Category Archives: Uncategorized

Flight & floating mystery

So on my way back to South wales from cannock driving down M6 past Birmingham airport.

Overhead flies a bowing 747 coming in to land.

Now I’ve never been a fan of flying probably as my head can not work out how such a huge lump of metal weighing 439,985 kg loaded with people bags food fuel can FLY. yes I googled it.

It completely spins me out!.

So then Jeff goes on to tell me that equal to approx 8 40 ton lorry’s duct taped together.


Then he says cargo planes carrying tanks ect are even heavier 🙈

My head hurts.

He’s no hysterical laughing.

Is it just me? Does anyone else have a problem with the how is this even possible?

Discounting witchcraft.

One woman on a besom is far more easier to comprehend.

I also had this problem six years ago as we boarded P&O cruise ship the Ventura.

It was a 50th birthday present for jeff.

Now I’ve been over to France when I was 16 on a ferry and to Isle of man and of course I was expecting something a little bigger.

But f@@k me it was huge..

As I stood next to the smiling man who took my car keys at the dock looking up at the huge building like structure. I wanted to get back in my car.

How was That going to float?

Sixteen floors of restaurants dance floors swimming pools and people?

Don’t think about it Jeff says. It just is.

I have a theory.

When I was a kid there was a massive Co op shop in town where at Christmas you could que to see santa.

His elf would seat everyone on a beautiful decorated magical sleigh fairy lights would flash brightly scenery would pass snowy cabins and mountains of the noth pole as the sleigh rocked to and fro.

Exited children would then be shown off the sleigh and now magically they had been transported to Santa’s workshop in the North Pole!

We we’re definitely not in the basement of the local co op in a small northern town.

It was magic.

So maybe Santa’s sleigh builders progressed to building boeing 747 and huge cruise ships.

That has to be a much more understandable explanation.


Belief what is it?

Trying to explain my own understanding of the spirit world to someone else. A hard task

My belief that it really does exist here where we are now. Just a different vibration. Like radio channels.

Communication with spirit is like fine tuning a radio to the channel you want.

Spirit do the hard work we open up and invite them

No it’s not faith it’s a definite. I know without doubt. I suppose so much so that I have never really contemplated not ‘knowing’.

Although I didn’t have the best childhood I had the best Grand mother.

I can trace my acceptance and knowing, seeing, spirit to her. If you’ve always known something it’s normal I guess.

Well normal to you anyway

Death was never something to be feared.

Although religion was part of it for my Nan and my Mam both active spiritualists I went because they went, not because I wanted to. Thursday clairvoyance and divine service and healing on a Sunday. Charles Street spiritualist church a tiny church compared to some the organ a gift from sir Thomas beacham covered one wall.

The church stood at the top of a street of terraced houses in St Helens. The house next door ajoined after service it was used for healing and gathering of anyone needing a chat over tea and Buscuits or shelter from the cold northern weather until the bus arrived. Visiting mediums no pomp or robes just the same as you or I, mam or Nan

Yes we sat in circles in church or some folk ran closed circles in houses

People died services would be a life celebration in the small packed out church. I carried my Mam’s coffin in there 1997 a in May.

My children beside me.

Although I missed her physical presence her car boot sale finds watching the soaps with her I knew she was okay and life went on.

Her empty seat beside her best friend Dot in church wAs the saddest part they were like sisters and I remember wondering why Dot was so upset now that Mam was on the spirit plane?

It was another vibration but here around us I knew she was still about .

I had three young children to keep me busy a single mom with a barbers shop to run.

I moved away my belief was never dependant on a church I still worked with healing, tarot followed the moon and found my own way.

If I ever went back to my hometown or to Southport I’d attend church it seemed to have shrunk but it’s seats remained full.

I lost more relatives and good friends they say as you get older you attend more funerals than weddings. How true that is.

I work as as soulmidwife and funeral Celebrant so that’s a given.

I can honestly say I accept and respect other religions whatever gets us through.

But as I started by saying I’ve never had to explain my unwavering belief.

Until now.

My daughter in law to be. Mother of my grand daughter has recently lost her mother.

My best friend and she is desperate for ‘evidence of spirit.

Now I’ve had conversations about what I believe before.

I’ve done readings.

Received messages during a healing but this is so different.

I’ve known her since she was 13 she wouldn’t mind me saying she was a bit of a wild child. I loved her from the day we met.

No interest in anything spiritual.

Her mother and her were so close .

I know too much to give a reading.

And oddly or not this is the first death I’ve struggled with.

I miss her too beyond words could describe. So now as I remember Mam’s best friend Dots tears as she sat beside Mam’s empty seat in church.

It’s a lesson I’m sure it is.

Everything I’ve always known still stands firmly .

My daughter in law is the age I was when I lost my mother.

Maybe things were different because although Mam and me were very different people we both held the same belief?

She died in tragic circumstances but I remember thinking she would rather be where she now is.

It’s a fragile thing life I think.the only answers I have are to be the best that we can in the time that we have.

She rang me my daughter in law last night to share memories of her mother.

She said ‘ I can’t imagine not seeing her again for so long ‘

So I think.its that concept of ‘time’

Hours, days, years…. A life time..

Spirit don’t have it.. ‘time’ that is.. only we do on this earthly plane..

They are free

They are here they never left.

Just as my grand mother promised.

I needed you Donna to remind me and show your daughter the way.

The problem with grown up children.

Here I am lying in bed pondering a question only women of a certain age will think.
Do grown up children every completely move out?
You see I absolutely adore my children. They are my reason to breathe.. But…
Oh yes there is a but.
I live in a small two up two down stone cottage.
I say small it’s actually bloody tiny.
So after my youngest (he’s 27 not a teenager) moved in with his pregnant girl friend I imagined I’d have a spare bedroom and some wardrobe space.. a desk maybe with a lamp a space to write over looking the canal. Sigh.. (the photo is the view from my bed. (Yes really)
It doesn’t take a lot to please me.
Nor may I add do I have lots of clothes so small amount of wardrobe space will do fine! Some women have walk in wardrobes 10 hangers will be fine..
That was a year ago.
I have a beautiful new grand daughter I adore. And a daughter in love who I love like my own.
But probably even less space. Yes less…
My eldest granddaughter (12) has taken over my spare room proclaiming ‘Nanny it’s not spare it’s mine’ play stations and a avalance of Mac make up sets of books, hair extensions precariously balanced crockery towers. You get the picture.
My son has moved out but his girlfriends house is only two bedrooms so he can’t possibly take all his fishing gear, electric guitars (three of them) more shoes than emelda Marcos and a wardrobe full of clothes and numerous electrical appliances .oh and a bike. Because ‘ mam we have a baby do you know how much space their stuff takes?’

I refrain from answering unsure if it was a statement or a question. I’m looking for my phone as we are having this conversation.

Mam he laughs you can never find anything!
No son said item is probably buried under a mountain of fishing gear bike and shoes.
He smiles at me tells me I’m the best and what’s for tea tomorrow because they are calling over. Ring me I say with a smile. Who knows I may not have found my phone.
Pass the wine.

Glastonbury town. Connected, tribe

There are so many opinions on Glastonbury town

Isle of Avalon.

Disney for pagans .

Love it or hate it

It’s a bit like marmite.

Where do I stand?

I love it. It’s a truly beautiful place. Small town filed with spiritual people from all paths beliefs, hippys, Buddhist, witches, Christian.

It doesn’t matter. All drawn for different reasons.

My hubby Jeff loves it. He often says if a space ship lands in the high Street and it’s crew where to go shopping. Absolutely no one would blink an eye lid.

Acceptance that’s it .

Glastonbury magic we are all like a huge collection of old pieces from random jig saws but we fit.

Different religions sitting together with out feet dangling in the chalice well.

Singing and meditation in the white spring.

Walking the sacred labarynth in the church yard.

No one questioning out intentions our spirituality our love.

Knowing that we Are all from the same source of all.

Different ways of walking the path

Cosmic journey we are all connected

All on our way home.

Circle of Women

Women are from Venus Men are from Mars.

I get that.

There really is nothing more powerful than a circle of women .

Strong, unbreakable, inspiring and much more

Women’s best friends are stronger often than blood.

Or at least that’s my experience.

Women’s friends often know them better than their partners .

They are the duct tape that hold each other’s lives together.

How do men manage without that?

I have a few close women friends and I know without doubt they have my back and I have theirs

Free thinkers, poets, dreamers, rebels, square pegs hippys women who walk barefoot and arnt afraid to be exactly who they are.

Make no excuses take no prisoners. Who dance in the rain.

Honest funny, loving. Passionate

My tribe.

Chosen sisters

I love you

I am truly blessed.

Knight in a v.w van.

Save me from the mundane

Pull me back into your world.

Make me feel alive again.

Remind me that I’m your girl.

Burst my irredesent bubble of invisibility.

Wake the passion within me.

Tell me that you still see.

The wild and untamed rebel

The one who stole your heart.

She calls to the world from deep within me.

Finding it hard to play her part.

I know that I have wondered

Far away from your side..

I’ve been lost in barren places

Where my past and demons hide.

Many times you’ve come to my rescue.

Carried my soul back to our door.

Wrapped me in a cocoon of unconditional love

Keet my monsters behind a steel door.

Dr Gilbert & counting bricks.



Monday morning and I’m up early Mam has gone to Mrs. Cooks cleaning and Dad is making toast I can smell it burning and hear him swearing.

I remember sitting at the table kicking my legs on the chair and Dad telling me to hurry up because we’re going to see a doctor today.

I feel sick. But don’t argue there was no use arguing he wont listen.


We stand at the bus stop in the rain Dads wearing his best jacket its brown like a teachers jacket but he still smells of tobacco and beer and carbolic soap.

We don’t speak.

We get off the bus in town Dad goes into the tobacconists I leaf my forehead on the shop window looking at rows of pipes and lighters then we get onto another bus I go upstairs sit right at the front Dad follows me.

Eventually we get off by Victoria Park as we walked through the park Dad asks me if I’m okay?

I shrug and I don’t know why but I want to cry.

‘You’ll be okay don’t worry’.

He bends down level with me I’m concentrating on the fine spiders webs on the rhododendron bushes the dew still sitting on them. Dad is saying nothing bad will happen to me if I just tell the truth.

‘Are you bloody listening to me?’

I nodded my head.

‘That’s my princess.’


’Tell the truth now no lies no Walter Mitty and they won’t take you away.’


’Take me were Dad? I don’t know who Walter Mitty is and I don’t want to go away.

Were will they take me.’

I’m crying now still staring at the spider’s web arms around his neck.


‘Hey now stop it do you hear me I’m your Dad I will be with you I promise’.

‘You just tell them that you don’t like that house that’s why you do daft things school and it will be okay we have to do this the school have arranged it. Have you got that do you understand?’

I nodded my head.

‘I think so Dad. Remember no bloody lies.’


‘I know you’re always making things up.

You’re like Walter bloody Mitty you are but if you tell them any stories in here they will take you away.’


‘Or they might take me away then they will send you to a naughty girl’s home now do you want that?’

‘Or your Dad to go to jail?’

‘Because that will be it then you wont see Pam or the kids again or your nanny or me and your Mam.’

I am absolutely terrified ‘Why cant I see my Nan again Dad?’ ‘Stop that now blow your nose and wipe your face and remember what I’ve said think about your Nan. ‘ He hands me a big old handkerchief I do as he says then shove in into my duffle coat pocket.


We walked on further through some huge green gates ‘child guidance’ it said in huge letters. We walk along a driveway past a school children my age are in the play ground the building is next to the school.

Through a red door and a smiling lady sits at a low counter it is like a doctor’s waiting room with toys and lots of books.

She smiled at me as we stand at the glass.

’What’s your name?’

I looked at Dad?

’It’s Joolz’ he said ‘We’ve got an appointment with Dr Gilbert.’

He passes her an appointment card.

‘Take a seat he won’t be long.’ Dad sits down I pick up a book sit next to him. My naughty little sister it is called I stare at it not really reading.

There was a boy sat on the floor playing with a train. ‘Do you want to play?’

he asked I shake my head.

’She’s shy.’ Dad says. I hate it when he says that.

I picked up another book. Its called the Pearl.

As I open it the smiling lady calls my name.

It is hurting me to breath.

Dad hold my hand and squeezed it three times his secret code that means

I love you.

He squeezed it as he said each word.

‘Come on the doctors waiting.’


Dr Gilbert’s office is brown bare brick behind his desk.

Green blinds. Huge cheese plant like the one in my old school hall.


Dr Gilbert is as old as Dad I think big with a suit on like Dad wore at weddings.

With a smart dark brown tie.


A white clock on the wall like a school clock.

He had blotting paper on his big desk like they had in the bank in town and a posh silver pen.

‘Hello Joolz’, he looked at me through his thick gold glasses.

‘Sit down’. Dad sit on a chair I push against him. I wonder how may children he has taken away?

’Can you come and sit here?’

He said pointing at the chair in front of his desk.


‘She’s really shy’ Dad says again.

She doesn’t speak much.


’I’m sure you will be okay’ he said smiling

I walked forward and sat on the chair.

‘Now then said Dr Gilbert. Do you know why your here?’

I shake my head concentrating on the big leaves that look like hands on the big cheese plant.

I have a lump in my throat and I can hear my heart its in my head.


‘Well shall I explain?’  Dr Gilbert continued.


’Your school, and your Mam and Dad are concerned about some of your behavior.’

’And I’m here to listen to you and help you to sort things out if I can but you have to help that okay?’

I nod again.


I can’t see Dad he is sitting behind me but I can hear him breathing and his rasping cough occasionally and the smell of old Holborn.


Dr Gilbert asked me about the fire.

I can’t answer him I really can’t speak not like when I’m in school and I just don’t want too. this time I really can’t.

And how could he fix things anyway?


I can’t tell him because they will take Dad away.


He won;t believe me if I told him about my dog, about falling downstairs with Debbie.

That Dad told me wanted to shoot me when I was born because the cot was rattling. That he thought I was a Mongol.

That he hit me more time than I know That I was scared of the dark because of the monster. That there was something at the side of my bed that even if I kept my eyes tight shut it was still there. that Wendy came at night to help me.


How could I tell him any of it he wouldn’t believe me he was a nice man he wore a suit and tie.

He didn’t smell of tobacco he smelt like clean, like Pam’s washing after the launderette.

And so I said nothing. I didn’t want to loose my little Nanny.


Dad was saying ‘Come on now Joolz.

Answer the Doctor.

Its okay I’m here.’ I thought for a minute about screaming he had told me to keep quiet now he was telling me to talk.

The lump in my throat got bigger AND BIGGER.

Dad was telling the Dr I hated the new school I got picked on.

The Dr asked it that was true.


Before I tried to answer Dad said ‘Tell the truth now Joolz and it will be okay.’

’Why do you keep telling her to tell the truth asked the Doctor?


Does she often tell lies?’

’Oh yes Doctor. Dad was saying she’s a penny liar’

Now I wanted to scream, cry.


But I betrayed myself I really couldn’t talk.



I looked over at the Doctor. He was writing something down.’’


Why couldn’t he here my shouting inside? ‘He was a psychiatrist Dad said. So why didn’t he know.

‘Do you want to go wait out side Joolz while I have a chat with your Dad?’ Said the Doctor.

I got up Dad winked at me I pulled open the big door and went to sit out side in the passageway it was bare bricks I sat there swinging my legs counting the bricks.

It seemed ages I was up to one hundred and seventy seven.


Dr Gilbert called me back in. I hadn’t heard him open the door.

He made me jump bending down in front of me. ‘Joolz can you hear me?’

I nodded. I looked down at his shoes they weren’t boots like Dad wore they were shoes brown shoes with buckles on.

‘Would you mind coming back next week to see me?’ he asked.

His voice was really big but his face was kind. I nodded.

Dad was stood behind him he reached out and took my hand.

We walked back through the big room with the toys and the smiling lady behind the desk.

‘Bye Joolz see you next week.’ she smiled again and waved.

The doors swung open into the big garden rain dripped from the huge oak trees surrounding the building.


I pulled my hood up the rain felt cold on my face and I’d felt so hot in the office.

Dad didn’t notice the tears as we walked they ran down my face with the rain.


The lump in my throat was getting smaller I could talk again but I didn’t just walked with my Dad in the rain.

We got off the bus in town and walked into Woolworth’s.

‘Here Dad said pushing fifty pence into my hand go get some toffees.’

I stood the wet from the rain looking up at him ‘Go on!  Coz you’ve been a good girl.’

As I scooped up pick and mix Dad said I think you’re big enough now to have spend!

I looked up at him again.

He laughed.

‘Got your tongue back yet?’


It was the first time id spoken since going into the doctors.


He ruffled my hair as we paid for the toffees.

As we walked to the bus he said ‘don’t tell anyone at school were we’ve been okay?’

I nodded again mouth full of sweet peanuts.

‘Do I have to go back to school now I’ve been to the doctors today?’

‘No your wringing wet look at you!

Your Mam’s going to Auntie Eliza’s today after she finished cleaning at Mrs Cooks house.

‘We’ll go home get you dried and watch some telly okay?’

‘We got home and Dad put the kettle on cup of tea eh?’


Dad made two cups of steaming milky tea. I put the telly on played about with the dial behind the curtain only Payton Place was on Mam liked that bet she was watching it with auntie Eliza.

I sat down with Dad.

I played with his buttons he laughed. ‘Tinker, Taylor, soldier, sailor, rich man. Poor man, beggar man, thief!’

When he laughed his belly jigged up and down. I liked making him laugh I liked it when he was happy.

‘Come here lie down with Dad.’

As quick as a flash Wendy was beside me.

‘What’s up? Come here give your Dad a cuddle.’

Wendy lay down next to him he lifted her over his big belly so she was lying with her back against the sofa.

Dad lay perched on the end I thought he might fall off but he didn’t.

I stood and watched Payton place there was a woman crying

I could here Dad telling Wendy what a good girl she was I knew she wouldn’t be long now then we could go out and play.

Dad got up fixed his shirt and told me to go wash my face.


‘Can I go out Dad?’ For an hour because you’ve been so brave today at the doctors.

‘ I told you it would be okay didn’t I.’

’I’ll always look after you.’

Go on now sort your self out I’m going over the club for a pint.’


Here and he pushed another fifty pence into my hand.

’Thanks Dad.’

’He laughed you keep being good no more acting the goat and there’s plenty more were that came from!’

I smiled and ran out of the front door.


We went back to Dr Gilbert the week after then every two weeks after that.

I’m not sure for how long.


But I remember when we started to see him it was the very beginning of spring. Then going back it was almost christmas


I have often wondered what was his conclusion as to why I was referred in the beginning.

Why our communication consisted of nodding and the occasional one word.

It was a long time ago and things thankfully have changed for the better.


I wonder if I had been seen alone without the presence of my father would I have managed to confided in someone how desperately unhappy I was.

But I wasn’t and I didn’t!


And eventually I remember thinking if they see that I’m happy then I wont have to come again.

The out of the blue Dad told me that we were moving house again. Back to be near my sister.

He said Dr Gilbert had written a letter to the council and they were re housing us. Dad said he knew now that my bad behaviour was down to him taking me away from my old school and our other house. ‘So we can have our old house back then I thought I was going to burst!’

I was over the moon. ‘No Dad said it would be near our other house on the same estate but not the same one. We would live near the Dam again, see thunderbolt the horse I loved but the house would be different. And I could go back to my old school.


‘What about Toby our new dog can he come too?’ Was my first question?


‘That mangy flea bitten dog?’ said Dad! Then he laughed. Course he can.’

I was so happy that day It wouldn’t happen straight away but we were defiantly going and I didn’t have to go back to that school! Horay!


When we went back to see him Dr Gilbert asked how I felt about moving I remember telling him I was really happy one of the few occasions I actually spoke in front of him.

In my heart I knew without him we wouldn’t have the new house.


Most of his questions had been directed to my Dad.

I remember him ruffling my hair and saying it was nice to see me smile. He was wearing a red tie that day and the same brown shoes.


Dad told him I was much better now at home, and much happier now we were moving house and I knew I would be going back to my old school.


He asked me to wait out in the waiting room

Gave me a drawing pad and some colored pens while he chatted to Dad.

I sat at the kid’s table drawing a picture.

They both came out of his office together, Dad in his donkey jacket Dr Gilbert in his smart suit and his buckled shoes


I carried on drawing and colouring.

That’s a beautiful drawing I like the colours said Dr Gilbert he perched himself beside me on a child’s chair.  He looked silly and way too big.


‘Who is the picture of?’

‘It’s my dog Toby and me.’ I whispered to him. ‘In our new house and the sunshine.’

He smiled at me again.


‘Well I’ve just been talking to your Dad and I think things are much better now at home things will be better when you get back to your old school. This is the last time you have to come to see me.’

‘Is that good to hear?’ I nodded.


‘Could I keep the picture he asked?’


’You could write your name on it and we could put it up on the wall with the others?’

I picked up the red felt pen and wrote on the back in my best writing.

To Dr Gilbert from Wendy and Joolz thank you for our new house.

He ruffles my hair and smiled.

‘Joolz be good for your Dad now’.

I nod again.

Dad squeezed my hand three times.

He want going to jail.

We turned and left that was the last I ever saw of Dr Gilbert I often thought of him and his shiny buckled shoes.