orbs of earthbound souls enjoy the wedding party

30 07 2010

This weekend gone we all piled into the car in Nottingham and drove to our neice’s wedding down in Dorset – getting caught up in traffic near Stonehenge but making it in 4 hours, with an hour to get ready in the B&B…phew!  The day was magical, with a fairytale church wedding; Beccy looking like a princess and Ben her handsome prince in his service uniform.

After the ceremony we made our way to the village hall in Stalbridge for speeches, catching up with friends and family and, of course, a bit of a boogee!  Never one to turn down the opportunity to dance, I was both flattered (because he was at least 30 years younger than me) and surprised when a young man invited me to girate with him along to Shakeera….wonderful!  But the two of us weren’t the only life and ‘souls’ of the moment – as another was having the time  of his life (or death) intermingling with us too, and referring to himself as the Dancing Queen!

I popped to the ladies to check him out.  He was deliriously happy to be sharing in the joy and energy of our happy family occasion and completely unaware that he was a mere spectre of his former self.  In these circumstances it is difficult to know where to begin to explain the ramifications of staying earthbound – not that they would know what ‘being stuck’ means.  He was still ‘making up’ alongside me when I stood not quite alone in front of the mirror washing my hands and I decided to leave him to enjoy the rest of the fun for now.

Another soul of a very different nature hung around the bar area, people watching. He did not wish to correspond; in fact didn’t even seem to be aware that I could see him.  He looked dishevelled, as tho’ he had returned from a very late night out, a long black untied dickie bow dangling round his white shirt neck.  He smoothed back his brillcreamed hair and moved to a seat in which an attractive (living) young girl perched innocently ‘on his lap’!  With nothing to say; no reason to converse with me, I called him ‘Trickie Dickie’ (maybe it had been tricky for him to tie his dickie bow?)  I spotted him later holding a drink in his hand and sidling round the bigger tables in the main hall, ‘smoking a cigar’ and stubbing it out in (an imaginary) ashtray. 

And how had these poor souls lost their lives?  Dancing Queen had died from a drug overdose; Trickie Dickie had (amazingly) fallen from a speeding car.  Neither were locals but had come in with the wedding party (who had travelled from all round the country). I hadn’t noticed them in the church as all eyes were obviously on the handsome couple, but subsequently noted their orbs on the photograph above, taken as the couple left after the service…(obligingly passing across the back of Alan’s jacket so they could be seen)

Lots of piccies were taken by many, including myself, which I transferred to facebook asap for the rest of the family to peruse (and moan about themselves being caught at the wrong angle etc.!)   As I was doing so I noticed the orbs of the two very different personalities…..

Tricky Dicky standing behind Linda and Dancing Queen loving the Baby!

Two piccies in which Trickie Dickie and Dancing Queen appeared (behind the girls above and at the elbow admiring the Baby and below, in front of Holly the Chief Bridesmaid’s skirts!)

After death, the human spirit returns rather like a bubble to the ‘soapsuds in the sky’  but if for some reason he or she stays behind their ‘orb’, which contains their spirit energy, is the vehicle by which they move from place to place.  Normally invisible to the naked eye,  it has now become quite common for orbs to show up on digitally enhanced snaps.  Not all ‘orbs’ contain spirit…sometimes spots of moisture, raindrops, snowflakes etc. can be mistaken for genuine orbs.  If they contain spirit energy (even angels, fairies, spirit guides, visitors from other planes) and therefore have an intelligence they can be corresponded with by psychically attuned people. 

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American Ghosts use British answerphone for help

28 07 2010

My dear friend Lisa emailed me to say she was discussing  ‘Tsunamis’ and telling her work colleague about her experiences of the hurricane season in America (where she used to live) when suddenly their answer machine switched itself on – even though it is no longer connected to their telephone system!  Similar to those ‘ghost rappers’ who switched on our redundant radio (see a previous blog), Lisa and her friend  heard a ‘background noise’, which made her feel ‘a bit strange’… (no doubt the combined energies of these lost souls pushing at her own!)

It was late and I was rather tired as I dowsed Lisa’s answer machine ….(Mike was listening to a noisy Victorian Pharmacy programme on the tv – and  a well-meaning woman was cackling loudly) and so I strained to hear the locations of ‘Colorado’ and ‘Mississippi’ – Visions of their last terrifying moments – flyng debris, logs gushing down rivers, houses smashing like matchsticks – were accompanied by screams and cries for help as each soul in turn was thrown a lifeline.  My spirit guides said they were ‘from the backwaters’…..and in only a few minutes of clutching tightly to my dowser (for dear life!) 125 earthbound spirits were saved.  On yet another like-attracts-like basis, by talking about the subject, Lisa had provided the perfect portal for their rescue!

As I type this blog, news has just come in of a plane crashing into the Margalla hills after leaving Karachi and killing all 146 passengers on board, as well as the 6 crew.

My first instinct when I hear of such tragedies is to tune in and offer help to any souls who may still be entangled in the horror of the crash – and one by one I was able to hook 3 such shocked souls up and into the light.  This puts into perspective the natural pull of the deceased person to return to their original birthplace on the other side – only 3 becoming disorientated (and in danger of becoming stuck in this state of fear and confusion for ever) out of a total of 152.

Lisa is a light worker in her own right and trusty assistant to lost souls.  All she had to do was direct them to me so that I could rescue them.





ghostly ‘weights and measures’ lady haunts pub

20 07 2010

Mike and I sat noshing a delicious pub meal in Lodsworth, Sussex – part of our anniversary treat to celebrate 31 years of togetherness – when a ghostly apparition flitted in and out of my peripheral vision, but as I had taken off my working hat (rescuing spirits) and replaced it with my ‘rest and play’ one I just made a mental note of the woman staring straight at me as though I were a ghost (ha ha) and would help her later….

It is hard to disassociate yourself from lost souls but I was fortunate that only two ghosts haunted the Hollist Arms.  The second, also a female, introduced herself as Ebony and intermittently throughout the happy banter with the friendly bar staff and change of courses I stopped to observe her.  Sometimes she held her skirts and danced with happiness, but on one occasion I saw her sitting at an empty table  playing with a calculater.  (I was dying to ask the staff if their machines ever went missing but didn’t wish to blow my enjoyable cover!)

Later that evening, back at the B & B, I tuned in to find Ebony again and she was shocked!

“Are you a sorceress?” she asked bluntly.

Of sorts!” I laughed.   “Would you like to tell me a little about yourself before you go back home to your spirit family and friends?”  Before she could answer she was lifted with gusto, bless her, as my dowser spun wildly!  I gleaned information from my spirit guides that she was a 1930’s era waitress; and I could see that she wore a black dress and white frilly pinny and matching hat.  She wasn’t from the village but ‘connected to an ash tray’….(described as ‘iconic’ – ie typical Art Deco in style)  Perhaps there had been such an ash tray in the pub and she had been attracted there on a like attracts like basis?  Then it occurred to me that a gaggle of girls had lolled on the squishy sofa during our meal, one of them saying that the last time she had sat there was from 3 pm to ‘throwing out time’ and that she’d been ‘battered’ (drunk)!  They frequently extracated themselves from the soft leather seats for frequent smoke breaks in the garden….I was also told that Ebony had worked in a tea room in Chichester…also West Sussex.

Suddenly remembering the other lady ghost who observed me from the bar area throughout the evening, ‘trying to suss you out’, I tuned in before sleep and passed on Matilda – who left extremely quickly and the only information forthcoming was that she ‘worked for weights and measures‘ and was ‘inspecting the pub’s measures for beer and SPIRITS!’

Such adventures!





soldiers’s spirits helped home after surprise attack by Afghan

13 07 2010

Fresh from burying my beloved canary Myrtle, who I found ‘asleep’ on the floor of her cage this morning, I sat and cried some more.  Yes, she was only a bird, but she had a special place in the hearts of our family.  Rescued from the pet department of our local garden centre only last year and aged only 12 weeks, she had been sitting alone on a long perch in an enormous cage, a little bit tatty, not pretty enough to have been bought along with other handsome pairs of bright yellow birdies.  My son asked ‘would you like to have her for your birthday mum?’ and after a discussion about whether she would get on with our other male canary – a birthday present from him 5 years ago – and the purchase of a large spanking new cage, Myrtle settled in nicely and she and Woodstock eventually got to know one another and canoodled up close of an evening. 

Now here we were, burying her in a little box previously used for Camomile tea (for peace and calm), and planting a beautiful colourful gerbera plant above her, tucking them into their bed at the bottom of the garden.  Woodstock carried on preening himself as though nothing had happened.  Myrtle’s spirit had flown, just passed over as she slept in a little fluffy ball in the corner of her cage.  She had been only 13 months old and it seemed poignant that today’s date is the 13th.  Sadly, my sister’s baby died from a heart virus aged only 13 months and I was once lost in a dark tunnel of illness, close to death, for exactly 13 months, way back in 1984….

I came in to rest my back and have a soothing cup of camomile and switched on my laptop to check my emails – the previous night and this morning I had been working on sick children and, sure enough, reassurance that they had bounced back to health ‘just like that’ made me cry again.

Then I turned to the latest news.  Three soldiers (not yet named) have been killed by an Afghan soldier – someone trusted to fight alongside the soldiers in their unbelievably hard battle against the Taliban.  The number of British military personnel killed on operations in Afghanistan since 2001 stands at 317 – I have checked every last one and helped many on their way.  I picked up my dowser: number one was frantic….‘I don’t want to leave; I don’t want to leave!’  After a sudden abhorrent death such as his, this is only natural.  At least my Myrtle went in her sleep.  Like many of the poor troops before him, this poor man’s death had been so sudden that his spirit, his consciousness,  shot out of his body and still hovered, in shock, disbelief, concern for his relatives and their grief….I cried along with him.  My throat ripped out, the tears rolled down my cheeks, but I carried on cradling his spirit in my heart….‘Please listen to me….I promise you everything will be alright…I PROMISE!’  He stopped struggling and it was a hard job lifting his spirit, but my dowser spun on and on and on, until at last he was back where he should be, where he would be tended to by loving spirit nurses, counsellors and family members who had previously passed.  With little time to come to terms with their sudden deaths, and observing the escape hatch taken by their colleague, the second and third soldiers followed quickly on his tail. 

It has only been hours since their deaths but and, from my eleven years experience in helping trapped spirits to leave, I know they would have up until 3 months to find their way to the light – but better to be sure they wouldn’t become yet another statistic of lost souls haunting the earthplane.  From their healed and enlightened perspective on the other side they are better placed to observe, comfort and influence their loved ones left behind on the earthplane.  A very sad day, but life goes on – whether you are a delicate yellow canary or a brave British soldier.





Ghost rappers ‘turn on the white noise man!’

6 07 2010

Whilst on a snatched visit to my parents in Cornwall this long weekend past (a round 660 plus miles) I hoped to have a rest from spirit rescue, but as usual it was not to be!  Within hours of arrival at their seaview home overlooking St Michael’s Mount Dad pointed out the lights flashing on his car (‘they know you’ve arrived!’ he laughed) and I quickly cleared a large batch of  souls gathered together for onward transmission to the light.  Day Two found a repeat of this performance as another load arrived – trawled (ha ha) from the graves of sea-related earthbound souls from around the wider coastline (This is the 5th or 6th time my guides have used my parents four way flashers to catch my attention…)

Preparing tea on the Saturday, I snapped off large delicious smelling tomatoes from their vine stalk and sniffed in the wonderful aroma.  Seconds later, as I continued to busy myself chopping spring onions and the like, a misty veil descended like a cone-shaped hat being placed gently over my crown.  It tingled gently, like a delicate lacy cobweb, gradually being spun over the next minute or so, downwards to reach my heart.  I smiled; it was the association with the tomatoes that had opened up the mind-connect portal via the sense of smell associated with the psychic nose chakra – an unseen energy centre located inches from the end of the neb!  This psychic connection with my Higher Self allowed souls in the category of ‘tomato pickers’ to push gently on my heart centre…..so I fished for my dowser, which spun furiously while I continued with my spare hand to prepare my salad, my mind in loving neutral!  Later, my guides informed me that over 350 souls had passed through this ‘lettuce spinner’ of love! (My parents always joke that I could eat lettuce until it comes out of my ears!)

Many other sessions of spirit release ensued over that long weekend, from helping my father by clearing his physical pain, to remote clearing of a young nephew with a sickness virus in Somerset….But in between I did manage to visit Trebah Gardens (taken by the satnav down miles of narrow lanes only just wide enough to allow the car through, with many ‘whoops’ incidents of reversing backwards and squeezing into hedgerow to allow oncoming vehicles to manoevre through!), paddle in the sea, walk 4 miles over to Peranuthnoe with my son and dog, have Sunday lunch out at a pub and do some shopping……so I can’t complain! 

Back home, a sleepless night of yet more dowsing (on my own son, who had somehow contracted his own sickness virus/tummy upset, despite living miles from my nephew and never having contact with him!) brought me to this morning, zombie-eyed and eating porridge in front of  daytime television.  There was an interesting programme about a small but feisty woman who had managed to ‘turn her London estate around’ from a fear-provoking run-down area for the residents into a smart, happy place with proper lighting at night time and many facilities such as playing areas for little ones, youth clubs and safe grassy relaxation areas for adults.  By working hard with local counsellors charitable trusts and the like, she had managed to generate over a million pounds to transform and regenerate the area and make it a better place in which to live!  What a woman! She  was shown encouraging people on a fear-infested run-down estate in Bristol to form a Residents Association to get things changed for the better.  They were shown around her own improved facilities, including a ‘recording studio’ for youths, which has succeeded in keeping them off the streets.  A youngster from Bristol watched in awe as a black rapper wearing earphones sang his own song…..

After I’d switched off the television and fetched some clean drinking and bathing water for my pet canaries, I turned towards the door and got the fright of my life!  …Suddenly a loud rollercoaster of whooshing white noise burst forth from the (previously redundant!) radio alongside the birds’ cage!  We had only ever used the machine for playing music cd’s but now the red light had been switched on by an unseen entity and the volume turned up FULL!  The static shrieked out at me  – providing a gangplank for ‘rappers and the like’ – those from run-down council estates – hoodies – those involved in drugs and poverty – bringing with them visions of slums and darkness and fear – to cross into my living room!

I reached deeply into the pocket of my dressing gown for my ever-present dowser and 65 souls hustled together for instant teleportation to a much better life on the other side –  after which someone said they’d landed in the Carnegie Estate’  as they arrived home.  I was immediately intrigued, and wonder if this could be a metaphor for entrepeneur Andrew Carnegie, Scottish-American philanthropist who gave 90 percent of his massive wealth to charitable causes?  (1835-1919) He features in my latest book (to be published in 2011) as I found his wanting, lost soul, via a Biography found in a National Trust second-hand bookshop several years ago! 

Intrigued, I typed ‘Carnegie Estate’ into Google – and came out with the fact that in 1916 he bought an Estate named Shadowbrook, in Massachusetts.……An aptly named if very different kind of estate, perhaps, but no doubt one which he had been re-created for the after-life enjoyment of those deceased residents of those run down council estates!  What a man!








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