the disabled little boy who didn’t quite make it into the light

What do we understand as purgatory?  Last Sunday, following a tough 12 mile sponsored walk in Derbyshire in aid of the British Heart Foundation, I crawled into bed for 11 gloriously deep hours of healing sleep, but come morning felt like a stifflly starched tablecloth must feel, with no control over its normal fluidity, when I threw back the covers and found my body fighting against  my mind’s command to get up! 

Eventually, of course, we shuffled to the bathroom together, got ourselves washed and dressed and made it downstairs.  I congratulated my bones and muscles, and of course my brain, for getting me through yesterday’s FINISHING line  – even if we had come in last,  propped up by my wonderful daughter who had taken my rucksack from me to lighten the load of that last never-ending mile!  We agree it had been worth all the toe stubbing, heart racing, perspiration making, knee and back aching step of the way – and I was proud of my body’s personal achievement in completing the sponsored walk and said a special thank you to my heart, who’d had one of its diseased valves replaced with a clickety mechanical ‘washer’ 25 years previously, thereby saving our life! I also gave special mention to my T6 vertebra, who’d been squashed a couple of summers ago due to our enthusiastic jumping on a trampoline! 

But did one particular little boy’s life of suffering feel like purgatory?  On the tv came an interview with a nominated ‘Child Carer of the Year’ award and a smiling young boy was shown in photographs with his arm wrapped around his severely disabled brother – obviously unable to do anything for himself, let alone get himself out of bed or go on a sponsored walk.  The two of them shared a very special bond, which was obvious by the love shining from their eyes and when the announcer then said that, sadly, his brother had died last year, I picked up my dowser as I always do, just to check.  Even so, I was nevertheless taken aback when I hooked on to the still-earthbound spirit of that brave child…and as he was surrounded with a vortex of light he showed nothing but gratitude for this buoyancy aid, allowing him to complete his transition to the other side! What he called back, as he was unable to verbalise these words from inside his trapped body, was – “Tell them I love them!” (his brother and parents) – and I burst into tears.

Still snivelling with the rush of empathy and love I felt for him (and all spirit rescuees), I had  just explained to my husband what had happened, when  the interviewer of his brave brother asked him “what would you say to your brother now, if you could?”  His still-smiling face caused me to cover my own with my hands as it contorted in a mixture of joy and grief…and relief.

“Well I think he’s watching down on us and I would just say ‘I hope you are happy!’    I was wracked with emotions and had to leave the room, but when I returned after a good cry, I realised it was not the end of the story…..  

“And so say all of us!” came the encouragement from above as, at 7  mts past 5 on Monday 27th September,  I opened the spiritual gateway once more and clung tenatiously to my heavily pulling, madly swirling dowser until 5.14 pm when it suddenly stopped dead – 400 severely disabled lost souls who had also been stuck inside their own purgatory had now completed their transition to the light –  with, amusingly (and surely just for me! ) one more late arrival who limped over on crutches to make it to the FINISHING line!  And as I watched him morph into a completely healed  soul, no longer trapped inside a body which was unable to serve him, my heart was filled with joy. “‘The Last shall be First! “ came back a reminder…

And in an emailed thank you from the British Heart Foundation the next day they estimated that ‘400′ had participated (and therefore crossed the finishing line) in that mega walk for charity!  ..Hand on my Heart!

why did lost spirits sing ‘buttercup baby’ into my ear?

The other morning I found myself swinging to the words ‘We need you…more than anyone darling!‘ quite randomly as I left the house and my son said ‘you WHAT?‘….

“Oh, I think it’s a song… just a minute….” and I sang it through again until I got to the rest… “Build me up, buttercup baby, just to let me down….That’s how it goes” and went off humming this snippet of a song, apparently by The Foundations in the 1960’s, as I drove round to my daughters to take her 10 month old  Westie for a trot.

“Mummy can’t get home for lunchiepoo’s,” I told him in puppy talk so he’d understand “so grandma’s taking you for a walk round the canal today!”  He responded as he usually does when he hears a soppy voice and flung himself on to his  back, all four scruffy paws in the air, long strong, rat-like tail wagging so furiously that if he’d been on the slippery kitchen floor he would have been propelled along like a beaver or round in circles with a little help from granny.  “Scratch my tummy ; scratch my tummy!”  After lots of tickling and praising I scooped him up like the little bundle of love and fun he is and held him like a baby while he licked my chin with glee.  Oh the joys of being a (sad) grand(dog)mother!

So it was that we skipped merrily along the canal towpath, soaking up the beautiful late September morning, Alfie  stopping at the sound of my encouraging praise every two minutes and wiggling his big (little) bottom backwards to swish his tail round and between my legs…..when walking towards us came a newcomer to his patch.  Immediately he crouched down on all fours, making himself as flat and unobtrusive as he could (might have worked in the long grass but in the middle of the tarmac?) so granny had to play the game, act nonchalantly and admire the birds flying in the sky. 

In the meantime, a portly white doggie with a big brown spot on her  back swished along on short little legs, long ears skimming the path, and as soon as she’d waddled to within pouncing range Alfie was off  like a spring hare, bounding and boxing in the air and crying ‘play with meeee’…..”What’s her name?” I asked the nice lady owner as her dog skilfully avoided mine by sidestepping at precisely the right moment, whilst Alfie did an equally skilled somersault and about turn in mid air and flew in for the pounce again. “Buttercup” she answered, to my disbelief.  I could just imagine Buttercup’s mouth animated and singing ‘Build me up!” as she waddled her fat little belly on past us, and to add to the surrealism her owner added, by way of an explanation, “when we got her as a puppy we thought she looked like a cow,” and Buttercup’s ears drooped even further onto the path as she sang another line of the song…“just to let me down…”

Alfie, losing interest in a friend that didn’t run, pulled ahead as I waved goodbye and turned his interest instead to the other doggie bouncing merrily in our direction.  This was an Andrex teenager of the highest order and gave Alfie a run for his money while the owner pulled out his white earphones and we made polite chit-chat about our charges.  “I’m looking after her for my daughter” he smiled….

“Oh, how funny…so am I! What’s her name (the puppy)?”…

“Lilly,” he said, “As in the song ‘Pictures of Lilly’ by The Who….‘ and then grinned bashfully, saying “I’m showing my age now!”  I counterbalanced this by waffling on about “Build me up Buttercup” and how I’d had the song in my head 30 mts before meeting the real life Doggie Buttercup, who’d obviously been built up a little too much!….He reacted by laughing and pointing to a flower on the edge of the canal path.  “Oh no, that’s a dandelion!” he laughed again, embarrassed, and we both carried on our way. 

So there you have it.  What fun when our minds can go ahead of themselves and predict such happy doings such as these!  Just to check, I looked up The Foundations as well as The Who…and as a result picked up and cleared over 150  lost souls connected to them.  But the main reason I had this song in my head was revealed when I hopped into bed, hands clasped cosily under my chin, shut my eyes….and saw two ‘bikers’ coming towards me on foot in an underground carpark.  They took off their helmits and moving close to my face sang in unison “we need you…more than anyone darling!...and of course I had to scrabble for my dowser and help these two earthbound spirits, who had apparently been following me since I’d left the house that morning!  They were quite annoyed (unbelievably!) and like a choreographed tv advert sang “We”ll be over at ten”, (they told us time and again) – “but you’re late, we wait around and then….We went to the door; We can’t take any more…It’s not fair…you let us down again!”  This was surreal.  They appeared to be singing the words of the Buttercup song, adjusted to fit the dilemma they felt in being earthbound and being ‘told’ by fellow spirits (perhaps?) that I would help……So at last Desperate Dan and Handy Andy (as they called themselves!) were, with a little help from me, able to get on their bikes and drive out from their underground car park and into the Light …“So build us up Buttercup, don’t break our hearts!”…and as my dowser whirled on and on their voices faded out into the distance….”We  need you, more than anyone, baby…You know that we have from the start….”  

And as  I type  this I look up at our grandmother clock and it ‘just happens’ to be ten (‘it is over at ten’ and now time for bed again!) and I contemplate why it is that children hold a buttercup up to someone’s chin and ask if they like butter….And if there is a yellow reflection on the recipient’s throat they joyfully announce ‘YES  You like butter!’ or sadly, ‘NO, you don’t’   Could it be that this ancient children’s game mimics the power of the yellow and sunny solar plexus (who we are) connecting with the throat/communication area of the Higher Self?    Perhaps The Who and The Foundations have a bigger significance after all!

ghostly puppeteer of michael bentine!

Last weekend I was invited by the London Ghost Club to give a talk to them about the canal ghosts I met and subsequently rescued, documented in my first book Ghosts in a New Light – Haunted Waterways, published in 2006. (Available to order through my website www.janehunting.co.uk)  The talk went down a treat and I was pleased that, rather than take offence at the fact that I was, therefore, likely to remove the psychic phenomena and investigative findings of their ghost ‘hunts’, they were mesmerised by what I had to say – and have even invited me back! 

The chairman of the Club asked whether I could see into the future, and I was pleased to report that I was not that unfortunate…‘Michael Bentine’ he informed me, ‘once gave a talk to us  and said he had mistakenly been given an injection of a pure culture of typhoid.’ (Another man died immediately but Bentine was left in a coma for six weeks. When he regained consciousness his eyesight was ruined, leaving him myopic for the rest of his life)   ‘…after which he knew when people were going to die as he ‘saw’ a skull superimposed over them …including his own son.  Although I share in Bentine’s ability to see pictures (called ‘clairvoyancy) and also the fact that, like him, I was brought back from the brink of death after what is known as a ‘near death experience’, I could never imagine the fear that Bentine must have felt when he saw the skull superimposed over his very own son, who was soon to die in a plane crash. What a terrible legacy to have to bear.  It is a little ironic that he was left with myopia, as this is the physical manifestation of extreme short sightedness, and yet the effect of his near-death experience was the psychic manifestation of  long sightedness of a terrifying sort, resulting in these morbid glimpses of the future. 

When I met up with a friend for coffee the following Monday, as soon as I mentioned Michael Bentine Lisa wracked her brains to work out what his name meant to her….I immediately intuited a ‘puppet on a string’ dancing over her left shoulder and she frowned: “Did he have puppets?” Like most intuitives she knew there was something significant in this ‘message’…   Later that day I discovered that he had stayed earthbound after his death and was now relying on me to pull the strings to get him home again!  Naturally I obliged, once away from the public surroundings of the coffee shop, and he was off too quickly to record any message of enlightenment.

That evening, just as I jumped gratefully into my warm bed and flung the bedclothes over myself, I was zapped with the familiar electrical prickle of spirit communication and tuned in to listen.  ‘We’ve got a puzzle for you…” came a  spirit guide’s announcement. (Oh, not again…not now.) “Where did Bentine go after he died?” (To the other side?) “No. We mean before you rescued his spirit….! (Well are you going to enlighten me?) “The London Palladium; Billy Cotton’s Band Show...” came the clue, before spirit shot off again and I tucked this conundrum under my pillow for a couple of days.  After all, there was no rush to put all these clues together… 

Inquisitive to find out who Michael Bentine was, I looked him up on google. and discovered he was a British comedian, actor and writer who DID have a connection to puppets, writing and presenting the comical long-running children’s series Michael Bentine’s Potty Time from 1973-80, using bearded puppets of a dubious nature! (Again, thanks to the wonders of today’s worldwideweb I was able to see this for myself through YouTube and get to know him a bit better!)   Explaining his willingness to address the Ghost Club when he was alive, I was excited to read that he had a life long interest in the paranormal (living from 1922 to 1996) as his Peruvian father was totally committed to verifying psychic phenomena and his family home therefore was constantly full of psychics and mediums! 

Believing in the existence of life after death, he was delighted to show his never-ending humour by appearing momentarily from the other side, clutching his throat in a humorous way and emphasising how he wished me to talk on the subject of ‘possession’ – something close to my heart as the core of my healing work is moving spirits from the energies of living people to lighten their load (Many examples of the success of this are verified by my clients under the Guest Book section of my website www.janehunting.co.uk )    In many cases this could be described as ‘possession’ as the emotional body of  the spirit in distress, fear or any type of anxst will have a detrimental effect on its human host’s physical health…

With yet another clever reference to puppets, he apparently wrote some fascinating views about how Adolf Hitler ended up using so many individuals ‘like a puppeteer’…  I also discovered that in 1954 (when I made my own appearance onto the stage of life) he was offered a TV series by the BBC – a children’s puppet series called ‘The Bumblies’!  No wonder he played with a puppet on Lisa’s shoulder!

I retrieved that clue from under my pillow and spent an hour researching old London Palladium appearances and,  sure enough, Billy Cotton and his Band Show appeared in 1959 and indeed Michael Bentine in the late 60’s and early 70’s. Was this the clue to which the spirit guide alluded or was it just to run me by the fact that amongst those appearing over the years are well-loved comedians such as Eric Morecambe, Frankie Howard,  Tony Hancock,  Joan Sims,  Mike and Bernie Winters, Tommy Cooper, Spike Milligan,  Dandy Nicholls and  Charlie Drake?  –  All of whom appear  in my latest book, channelled to me over a period of 3 years and who are no doubt pulling the strings from up there to get their book published asap! –

“About time!” Bentine complained when at last I had a moment to see what he had to say from the other side and his  unexpected comment on puppets was “We’re ALL  puppets dancing to the song of life!”   I asked him what made him stay earthbound and his strange amswer was ‘I’d had enough!’   I asked him what he meant by this and he explained that the horrific ‘sight’ of the afterlife had scared him witless. “I thought heaven consisted of a load of numb skulls floating about” ….and looking around at his London Palladium chums he now shares his space with he (jokingly) said “I wasn’t far wrong!”     

lost souls lifted from His Holiness the Pope!

Just before 6pm on Friday 17th September 2010 I happened to switch on the television to see the live broadcast of the procession of His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI’s Popemobile heading to his next location at Westminster Abbey, central London.  He gave off an air of humble peity as he waved gently at the adoring crowd lining the pavements for the first stately visit of a Pope since the church began and, even though I am not a Catholic myself and have been disgusted at the child abuse scandal, I smiled at the peace emanating from him.  I did, however, hear the call of many earthbound souls from the emotional level of His Holiness…..and as Big Ben’s first chime donged I had located the first, then the second and the third of the poor souls stuck  to the Pope in the hope of salvation….

Then four, five and six and as I moved around the Pope’s aura of emotional energy I found and rescued more and more and more, until approximately 26 souls had been saved.  Turning then to the energy inside the Popemobile yet more leapt towards the light as my dowser hooked onto each individual lost soul and leapt into a clockwise spin and deposited their grateful selves into the light.  

Just as Big Ben donged his sixth chime the job had been done, leaving both the Pope, his Popemobile and accompanying entourage inside completely lifted of the emotional and clinging cloud of stress that had been caused by the desperate and emotional souls looking for a lift to salvation!

At that very moment, the smiling face of one of the male escorts inside the Popemobile turned and beamed towrds the camera….almost as though he knew and was waving off the spirits of his fellow humankind  The song that has been sung very many times to me from the other side,’ The Teddy Bears’ Picnic’, came floating across the veil, reminding me that ‘at six o’clock their mummies and daddies will take them home to bed, because they’re tired little Teddy Bears!‘ 

You may think this a little frivolous when discussing important people like the Pope harbouring earthbound spirits, but he is a human being like the rest of his flock, and he, like all of us, can provide a harbour for the lost who are just trying to get back home….and having enjoyed their picnic (or not) it was obviously their time to be taken home to sleep peacefully on the other side.

Perhaps it was my knowledge that His Holiness had dispersed with piggy-backing energy that was not his own, but he did seem a lot lighter and enthusiastic during his address in Westminster Abbey – and to my delight the tv commentater spoke the words that were in my mind: “…the Pope spoke so forcefully!”   I don’t know what he would make of the work I do, but it is my faith which is the core of my healing practice, without which I would not be here now  passing on this good news of light, healing and LIFE EVERLASTING!   Amen to that Jack, as my husband would say!

the roguish spirit who found it necessary to throw a cabbage!

These lovely white pigeons/doves  gather regularly in our garden but as  I prepared breakfast this morning I kept glancing towards the little fountain in the garden as one of them  ‘peeped’ at me from behind the stone plynth and was still there, doing nothing in particular, when I washed up my porridge bowl 10 mts later.  “Hello! I said, ‘what are you up to?’  When I later checked my emails I found the following message from my neice, whose request to look at her daughter had resulted in a successful clearing of  approximately 550 spirits the previous day….”Just out of interest, before you cleared ****** we had a very naughty spirit here I’m sure, turning my washing machine on in front of 5 of us, adults! and then a cabbage I had on the side by the back door for my guinea pigs flew at the back of my friend’s husband’s legs making quite a noise. We did all find this amusing and I am just interested if you get any info on this soul as I got the impression he was of a bit of a joker!! xxxxx

I replied: “Yes, there were also 17 in the house I seem to remember and the only clue I have to the person who threw the cabbage is that he was singing the strange song ‘mouldy old dough’ (seemed a bit of a rogue!) and as I am checking now for any more info to come through I hear ‘sacramento’ and ‘los angeles’ and 20 more go through that link!  Is there some connection with your friend’s husband and California where these places are I wonder?…”

I decided to listen to this ’70’s  ‘mouldy old dough’ song on YouTube and laughed to find it was by a British pop group named Leiutenant Pigeon! (1972-78) (My watcher, this morning?) and the first thing on the video is (understandably) a pigeon, followed by a band member wearing a wizard’s hat (me?) and Leiutenant Pigeon is playing a tin whistle (gathering together the lost souls?) AND is dressed in a Robin Hood outfit (Nottingham being my location!)….The characters both in the band and the audience were just like the ‘Californian dreamers ‘ whose souls had danced home to my dowsing! –   The words ‘mouldy old dough’ are the only three words in the song and just happen to be sung by the roguish, ‘playfully mischievous’  sort of character who threw that cabbage in my neice’s kitchen!   “Oh my goodness….” replied my neice when I shared this with her…”How strange, my first thoughts were that this spirit was urging me to contact you for help!!! I will look now on Youtube, enjoy the rest of your fun packed day! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Stranger things have happened, but when I looked up this oddly named British band I noticed they were from Coventry (in the West Midlands and only 38 miles from Nottingham in the East Midlands) so was it a mere ‘coincidence’ that the next call for help that very evening was from a Landlord in Coventry?    

 

 

Four consecutive tenants who had stayed in his let property have had a dreadful time of it; the first a middle aged man who felt a compulsion to kill his wife and kids, then two brothers who fought each other almost to the death, the next a tragic woman who committed suicide in the house and finally a long term tenant who wrote to him to break her tenancy saying she could no longer stand the ‘weird goings on’ after poltergeist activity (such as the fridge slamming) and – terrifyingly for her – seeing the ghost of the dripping wet suicide victim….! 

I tuned in to the address and, unsurprisingly, immediately felt spirits pushing on the floodgates to get home!  The young woman who had committed suicide by drowning herself threw her wet arms around me when she realised I was about to release her from what she described as ‘ misery; imprisonment’;…my heart it was broken’  and – AMAZING THOUGH IT MAY SOUND – she herself suffered from depression and was ‘infected’ with earthbound spirits who had been drawn to her desperately low energies….another example of  like attracts like.  Another 43 spirits who were left floating over her dead body (and therefore in this Landlord’s home) were also directed home to the light.

  

On closer inspection of the house I found one room to be FULL of negative thought forms – the clinging, stifling energy hanging in the atmosphere as a result of all the heartache, sorrow, addiction, fear, murder, torture and obscenity that had been perpetrated in and around  that spot – not necessarily in that building but on that particular ground over many hundreds of years to the present time.   The visions I witnessed are too vile to share here with you, but the dark energy had developed a sort of self-perpetrating den of iniquity – obviously effecting all who tried to live a normal life within it.

As well as the 43 attached to the young woman another 60 earthbound spirits were detected and passed safely from the house and the grounds on which it stood  – after which I thoroughly cleansed it by sending love and light and joyful energy to replace it.   This perfectly illustrates how the effects of both negative energetic imprints from the past, as well as the misery of trapped souls, can have a serious impct on the lives of ordinary people.  (One thing I will share with you is that mentally ill people were amongst those who passed to the accompaniment of another eccentric song “They’re Coming to Take Me Away, Ha-Ha” – summing up the sheer madness contained within those walls!)    

Finally, and explaining why that old rogue of a spirit threw that cabbage and sang me that song…The expression ‘mouldy old dough’ certainly describes perfectly the state of dough if it has ‘not had a chance to rise’ – just like those poor souls.   Indeed I dowsed all four members of Leiutenant Pigeon and was taken aback to find that Robert Woodward (playing the tin whistle and wearing the Robin Hood outfit in the video) snatched this opportunity to leave the earthplane (I heard ‘lung cancer’) – Quickly followed by his mother Hilda, who believe it or not was a member of the band and is recorded as having died in 1999 – “Obsessive!” was her departing word as she shot off with her son, no doubt to bake him some fresh dough and cook him some cabbage soup!

There is much colaboration between spirit guides (those guardians we all have watching over us and who whisper guiding directions and prompt intuitive decisions to keep us on our earthly path) and souls in the light and if someone is ‘late home’ they will do their best to decide on a course of action to attract attention to the lost ones.  How clever of them to come up with the ‘mouldy old dough’ analagy so that they could further our understanding of the workings of spirit!   I’ve just realised, that ‘very naughty spirit’ also, blatantly, turned on my neice’s washing machine didn’t he, perhaps hinting that the mouldy old dough needed a good cleansing before being set on a fast spin homewards?! 

1,000 spirits in the sky!

Sunday is traditionally a day to rest one’s spirit after all, but the powers that be made sure it was a day of rest for 1,000 souls who weren’t!  At 6 am my neice sent me an email reference her little 7 year old daughter:

“… she has had a medical check and they can find no reason for her headaches/tummyaches and endless sleepless nights…its been weeks now and she is really struggling (as am i) i’m mostly concerened about her disturbed sleep…she just quietly sobs to herself or is wandering as if sleep walking but she is awake! i really hope you can help us as the doctors couldnt and its rather desperate now!!!”

…So I sat in my dressing gown and got stuck straight in, sending healing and dowsing my great neice from head to toe, at the end of which an incredible total of 500+ spirits, stuck within her energy field, and obviously causing severe emotional and physical stress, were hooked out one by one as well as in large batches of 20 to 30 at a time.  If children are particularly sensitive they can see and feel ghosts and often communicate with them.  My neice’s daughter had been an attractive hostess for them over many years and when too many accumulate the child – as in her case – can either become withdrawn or exhibit bizarre behaviour patterns, go off their food and experience sleeplessness. eventually leading to physical manifestations such as tummy or headaches. Quite often children are unable to relate their strange experiences and/or fears to an adult, often thinking they are a normal part of life!  Over the past ten years I have helped hundreds of such little ones to return to their equilibrium by scanning and removing those lost souls to the light and filling the inevitable void  with energy to boost them again…..(“she’s doing much better thankyou, last night she slept all night as usual so i’m happy now 🙂 i can’t thank you enough!!!!! xxxxxxxxxxxx “  came my lovely neice’s reply as I typed this blog.)

Before I had time to shower and dress, my daughter was on the phone for a general chat but I found it hard to concentrate on what she was saying as the drawer on the DVD player underneath the tv suddenly opened and closed again – puzzling me as the controller was out of reach on the other side of the room, so there was no chance I could have accidentally touched it.  Then the drawer opened halfway, closed quickly and opened fully, then closed, opened and closed several times in a manically fast way….I knew immediately it was spirit attracting my attention …and called Michael to come and witness this amusing phenomena!  Whilst holding my madly spinning dowser in my left hand and the phone up to my right ear while I continued to listen to my chatty daughter, I nodded towards the DVD player and just as he walked towards the remote  the drawer snapped closed and the words ‘goodbye‘ came up on the front of the machine!  LOL!  My guides informed me that 300 odd had been diverted to me via these amusing high jinks (they love playing with electrical appliances!) and the only clue I had to their origin was ‘bengal tiger’ !  (I’m still trying to figure that one out!)

Even when preparing the Sunday roast a few hours later my dowser was constantly on the go:  for some reason my deceased Auntie Mary seemed to be in charge of organising this particular influx of souls to the light.  I felt constant tickles to my crown while mixing the gravy powder, swirling energy playing with my own while putting the spuds on to roast, click-click-clicking of the gas rings when my back was turned and tingling cheekbones urging me to help.  What was it about today? Handling large amounts of energy such as this as well as working in a hot kitchen and wanting to strip off made me laugh out loud as I suddenly got the heavenly joke….Auntie Mary and I always used to exchange little drawings on our Christmas cards when she was alive – accompanied with a typical piece of advice ‘don’t forget your thermals!’ (We both felt the cold)  These souls had perished in cold winters or of chills related to exposure! (another 100 or so)

Later in that Day of Rest we’d been invited to visit some friends out in the country for tea and while standing in their large farmhouse kitchen with their well-to-do neighbours (who would probably not understand if they had an inkling of what was to follow)  one of the under cupboard lights flashed on then off again.  Nobody seemed to notice, but by my ravishingly tingling cheekbones I knew what was afoot.  Determined to draw attention to their shennanigans, they persevered in causing the light to flash off and on and off and on….at last noticed by our hostess, who lowered her head to check underneath the cupboard.  A few seconds later it happened again and our host did the same, spending longer investigating the ‘fault’.  I was dying to tell them.  “There’s nothing wrong with the lights…” he said, flummoxed.  ‘Does this happen often?‘ I asked all innocently.  ‘It’s never happened before…It’s a mystery!‘ our hostess laughed, confirming what I already knew.  So I subtly took myself off to the loo and moved on the following:

“…A squirrel/rat catcher, a mormon, ‘someone’s auntie’ (was that Mary’s doing?), a merry-go-round operator, a basketball player, a groundsmen, a drains worker, a little girl clutching a balloon ” and several others amounting to another 22 ….

So there you have it.  Almost 1,000 lost souls who just had to get home for their Sunday roast!

ps   The beautiful serene swans were pictured on our local canal, reflecting in the water ‘as above so below’).                      

The Angel in the Sky was taken over our back garden in 2005.  You may be able to see her face and body as well as many other spirit faces, both animal and human.  When I was only 15 (many moons ago!) my most favourite song was Spirit in the Sky by Norman Greenbaum (‘that’s where I’m gonna go when I die!/ when I die and they lay me to rest I’m gonna go to the place that’s the best!’ )  

I’m sure there’s no need to ask those 1,000 spirits , now ‘in the sky’, what they think?

spirit rescue of american doctor stuck in chimney

One morning last week I came down the stairs only to find Michael’s wide-eyed and sad face gazing up at mine as he asked: ‘Janey would you mind helping someone?’ 

“What on earth’s the matter?” I asked.

“I’ve just seen something tragic on the news.  Can you check someone called Jacquelyn Kotarac from California…?

“Of course,” I said, reaching into my dressing gown pocket for my dowser… “you know I don’t mind at all!” 

“Well I don’t like to keep bothering you” he said in his ever-thoughtful manner (knowing what a very busy time I am having with spirit rescue)…

Jacquelyn’s  spirit was immediately located via my dowsing and in only 6 seconds my helpers in the light had scooped her up into the arms of love where her soul was deposited gently back home…As I held her desperately suffering soul for those awful seconds my hand went up to my throat and grasped it tightly.  “Did she die of strangulation – she couldn’t breathe?” I asked.

He explained that, so very tragically, this well-liked, intelligent doctor had, in a moment of sheer madness and in order to get into her lover’s house, removed the top of a chimney and climbed down, only to get stuck 3 feet from the fireplace below.  Her body was discovered 3 days later as no-one could hear her calls for help. She had been unable to breathe and had therefore died a long and unimaginable asphyxiation.

“Don’t do anything so foolish in the name of love!” came her warning from the other side, just last night.  I grabbed a pen to record her thoughts and emotions.  “I was infatuated and ironically he was all I lived – and died – for.”  And to her family and friends she asks that they “forgive me for my foolish ways…”  Of her dying moments she spoke of enduring agony and desperation… “I thought I was destined to be stuck in that hell hole forever, but then a beautiful white angel pulled me up!”

Her advice for others was “Be in control of your lives.  Don’t let it all count for nothing.  It was not written that I should die in such a frivolous, pathetic manner, wearing my heart on my sleeve for all of mankind to know about.” (By ‘not written’ she means she had not planned to leave the earth this way: we all come down with a rough map of what we wish to achieve, which includes several options of how we will return….sadly, she therefore feels she wasted her given opportunity to experience the rest of her ‘planned’ life) 

At 11.45 pm my eyes stung with sympathy and love for her as I left her singing a rather melancholy ‘hallelujah… hallelujah…..hallelujah…halle..luuuu..jah’  and at midnight I awoke with this Donny Osmond song playing slowly on her personal akashic scroll on the other side (a record of all our gains and our losses in our lifetimes) :

                                    “And they call it puppy love,

                              But I guess they’ll never know

                              How a young heart really feels

                              And how I love(d) him so”

                              God Bless you Jacquelyn Kotarac from California x

what is the ghost of H G Wells’ mother doing in Uppark Country House?

On our second day of holiday in the wonderful West Sussex countryside we decided to utilise our National Trust membership once more and found the nearest tantalising place to visit, the late 17th century Uppark House and Gardens – home of the Fetherstonhaugh’s (yes, we stuttered over their family name too!)  The amazing thing about this very handsome House is that it had been restored from the ceilings of the ground floor upwards after a catastrophic fire in 1989, apparently started accidentally by a workman who left a blowtorch on the roof and went on his lunchbreak!  Locals rushed in to remove as many family treasures and works of art as they could before they were totally ruined and fire engines came from several counties around due to the remoteness of the House – situated on the South Downs with magnificent views towards the Solent.

The first spirit who flew into my radar was accompanied by the 1967 song ‘I am the walrus’ …by  The Beatles, and seemed a little ‘off his rocker’, not really appreciating what was happening to him as I scooped him up with the aid of my dowser and deposited him safely on the other side.  I glimpsed a handsome but bedraggled young man in a dinner jacket, his white collar turned up.  Quite appropriately, The Beatles used this song in their television film and album of the same year….Magical Mystery Tour (about to start!) and was the B side to their number one hit Hello, Goodbye!

Following closely on his tail was a ‘young whippersnapper’ who I saw struggling to climb a tree in an effort to escape the ‘shot that was peppered at him’.  Apparently recorded as ‘a mere accident as he had been hiding in the tree unbeknown to the shooters’ – although he was described as a ‘troublemaker’.

In amongst some interesting case studies there are always some particularly graphic images and a feeling of terrible pain and suffering. Next came someone who had died an extremely violent death (I saw the moment he was blasted in the belly with a shotgun) – poor man.  Then there was a ‘Fenella Fielding lookalike’ (although I have no idea what this British actress looks like, I was just told she had a husky voice) dressed in jodpurs, slim and blonde and working in the stables on the Estate. She had died from an ectopic pregnancy.

As we entered the first room to the left of the entrance hall the phantom of a man stood there facing me, arms hanging loosely from his dark, long-sleeved jacket, dirty cuffs covering large dangling hands.  He had long greasy hair with a straggly fringe and pointed long beard, and his dark eyes widened, suddenly amazed when he realised I had come to rescue him:  “She has come with her dynamo! (dowser) I am FREE!” (I caught the name Ebineezer!)  Another phantom came from my right and called me ‘a rose by any other name’ and was off to join him (another Edward?)

The rest of the meander around the fine house allowed me to immerse myself in the genial surrounds, feeling the happiness and family atmosphere once held within those gentrified walls.  It was not until we entered – through long underground tunnels – the  enormous downstairs kitchens of the House that I stumbled across another ghostly apparition or two.  A woman of commanding stature bustled about telling a couple of others off:  “‘gossip gossip gossip” she complained, clapping her hands for them to get on with their work ,saying  to another woman “roll your sleeves up Maud!”  The names of the  three souls who moved over hand in hand – rather like a vision of the three fairy godmothers in Cinderella! – were Hattie, Sarah and Maud.

Then there was a poor soul who was involved in an accident with a vice in the workshop.. .And while we were in the Butler’s Pantry I placed my hands on the back of an old chair that faced a beaureau and felt ‘overlapped’ by the ghost of a very polite gentleman….but frustratingly could only hear part of his name: “Good morning; I am Arthur Edward (sounded like ‘Snowstorm’ could it have been Fetherstonhaugh?) who said he had ‘travelled round the globe’…then there was Eugene, an ‘understairs maid’  (By way of an explanation for her death I saw a bleeding finger and heard ‘no antibiotics, cut with a cook’s knife’).. Then there was Paulo (Pow-lo), described as a ‘cabin boy’ who was a little black child, carrying lightweight canvas bags.  (Michael suggested he may have been involved with the family on the Grand Tour).  He was quickly joined by Cosmos – a fellow traveller who had died of smallpox.  Eugene’s friend Daisy now floated towards me for help – she was very thin and had died of ‘consumption’.   Finally, an overweight lady named Constance (sounded like ‘ship’s cook’) came puffing and panting into the light.  That was below stairs checked. 

Once back at the B & B after a brilliant day out (walking and meeting newly found friends for an evening meal) I lay back on my bed and used my dowser to check the House for any lost souls I may have missed.  The understairs level was completely at peace again but as I moved up to the ground floor  my dowser leapt in the air as another Fetherstonhaugh – a William or Cedric or both – galloped over yelling ‘once more unto the breach dear friends!’ as he/they pointed upwards with their swords!

In one of the rooms a weird painting had drawn my attention as it was different in style from the other handsome portraits.  As soon as it drew my gaze my face had crackled with spirit recognition (I therefore knew he was still earthbound).  Dated around 1580-1600 this was a painting of a very pale faced man with a large rimmed hat and neck ruffles.  A French man shot across, muttering something about ‘pullet’ (chickens?)  At the time I had been curious enough to check with the room guide to paintings but there was no clue as to the identity of this sitter – and too many people around to play with my dowser!

Finally, and perhaps a little bizarrely, a racehorse named Nottingham (??) galloped home to his stables in the sky and I was delighted to hear, later on, that ‘Sir Harry (of this house) owned a horse of this name in the late 18th century – and now called back: “Thanks old bean!”    And telling me ‘tally-ho!’ (being a Hunting?) repeated their encouragement “once more unto the breach dear girl!” (Henry V Act 3 Scene 1 speech by William Shakespeare…’once more…or close them all up with our English dead…Follow your spirit…England and St George!’)

This made a total of 15 spirits trapped within the fabric of the building and grounds of Uppark House – but the story doesn’t end there.  When we returned to Nottingham I needed to check the location of Uppark and came across some blurb about the history of the house, reading that ‘Uppark’s main claim to fame lies not with the rich aristocrats who lived here, but with a housekeeper named Sarah Wells. Sarah was mother of writer H G Wells – who worked as an Uppark housekeeper from 1880 until 1893.’    I tuned in to the spirit world and ascertained that this famous writer of science fiction rested in peace, but was not prepared for what came next:  “You helped my mother,” he said.  Sarah had been the lady “in her supervisory role of housekeeper” …She had been one of those three ‘fairy godmothers’ to float out of the servants quarters. I am tempted to say ‘All’s Wells that ends Wells’, but I won’t be so corny…