So I Can Read Minds

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So I Can Read Minds

(Interesting to look back at this blog from five years ago to see the sort of things I was up to.)

You can read minds, I am told, but only because I brought coffee at the right moment. Yes actually I can. I don’t, well, not generally, but I can. I wonder if I should. If I key in I can, and if I am asked. Then again I think perhaps I can only do it if it is team work; my spirits teaming with your spirits to your benefit.

I think that is how it works, then only if I have some sort of device; some artefact to rely on. This sort of thing gives me permission I think.

I hadn’t thought of it like this until it came up in conversation, but once I had thought of it lots of examples came flooding back to me.

wizard

“There is a pregnancy here but I cannot be quite sure who it is… it is like it is both of you.”
“How on earth did you know?” “Ah, but it is not you though is it.” “No, but I have been going through her symptoms with her as if it was me too.”

Actually that was before I had got out the usual runes and crystal ball; that is an exception though.

Often I don’t see all that much, or say all that much. When I said at a venue in South Yorkshire that I saw two men interested in her but she was unsure about one of them. The lady said, “Ooo yes, should I go back to him?”

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I said I didn’t feel it was up to me to make such a decision for her but that I would look. There in the crystal ball was a firework crossing the sky. So I simply asked, “What happened on bonfire night?”
That’s all I said, for now anyway. Turns out they had been walking his dog on November the 5th on a moor in their area. He had let the dog off the lead, despite her concern and, of course, the dog took fright and, er, took flight.
He did not have time to search; his program was due to start. So he left her to it. Nearly two hours it took to find the poor terrified creature. She knocked on his door, he opened it, pulled the dog in saying, “My program’s still on” and slammed the door.

woods 01

I did say more, I couldn’t help myself, “And you want to know if you should go back to him!?”

I often see things; I think it is their loved ones trying to prove they are around them. I recall describing a vintage coat that would never be worn taking up a third of the wardrobe: It was the young woman’s late grandmother’s.

Exclamations often come, “How do you know that!” – “Has he been in our house!” The latter being when I was reading tea leaves and described a shelf full of Chinese ornaments. I also at that session asked someone, “Have you been planting a tree this morning?” They had.

tea leaves

In the next session I recall seeing the broken umbrella a daughter had thrown in a bin before entering the hall. She turned and asked her mum if she had told me.

I have taken care to be sure no one can be identified in this blog; the following recipient will probably recognise themselves however…

candle

With some of the things I’ve mentioned one might wonder what use they are but the following snippet was reported back to me later as being very useful.

I had seen details of a few things in the reading but promptly forgot all about it until my friend said, “You do remember how we met?”
I did I had done them a reading. I was reminded of what I had said, “Go in the marquee! – you are not supposed to but go in anyway.”
I had gone on to say they were looking out of a window of a big old building and there was a marquee in the grounds. As they were stuck for something to do they should go in. Apparently they did, it was some sort of amateur archaeology club and as my freind seemed interested they were let in.
There was a lot to be interested in and it was a long pleasant visit, so when a raffle ticket was offered it was seen as a way of making a contribution. It was a winner – the prize? A two week holiday.

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At first the holiday was quiet. Everyone else staying there were in couples. Two other singles turned up though and the three of them got on great. My friend told them all about their book and it turned out these two new friends were publishers. They liked the sound of the book. They published it.

“So, thank you Adrian for your reading, I would never have gone in the marquee otherwise and I am very glad I did.

Perhaps I should do this sort of thing more often.

steel

Footnote:
I’ve not gone into details here of the woman who changed her sexual preferences (in a sudden realisation of love) during the course of my reading but let’s just say that the woman she had arrived with thanked me as they left with a backwards glance and a very big smile on her face and both thumbs up in the air.

Click here for a ghost walk for your group

paranormal

http://www.adrianspendlow.co.uk/paranormal.html
Includes live footage

ghoststories

Ghost stories – http://www.adrianspendlow.co.uk/ghoststories.html

and all the blogs – https://adrianspendlow.wordpress.com/

I’ve added this in as an update, as I was so pleased to receive it;

Hi Adrian,

The blogs great, didn’t realise you’d been so prolific! I often wonder what would have happened if I’d gone in the third Marquee, oh well too late now! I tend not to pass them now 🙂

Cheers!

Nick

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That Which Links is Silken Thread

That Which Links is Silken Thread

I think the little differences intrigue because inside them is the similarity. Connections unspoken received and encouraged. I embrace you as you are. I embrace you as I am. I embrace you. For we are.

thread globe green.jpg

Adrian Spendlow

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Saying Thank You

Your donation of $3 will encourage me to continue in my creative efforts.

$3.00

The Reclamation of Love

So much wonderful feedback caused me to revisit this poem, I read it now as if I have never seen it before and tears of joy and hope and love come falling through my smile.

To read the full poem click here

Adrian Spendlow The Blog

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I don’t do art, draw, or paint; I create images to compliment a poem or a story. This one says, ‘Read my poem; be inspired to love’

The Reclamation of Love

I think I’ve found love

and this time it is going to last

It came on fast

It let me know it is here to stay

This love has spoken of forever

Coming to me in a moment

In the petals of a flower

The seven hour scenery

Had many

Only one leapt out at me

This is a love of everybody

A love of me

Sadness told me

Lost love loses everything

Letting the feelings of failure

Come flooding

Forgetting enthusiasm

A trap of remembering

Saying

Never again

Never never again.

Never, be reliant on being,

of being better,

because of someone

Then, while thinking of others

of knowing

of helping

of contributing

View original post 47 more words

Equality, Consideration, Hope; it burns, it burns, in your heart, in your heart

candle

It burns

For all the ordinary normal people

Who just simply are

Who accept others

Whoever they are

You

I have a command to you

‘Go live your life’

Hurtful people no longer be allowed

This is the light and the candle which says so

It was sent to me

Let it burn

For the sake of love

There is a path ahead

For the sake of love

We will impress upon all this message

For the sake of love

The candle burns

Look into the flame

And hate not

Hate not

Simply remember this to be human

Hate not

We,

Are ordinarycandle

Saying Thank You

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Poems More

I am rerebloging this post because I have added even more poems. the top ones on here are part of the set I performed at Anna Semlyn’s Poetry Slam at the Golden Ball (a cooperatively own pub in York). I was slightly challenged as I was introduced as the Action Poet and basically I had hit veiw / modified / print and the latest batch of writings are for listening to, not performing. I did still have people come up and say I like your sense of humour, even though the theme is quite moving and thought provoking, so I felt I had achieved what I intended (even though I didnt win) 🙂 x

Click through on the link to see….

poems

and my most inspirational and most veiwed poem blogged so far

Saying Thank You

Your donation of $3 will encourage me to continue in my creative efforts.

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Poems

Recollected As

There are some situations
When you listen
Or are listened to
That you realise
After hearing both sides
We may never know the truth

AS

My Friend

Us who feel vulnerable
Are noticed by others
And the heart which we have
Inspires them beyond

AS


Sense of the World

This blooming Bag for Life
Broke the first time I used it.

Where does that leave me????

AS


Metaphor poem

This one is purely an exercise, for a poetry workshop where I am going to be demonstrating metaphor (some say I should cut it to not having the ’my’ type bits.) I think my performance will shock the group into understanding the concept.

AS

Luscious Ripe Metaphor

This over-ripe piece of fruit
You hold in your palm
Is my heart

As your fingers enclose
The juice of my life
Squeezes out

Dripping down upon
The blackened banana
On the floor before you

You press down your foot
Feel the pulp of me gush

Step back
And spit at me

The small stone you fire
Is my cherry-red centre.

AS

Haiku No

The title of this next one is No Title and that is appropriate because it intends to be a haiku and yet haiku do not have a title, hence the title of No Title, but it is not a haiku because haiku do not voice thoughts and considerations, they are not written by effort to write, they are a thing you see you report and the reader finds the meaning with no lecture. But then again I performed this at the poetry slam and people laughed, so, as hai means pun, perhaps it is a haiku after all.

No Title

Watching the writer
Busy in contemplation
No haiku here

The cats cradle girls

The cats cradle girls
Stood out from the others
Not downcast and sad
Not at all
Self-contained, self-absorbed
Lost – to us
Such things are witchcraft
If they continue
If they survive
Just think of the future
Of their descendants
What would
the people of this village be like
in the tomorrows!?

Ammonite

Don’t delve into the creative well
Some of us were always meant to
Tripping round about the edge
Slowly, luxuriantly, stepping forward
Bathed in exploration of within
Finding pools are subterranean
Shouting discoveries through canyons
Echoes reach the light of day
Chilling listeners to gather
For occasional returning
Crushing, eager for some wisdom
Laughing, worshipping the diver
Seeking ways to live and move
Journeying involves return
As ancient waters, timeless, spill
Emptying lungs, and heart, and bile
Spewing dark, rich words is easy now
Somehow envying those who didn’t listen
Dancing in the meadows – laughing
“I can’t reach back to you!”
This fish is gutted, splitted, splayed
The facets now exposed
Will never go away

AS

Wishes of What You Are

I wish you
That which you are living
The road you are going
There is a pathway
It is in your heart

You have the strength
We wind different ways at different paces,
and you walk a path to the woodland of your very own
We have been with you each step

You are going among in your way
Together

AS

Thoughtful

Being a limited being is beautiful
For we the bereaved
The damaged
The vulnerable
Are aware

AS

Times

I rise above
I lift
I like to be

I roll without knowing
I should know
I should

I am the news

The disaster
The fascinating
The moment

And the fall

I rise above

AS

Something Inside Me

I set the default
It doesn’t work
There is always a reset

But I go

I try

Old as I am
There is no wisdom

There is only
A new direction

I wait here
And wonder

What it is…

AS


Forever in Lygra

Drummers and horn-blowers
Around the rocks
And in the sea
Ready

To welcome
As the ship comes in
To this rocky bay

In among them
In the waves
A woman

Such a woman
I will always remember
This moment

As we marched down
To proclaim
In all the tongues

Welcome
Welcome

Welcome

AS

Possibly

I think perhaps that this is
And how I am is how
Yes this is

I cannot walk across
To other than
Because of

As moments tell my lie
Belief is to fly

And I have been in there
Oh why doubt
Do I

Meeting systems of who
Of you

Being with another
Brings a lie

I do not doubt
I…

AS

A Collaboration.
This powerful poem by Norwegian writer Nina Instefjord retranslated into English by Adrian Spendlow (Me).

Videos and Paper

It seems so strange; all the ones who you love,
They never come back.
Some because they no longer are
And some connected to the ones who are no longer

I just watch them on video
Some you like so much your heart bursts

I cry, laugh a bit, then cry again
I remember
One should not feel sorry
Not, for yourself,
‘I hear my father’s voice’
Then I dry my tears

“If things don’t get better, then I don’t know,”
Once my father said

I am thinking the same
But everything comes to an end.
I hope it will be good
And I hope that he is somewhere he can see it

I used to write everything that came into my thoughts
Someone read my thoughts. They
Beat me as a punishment
This stopped my writing
My heart broke
I stopped writing my heart on paper

Life carries sorrow
So I am writing again
Because I have learned
Love and being true to oneself
To close ones
Might be something they don’t know

They can read
So they know
I hope they don’t cry
Like I did

I will write my heart on paper
Again and again until it is mended
Some things never come back
I accept and know
This is not a negative thing

This is how it is going to be
Sometimes you don’t decide over life
Like the weatherman
He also gets weather-sick.

I found the little pieces of paper with words
Now
I am at a crossroads
And I know a change is going to come
I hope it ends up with laughter
Like in the videos I just saw.

NI / AS

Touching Base At Last

When all is desperate
And there is crisis
One has a feeling of
Just getting through

When everything is fine
And all back to normal
The general perception is
Just getting through

AS


Style Gurus

As a loud car passes I contemplate, when I was the age of those passengers old men would shout at me, “Get your hair cut!” Now young men shout the same thing at old men.

AS

Who Is That Man I Am

All the drives
The wishes
Shattered
Gone

I am
I think
I am

So I will be

But to be free

And decide

Who is that man
I used to be

Who

AS

Heart of Norway

Here and there the river
Finds a way to flow
To channel; wind
Despite deep ice

My heart embraces
Love and wonder
Even though
Part of me is dead

Now,
Within the mountain.
So close to the source,
It fills

This land it brings
Such very strong emotion

AS


Broken

The rug is pulled from under
You crash to the floor
And are broken; broken

All you did was listen
It was gradual
Yet now sudden

You once were
Capable of anything
Anything
Hear it said again,
Anything
Anything

You cannot now
Pick yourself up
To climb to your knees

Inside, deep inside
A quiet voice
Is spoken

Love yourself
Hear only your heart
Breathe
Believe

You hardly hear
This tiny part
For you…

Are broken

AS

Top of the World

We occasionally feel
On top of the world
But this earth revolves fast
You have to set quite a pace
Just to keep still

AS

and my most inspirational and most veiwed poem blogged so far

river

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Your donation of $3 will encourage me to continue in my creative efforts.

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Adrian’s Poem Pics – Part 1

Adrian’s Poem Pics – Part 1

Warning – Viewing this blog edition may cause you to feel emotional.

A huge thank you to all the contributors; photographers, artists and wordsmiths.

Also a thank you in advance for all the future contributors.

Some of the pieces in the first edition below have been published or displayed previously, as the collection has built over time when there has been a drive or a need.

Some were created as gifts; to encourage or console, others when I have been moved by an image or experience. Some were commissions.

(I will have missed some links, so if you are in here send me a link and I will update.)

Romans in Steam by Flavius – Commissioned by the Roman Bath Museum in York, indeed I believe the video version is still on display in this wonderful museum.
(That’s me as a Roman that is – and that’s my Roman given name Flavius Agricola) – Photo by Dave Restless
Note; read straight across – first line being, ‘Let us ever remember as we gather’.

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Cat’s Cradle – A commission for an exhibition of Fairy-tale. Fifty groups in New Earswick ‘the Garden Village’ responded. We achieved our aim of promoting the local young people’s drama group play and of creating an on-going exhibition. It still can be seen in the local library.
(If you want to become part of such an amazing theatre group as We Are Theatre let me know…)
(The full exhibition may well be a future blog upon enough requests)

cradle 01

And anyway, what is fairy tale?!?!

King John – Written for the York Angel Festival to celebrate the eight hundredth anniversary of York being declared a city by King John. I read this poem from an ice throne; and so did The Right Honourable Sonia Crisp Lord Mayor of York.

king john

The Be A Gardener poem was written while working on my allotment and I created the art work to accompany it as a birthday present for my Father. Interestingly, I have just found a link to a site which has published it, no idea where they got it.

(the text is easier to read if you click ‘link’ and then ‘read more’)

gardner

Bridge of Life – this poem was created from the gathered words of Angela Jones, Tove Gulbrandsen, Georg Hansen and myself.

bridge of life 02

The Only Way – part of a series of poem cards: Adrian’s Epigrams where I sought to keep the wording as short as possible and yet still retain a poetic element. This one of course comes from personal experience.

through card

The Seiðberendr Speaks – Part of a forthcoming story recording created in partnership with Chloe Anderson this is the planned introduction where we hear a transgender Völva gives a message to Ragnar. (Photograph taken in Gudvangen in 2011 by Leif-Arne Furevik)

ragnar on lief

Place of Safety – I made this model for my Mother and upon giving it to her discovered that it is the cottage she holds in her mind; her dream-world cottage. My Grandmother used to tell her that when things were difficult or upsetting there was a place in your mind you could go where you were safe and rested. As a result of this my Mother created a cottage just over the hill where she could go in her thoughts.

cottage

My Flowers for Mona – (A memorial I sent to be printed and displayed among the flowers for her) –
From those first days of travelling to be a Viking and in between the times between, the wish to be in touch and understand, she was there and shared and introduced, and inspired, trying always to have me feel included and invited; to be a part – Across a wild and vibrant sea. I hear the song she sent me now inside my heart.

mona

Anoraks – More of a performance poem perhaps, so try and imagine my voice (but even more nerdy)
(words me, art work Ana Maus)

anoraks

I was so affected by these guys. My words might not be quite what they were about; they just flooded out of me when I heard their drones, chants, beats and song. I cried.
Folket Bartophor Nordavinden

cry to mother

That Pink Dress – Part of the Read All About It project for We Are Theatre where we created stories and postcards (and indeed a full free book). This was part of an impromptu sessions and I was so moved and pleased to find myself in possession of a poem by the magical Janey Stockdale.

pink dress smaller

The Jacobs Well Project – Many thanks to the wonderful Mary Passeri for allowing me to be part of this amazing project where we gathered to share with people who suffered dementia and with their loved ones. There is a whole series and I hope to share them all with you in the near future (With Mary’s final artwork). Here are a few of the poems with Mary’’s on the spot art.

mellow tomorrows
carers pledge
nowhere dear

From Arm of Man – I was moved by this photograph which was part of a series by Tove Gulbrandsen, who sees with the eyes we all should have.
Bjorgvin, Bergen, Norway.
The Marknad

iron


Olav – I hesitated to write this, I hesitated to publish it here; Olav just does what is needed. He doesn’t want this fuss and praise. Perhaps we should all get on with it and be just as great!
(It is worth mentioning, there was a great deal of very dark smoke, the van was small, the bus full of passengers were in great danger, the tunnel was long, rescue services hesitated; Olav didn’t)
Olav

olav

Norway – It changes you breath by breath.

norway view

(Photo by Tove Gulbrandsen)

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There is a whole load to come…

Poem Pics Part II

Poem for a Freind

or travel or trains – we are into silly short blogs here I think – or films – or My Kinder Joy – or my ghost creation kitYour holiday read – and Easter ChicksIf

Saying Thank You

Your donation of $3 will encourage me to continue in my creative efforts.

$3.00

As I approach a thousand views I thought it would be a useful idea to do a blog summary

As I approach a thousand views I thought it would be a useful idea to do a blog summary, so you can browse through the blogs so far. Catch up and enjoy…

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The Nosegay Blog


The many interesting things told to me while I was working at Barley Hall.

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The Nosegay Blog Too
The nosegay experience continues, and as promised in the first instalment, we will be visiting alternative realities, plus jumping hoops and drinking mud (participation is optional)

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No Title
A haiku which perhaps isn’t a haiku

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Poem: For someone close
Intended to inspire, encourage and praise; perhaps it will affect you too?

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There are such things as elves
Exciting news featurecosta-rica-national-parks-rio-celeste-waterfall-1024x652

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Poem – For a friend and realisation

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Recipe blog – The Courgette Bake Recipe
By popular demand

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ship

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New Viking Heaven uncovered
Big news! (and I’ve discovered three more since.)

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Gudvangen Opening 2015
A very proud moment in my life.opening 2015
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Be Our Statesmen
A plea for a peaceful Politian

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Pancreatic Blog – a travelogue reblog
Quite comical if you like to read about me panicking.

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Memory of Otternesimage
A truly wonderful experience

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A Glimpse (poetry)

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Reaching out to my own heart in art and poem

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Introducing Farmer (Adrian) Giles
I think this might be my fave.image
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Will Not Do (The World)
You have been warned; I plan to move out
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Sparkling Words: A call for artists, a call for artistes and for Vikings plus recipe tips what more could you want? Oh yes, and free books.

me ot
No no no this is my favourite!
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And it was dance
An inspiring memory (actually I was listened to at The Cavern as a result)

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So I Can Read Minds

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All about my secret powers!!!!!

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The Dress
dress image
Thought it was time I added a short story for a change.
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Squash in a Recipe Adrian, Add a Dash of Mystery, then Feed Vikingsharl side label
Yes it is a mystery.
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Salt Rant

Perhaps this counts as part of my recipe series, perhaps.

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chloe back
This is not a Blog – it is a practice – and a call for artists too
Gosh this one is exciting and it is my most recent blog. Oh no. This is my most recent blog.

Saying Thank You

Your donation of $3 will encourage me to continue in my creative efforts.

$3.00

The Dress

dress image

Many weeks she had been thinking. Thinking forward to that day. The day of the ball. This was to be the biggest thing for weeks. We might not admit it inside us when we are really looking forward to things but the inner self sings of it; waits.

The girl of her was really excited, and who would be there was a part of it. They were the one who would make it. Make it the thing that it was. This was the magic of it here in the heart, the heart of the imagery floating.
Not that they needed to do anything. Or even be anything. Being there was enough.

Once you have a connection. Once that connection is promised to be real. Any amount of being a mundane miss in a little world of ordinariness will be acceptable. Just on the promise of what could be and the way that he thinks of you.

Such was the moment of walking into the castle, well the substitute for one. And the bliss of it. Look at the ripples and the train and the elegance. This all is actually nothing. If you want to know how it feels spend the weeks. Spend the, ‘at last here it is feel’, and the cold slow splendour of deciding to try on. Nothing. None of that is anything to the wearing of it.

The daring. Marching. Elegantly. With your friend hopefully keeping up. Looking as if you are together in this when actually you each are an entity with a dream-self within them, who, feeling the starch and the silk and the bodice of it, is walking in heel high and ready.

You don’t know at this moment that everyone is looking at you. You don’t realise anything. Anything really except the most perfect fantasy of it. The fantasy that runs into reality. They are looking though. They might not forget this.

He is, what matters, at this moment though. And it really is a moment, well an evening. There might be nothing but this dusk to dawn thing. We catch what we can and we move on somehow regardless. It all will be worth it, yes, well, if we can work it together. Thank you.

Greetings are made and step climbing is survived. She the figure we talk of here, steps up and asks. Makes all the pleasantries, asks. Says all the things that this beautiful fantasy is made of and walks in to this. The dream. The longing. The looking forward is here. We walk in. Holding the train and, almost forgetting about elegance, walk in.

By the way, asking, “Where is Alistair?” Just in there. Through in the garden. Through all the inner rooms, reception and everything, in, or out actually, onto the conservatory, patio, lawn area. This castle cum party home is rather elegant. Come in calls everyone. They all see how good she is. Feel the specialness of it. Come in, rather, out here.

And walk round she does. Trying not to hobble. Wanting to run at it. Taking the circle of it. Say hellos, circulate. Here he is. No he’s not.

It turns out. After many minutes. After very many minutes. After turning around here elegantly looking for him. The hostess is married to someone called Alistair. She thought you meant him.

‘Oh sorry,’ she says, amid welcoming people, ‘Oh that Alistair, he, didn’t come. He is ill somewhere. Sorry. Enjoy. Have a nice party’.

She,
The girl in the long dress,
Is standing on the hem of her own gown now and is not sure where she will go from here.
and all the blogs – https://adrianspendlow.wordpress.com/

You will also enjoy my dance memories

Saying Thank You

Your donation of $3 will encourage me to continue in my creative efforts.

$3.00

So I Can Read Minds

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spooky tab.jpg

So I Can Read Minds

You can read minds, I am told, but only because I brought coffee at the right moment. Yes actually I can. I don’t, well, not generally, but I can. I wonder if I should. If I key in I can, and if I am asked. Then again I think perhaps I can only do it if it is team work; my spirits teaming with your spirits to your benefit.

I think that is how it works, then only if I have some sort of device; some artefact to rely on. This sort of thing gives me permission I think.

I hadn’t thought of it like this until it came up in conversation, but once I had thought of it lots of examples came flooding back to me.

wizard

“There is a pregnancy here but I cannot be quite sure who it is… it is like it is both of you.”
“How on earth did you know?” “Ah, but it is not you though is it.” “No, but I have been going through her symptoms with her as if it was me too.”

Actually that was before I had got out the usual runes and crystal ball; that is an exception though.

Often I don’t see all that much, or say all that much. When I said at a venue in South Yorkshire that I saw two men interested in her but she was unsure about one of them. The lady said, “Ooo yes, should I go back to him?”

ade silouhette


I said I didn’t feel it was up to me to make such a decision for her but that I would look. There in the crystal ball was a firework crossing the sky. So I simply asked, “What happened on bonfire night?”
That’s all I said, for now anyway. Turns out they had been walking his dog on November the 5th on a moor in their area. He had let the dog off the lead, despite her concern and, of course, the dog took fright and, er, took flight.
He did not have time to search; his program was due to start. So he left her to it. Nearly two hours it took to find the poor terrified creature. She knocked on his door, he opened it, pulled the dog in saying, “My program’s still on” and slammed the door.

woods 01

I did say more, I couldn’t help myself, “And you want to know if you should go back to him!?”

I often see things; I think it is their loved ones trying to prove they are around them. I recall describing a vintage coat that would never be worn taking up a third of the wardrobe: It was the young woman’s late grandmother’s.

Exclamations often come, “How do you know that!” – “Has he been in our house!” The latter being when I was reading tea leaves and described a shelf full of Chinese ornaments. I also at that session asked someone, “Have you been planting a tree this morning?” They had.

tea leaves

In the next session I recall seeing the broken umbrella a daughter had thrown in a bin before entering the hall. She turned and asked her mum if she had told me.

I have taken care to be sure no one can be identified in this blog; the following recipient will probably recognise themselves however…

candle

With some of the things I’ve mentioned one might wonder what use they are but the following snippet was reported back to me later as being very useful.

I had seen details of a few things in the reading but promptly forgot all about it until my friend said, “You do remember how we met?”
I did I had done them a reading. I was reminded of what I had said, “Go in the marquee! – you are not supposed to but go in anyway.”
I had gone on to say they were looking out of a window of a big old building and there was a marquee in the grounds. As they were stuck for something to do they should go in. Apparently they did, it was some sort of amateur archaeology club and as my freind seemed interested they were let in.
There was a lot to be interested in and it was a long pleasant visit, so when a raffle ticket was offered it was seen as a way of making a contribution. It was a winner – the prize? A two week holiday.

woods 02

At first the holiday was quiet. Everyone else staying there were in couples. Two other singles turned up though and the three of them got on great. My friend told them all about their book and it turned out these two new friends were publishers. They liked the sound of the book. They published it.

“So, thank you Adrian for your reading, I would never have gone in the marquee otherwise and I am very glad I did.

Perhaps I should do this sort of thing more often.

steel

Footnote:
I’ve not gone into details here of the woman who changed her sexual preferences (in a sudden realisation of love) during the course of my reading but let’s just say that the woman she had arrived with thanked me as they left with a backwards glance and a very big smile on her face and both thumbs up in the air.

Click here for a ghost walk for your group

paranormal

http://www.adrianspendlow.co.uk/paranormal.html
Includes live footage

ghoststories

Ghost stories – http://www.adrianspendlow.co.uk/ghoststories.html

and all the blogs – https://adrianspendlow.wordpress.com/

I’ve added this in as an update, as I was so pleased to receive it;

Hi Adrian,

The blogs great, didn’t realise you’d been so prolific! I often wonder what would have happened if I’d gone in the third Marquee, oh well too late now! I tend not to pass them now 🙂

Cheers!

Nick

Saying Thank You

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