One bloody rude psychic

I write a polite email to a psychic. In fact I wrote the same email to two psychics. I found both on the web. One stated clearly on her web page which I quote verbatim that there are frauds in the medium ship business. The spelling errors are not mine.

‘Although I belive (sic) in what I do I can still be sceptical of the presentation of mediumship. I know of some wonderful mediums who are honest and I have also come across some complete frauds who are just in it for what they can get out of vulnerable people and are also feeding their ego… Sorry but it has to be said !!… When booking a medium always go by personal recommendation. Be as careful in choosing a medium as you would a (sic) in choosing a doctor or a hairdresser for instance. Having a private sitting is a very personal experience and if you are not in the company of a genuine honest medium then you are at risk of all sorts of problems. Always check with your local Spiritualist Church if you are in doubt as many of them will hold a list of reputable mediums in your area.’

So I felt she was genuine, honest, and my email basically confirmed that there were frauds. I WAS in agreement with her statement. I explained why I felt I had been the victim of frauds, and I also went on to say that I did not feel all psychics were and I wondered how much money one would have to spend finding a genuine psychic. Her statement says contact your local spiritual church. I had done this and the last person I saw spent an hour telling me what a great artist I was. This is someone who can’t draw an apple. Still feeling there is a decent psychic out there and close to where I live I asked this particular one if she could recommend someone. My email was not rude. I even began by saying how nice she seemed and genuine, which was what drove me to email her.

Her response was to update her Facebook Status which was rude. It read.

‘Why do people send me lengthy e.mails telling me how they have never managed to date to find a genuine honest medium and explain how disappointed they have been and how they feel we are all the same and only do it for the money and have no repect for their relatives in the spirit world because we either make it up or we google them and take any info about them and use it in a private sitting……..then have the bollocks to ask me to help them…my heckles tend to go up when someone takes that attitude with me and I tend to refuse to go any further with my communication with them. Hate being tested !!!!I  l NEVER said they were all the same, in fact far from it. I actually said   ‘But the thing that bothers me is that I find it hard to believe that every psychic and tarot reader is a fraud. I cannot believe people would clearly lie to people about their dead family members. This is cruel and even if they believe their intentions are good it is still lying and I find it hard to believe that there are that many liars and cruel people out there. Some must be genuine…

Where I was testing her I do not know. I was asking for help… Me thinks she doth protest too much. But I take umbrage to being misquoted in this way and then to have her friends call me a moron and rude.

This is enough to put me off all psychics. Luckily it hasn’t so far but I’m getting close.

I won’t say her name but will happily give it if you email me for it…

I just can’t say NO! Not even to an obscene phone caller…


We all have difficulty saying no at times don’t we? We don’t want to hurt the feelings of someone we love or we don’t want to let a friend down. But when you find you can’t say no to an obscene phone caller, you’re in serious trouble. Oh no, you didn’t? I hear you say. Well, I came close. But I will let you pant a bit longer before telling you about that particular incident. The sadist that I am. I’ve always had difficulty saying no.  I own the most expensive duster in town because I couldn’t say no to a man selling them at the door. I may have managed it if he hadn’t have held up a sign saying he had mental and physical disabilities. In fact if the phone hadn’t have rung I probably would now own a feather duster and several tea towels too. Luckily that time I got off with just the duster. I go to the Video shop with the intention of hiring one DVD and end up with three because they have this special offer and somehow the woman behind the counter gets me to say yes. Of course, this is mostly because I can’t say no thank you. I usually walk out with two bags of popcorn too, because it is better value that way. So, our relaxing DVD night turns into quite a stress as we try to watch all these DVD’s so we can get them back on time, not to mention eating the massive amounts of popcorn (no wonder I can’t lose weight.) Then there was the time with the milkman. milk

The thing was, by the time I got home from my then day job, (Yes, I didn’t always write full time) the milk would have gone off. Andrew, my poor suffering husband, had said.

‘Can you tell him we don’t need him any more. It’s easier to get the milk when we do our our weekly shop.’

Now this was easier said than done. The year before, Tony’s (milkman) wife had been diagnosed with cancer. This is the problem with living in a village, everyone knows everything that happens to everyone. The village had rallied round and given him a nice Christmas box and now here I was,  six months later, about to tell him we don’t need his milk anymore. I did try, but instead of no, what came out was,

‘I have this lactose intolerance thing Tony. I just can’t cope with milk any more…’ and so on and on. You know, anything but the word no? What happens? Andrew comes home to a fridge of lactose free milk.

A lovely man knocks once a month selling fresh fish. I do try,  I really do, but I somehow still end up with a tray of fresh salmon and a large bag of prawns and this is after I have done the weekly shop. I’ve pulled out stray hairs on my mother in law’s chin with her tweezers and believe me I SO wanted to say no. After all everyone else has. Why else do you think it’s left to me? That’s one I really need to say no too. I once spent two hours in the home of a Jehovah witness being preached to because I couldn’t say no to her offer of tea. But the worst, and yes this is the only reason you’ve been reading all the boring stuff above isn’t it? Is when I had a call from an obscene phone caller… untitled

Bearing in mind my inability to say no, I answered the phone in my usual friendly voice.


‘Hello how are you today?’ said the voice.

Oh, I thought, I must know this person even though I couldn’t place the voice. You know what I mean don’t you?

‘I’m fine, how are you?’ I said.

‘Better for hearing your lovely voice,’ he responds.

The first stirrings of doubt that I didn’t know this person began to set in.

‘Oh,’ I say.

‘What are you wearing?’

Oh dear.

‘How can I help you?’ I ask.

‘I like your voice,’ he says. ‘Will you talk to me while I wank myself off?’

Now, your response would be what? ‘Piss off’, maybe? Or, ‘You dirty git’ or perhaps, ‘Get lost pervert? Something that would have a clear NO signal in it, right? What does yours truly say? Bearing in mind saying no is very difficult.

‘The thing is, I’m really busy right now with the ironing.’

Busy with the ironing! What the… Who the hell says that to an obscene phone caller? I may as well have said ‘Sorry, I would but I’m a bit busy. Phone back later.’

I mean, only me. So what happens after I hang up? The phone rings and rings and rings. I’m onto a good one here, he no doubt thought.

Why oh why do I have such trouble saying no. If you have the answer do let me know…

Is anyone out there or over there?



We’re all driven to extreme measures in times of crisis aren’t we? I’m not immune from this and the past few years following my dad’s death has driven me to look for answers to questions like.

Is there more? Does life after death exist? Can people connect to the other side? In fact is there even another side?

Of course like everyone I have experienced odd things in my house. In fact if you look back I have blogged about them. But how much of that was just intuition, feelings, coincidence. I wanted to feel that it was real. That the missing knives and keys had something to do with something called apports. But was it just me being absent-minded. God knows, those who know me will tell you that you couldn’t meet a more absent-minded person. But, I wanted to think it was more than that. Don’t we all? But I am also a rational minded person and I was finding it hard to believe that there was a spirit world.

I looked into near death experience and contacted my dear friend Dr Kenneth Ring. You can read more about him here. A renowned expert of NDE and very well-respected. After exchanging many emails with Ken and reading many of his books I still remained doubtful.

The only way to discover if someone could make contact with my dad was to go to a psychic medium myself. I spent a long time researching them. I finally made contact with a lovely lady on Twitter. A fellow author and I felt warmth from her and decided to have a reading with her.

I had readings in the past. One told me I would divorce my then husband and remarry again some years later to a man who had three children. That was pretty accurate. Another told me I would write books. But I can’t help thinking back and wondering how much I may have helped them. Did I divulge more than I intended? Was my keenness to know the future so strong that I almost put words in their mouth?

My reading on the phone with the lovely lady I met on Twitter was quite impressive. However, the person I wanted to come through, my dad, didn’t happen. I rather felt this was impressive in an odd kind of way. I rationalised that if this woman wanted to make money from me she would have brought forward the person I wanted. She would have attempted to please me. However, she didn’t. Much of what she said I couldn’t connect with and sadly I could not ask my mother who has dementia, for confirmation. But there was one very odd thing that came from the reading. My father in law whom I was close to seemingly came through. Oddly enough I was talking to my husband about his father the night before when looking through an ancestral site. I asked him what the Diamond reference meant. Diamond was used by my father in law in so many ways. My husband thought it was his father’s sister’s name but wasn’t sure. During my reading when my father in law seemed to come through, the psychic said she was being given something but she wasn’t sure if it was a name or not but she would give it. It was Diamond. That was uncanny. But I still find it hard to understand why the spirits have to be so cryptic in their messages with some psychics and yet Lisa Williams the well-known Psychic seems to get everything from shots in the head to weary legs.

But feeling quite impressed with this reading I thought I would try someone local to see if my dad came through this time. So off I went to a local guy who claimed to be a medium, using a monk spirit. He charged me twenty-five pound for the hour and for some odd reason his wife chose to sit in for the first fifteen minutes. The first question I was asked was:

‘Is there anyone in particular you would like to come through for you?’

‘My dad,’ I answered.

Oh, what a mistake that was. The whole reading was with my dad. I have no idea whose dad he was talking about but I know damn well it wasn’t mine. This man loved gardening, in fact he was an expert. My dad did the garden because it had to be done. He asked what happened to his car. I don’t know why he asked me considering he was the one who sold it. He would reach across the bed to my mum and it was just like the beginning of their marriage. Odd seeing as the last five years they had separate bedrooms. My dad tells me I am in the boss in my marriage. NO WAY JOSE. The funniest thing was when I asked if my dad knew about my success as a writer I was told ‘yes, he knows everything he said.’ But he didn’t seem to know what had happened to his car. Ever felt conned?

I’m not dissing all psychics. At least not yet as I am sure they are not all frauds although some people might disagree. So, I shall see what the next one comes up with. Hopefully I’ll get my dad and not someone else’s.