To be really shitting myself? Think we may have a guest.

[beatrixkitto]

To cut a long story short........ Moved to our lovely detached (this is relevant) house at the start of the year and everything has been fine and dandy, we have plenty of space, 3 large bedrooms, family bathroom, downstairs w.c. conservatory etc.... The house is 30s style with bay windows etc

Anyhoo, a couple of months ago dh were in bed on a sunday morning a lovely bright morning, birds singing outside etc and started to hear banging noises coming from the attic it was coming from both the outside wall where the bay window is and the wall opposite (next to dd1 bedroom) as soon as I sat up in bed it stopped immediatley. Then the following weekend it happened again, this time I kept myself laid down with my eyes closed and it carried on for a good 5/6 mins untill there was a loud bang that shocked me and I sat up, again it stopped and DH and I had the "what the fuck was that?" conversation.

We haven't really thought about it or spoken about it until now, we have been upstairs with DD I have been in the shower etc, DH waiting to get out of work overalls and jump in etc and started to play with DD and is jumping around, doing a silly little dance etc to make her laugh and the banging started again only this time really loud and was echoing DH's banging. This happened around half an hour ago, it went on for around 10 mins.

If this is not a ghost what the hell else could it be? I am at home during the day with DD and am now bricking it for tomorow and being home alone.

Captain Howdy

Scoundrel, But what is Annette Fielding is a figment of your imagination?

"Man size in marble" ta for that it brought back bad memories of when I read it when i was ten years old. Coming back and finding the empty slab .........
Its yer pipes !

BOO!

You think banging pipes hearing noises is spooky? Come over to my house and meet my children.

My sister is really worried about a friend's dogs which have gone missing, in fact she has even been having dreams about these lost dogs. She decides to come and see me to tell me about the missing dogs and show me the fliers she has made. She walks into my house to discover my hallway and living room covered in flourescent poststicks.

Poststicks everywhere: walls, furniture, TV, doors, even stuck to the children - you get the picture.

On every single poststick were the words: missing dogs.

One floored sister.

Two happy children.

Co-in-ci-dence. But a good one!