Anyone know of any firms/plumbers who take an apprentice?
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Can't the same be said for 'Cheapest Booze' shops though
Strange things do indeed happen. Years ago (sometime in the 1980's) I suddenly had an awareness of a nasty pong in our bedroom. It was the kind of fishy smell you associate with wiring melting or overheating in plugs or sockets. Husband couldn't smell it, and neither could the kids. Just me. However, just to appease me, husband checked all the plugs and sockets and they were all fine. Friends made the usual witty suggestions of smelly socks under the bed etc. and I did actually check but there were none.
The smell was there for months and even used to wake me in the middle of the night. I'd shake husband awake and he could never smell it because the moment I made him aware the bloody pong disappeared. It was worse in the middle of the day when I was in the house on my own.
One morning, after husband and kids had left for work and school, I was in the bedroom getting ready for work and the smell came, but this time so strong it made my eyes water. It was all around me too as if I was in some kind of cloud. It scared me no end, and I got a bit hysterical. Stern words were issued from me along with tears of anger and frustration, then I felt it shift. It seemed to hang in a gap between the bedroom door and the wardrobe (a space of about 9 inches). I sat on the bed feeling very upset and wondering what (and who) it was. After that episode, I never smelled it again.
I discussed it with several people who I know are sensitive to this stuff and was told by each of them independently that I'd been having visitations. It didn't mean me any harm and couldn't help the accompanying pong. I often wondered if it had been my mum but knowing her she'd have brought the fragrance of Miss Dior with her, not the smell of rotting cod!
It's something I'll never forget and just in case it WAS my mum, I've apologised to her times many for getting hysterical.
The day my Mum died (I was on holiday - 2 weeks off work), I was at home pottering about.
A knock at the door. I answered it, it was my Mum's partners relation to tell me my Mum had passed away on holiday in Turkey.
I was alone at home. I looked at a baby photo of me on top of a bookcase & it was dusty and I got the message clean it. I moved 2 or 3 small empty beer bottles off the table and it was like someone blew accross the top of the bottle. This was inside the house.
I opened the back kitchen door to put the bottles in the bin, and 3 empty containers (detergent bottles destined for the bin) on the outside window sill (no wind at all) threw themselves on the floor.
Any atheist can challenge this - but I believe the soul lives on after death - for a short while, probably until the service of burial or cremation which releases the soul to where it needs to go.
That's what's wrong with British politics now. It's started to be personality politics where we are voting for the man not the party.
I know a chap who had one installed and he writes down the figures every single day.For the first few months he was obsessed and used to sit and watch the meters figures changing.
He reliably informed me that the figures scoot round quickly when the toaster and kettle are on.I don't think he has had tea and toast for breakfast since.