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My Nana's House

plastic wiganer

Ephemeral Spectre
Joined
Nov 3, 2015
Messages
344
For approx 30 years my late Nana (grandmother), who I loved dearly, lived alone - well with her dog - in a large 3 bedroom house, built in 1877.

This house had two large cellars seperated by the stairs back upto the ground floor, both york stone floored, one (the rear most) had lighting and small windows, the front one - no means of lighting or windows. in the front cellar,there were meat hooks screwed into the ceiling and a large stone topped table. (no kidding) this will become clearer at the end.

Well, throughout my teenage years i was into motorcycles (still am) and used to work on my bikes in the back cellar. i was often down there with mates etc and there was always a weird feeling about the place, it was that pronounced sometimes that if i went out of the cellar (loo break etc), when i got back my mates would be waiting in the yard and not in there!
I must say at this point that i never actually experienced any "activity" as such, but there was always THAT FEELING..

Anyway, i would sometimes be down there until maybe 10/11pm and out of no where i would get this overpowering feeling that i was no longer welcome - a REALLY REALLY weird feeling, I WAS NOT WANTED THERE,shivers,hair on the back of my neck stood up, goosebumps the lot. at this point i would stop whatever i was doing - not even finishing that small last task, and straight away lock the outside door, proceed up the stone stairs, not daring to look towards that front cellar, through the wooden door at the top NEVER EVER looking back down, and would pull the door shut whilst reaching through and turning the light off and locking the door behind me. It was a truly un-nerving feeling that i have never felt since. there was definitely something down there.

Now back to the table... well when the house was first built, it and the one next door were farm houses, and my nanas house was the one where the animals were slaughtered and butchered - hence the stone floors, hooks and stone table etc.

I have often wondered if the person doing the killing was not a nice person who may have been somewhat unkind/uncaring for the animals he was dispatching and was it his presence that you could feel??

I do know that my wife really hated going in the house,and would never go near the cellar, my mum and sister would never go in the house unless somebody else was there. and as said before my mates would not stay in the cellar if i wasn't there (although i don't know what they thought i would do?) we did have a laugh and see how long you could stay in the front cellar alone with the door closed... not very long (a few seconds)and you would be out like a shot!
 
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for approx 30 years my late nana (grandmother), who i loved dearly, lived alone - well with her dog - in a large 3 bedroom house, built in 1877.

This house had two large cellars seperated by the stairs back upto the ground floor, both york stone floored, one (the rear most) had lighting and small windows, the front one - no means of lighting or windows. in the front cellar,there were meat hooks screwed into the ceiling and a large stone topped table. (no kidding) this will become clearer at the end.

Well, throughout my teenage years i was into motorcycles (still am) and used to work on my bikes in the back cellar. i was often down there with mates etc and there was always a weird feeling about the place, it was that pronounced sometimes that if i went out of the cellar (loo break etc), when i got back my mates would be waiting in the yard and not in there!
I must say at this point that i never actually experienced any "activity" as such, but there was always THAT FEELING..

Anyway, i would sometimes be down there until maybe 10/11pm and out of no where i would get this overpowering feeling that i was no longer welcome - a REALLY REALLY weird feeling, I WAS NOT WANTED THERE,shivers,hair on the back of my neck stood up, goosebumps the lot. at this point i would stop whatever i was doing - not even finishing that small last task, and straight away lock the outside door, proceed up the stone stairs, not daring to look towards that front cellar, through the wooden door at the top NEVER EVER looking back down, and would pull the door shut whilst reaching through and turning the light off and locking the door behind me.
It was a truly un-nerving feeling that i have never felt since. there was definitely something down there.

Now back to the table... well when the house was first built, it and the one next door were farm houses, and my nanas house was the one where the animals were slaughtered and butchered - hence the stone floors, hooks and stone table etc.

I have often wondered if the person doing the killing was not a nice person who may have been somewhat unkind/uncaring for the animals he was dispatching and was it his presence that you could feel??

I do know that my wife really hated going in the house,and would never go near the cellar, my mum and sister would never go in the house unless somebody else was there. and as said before my mates would not stay in the cellar if i wasn't there (although i don't know what they thought i would do?) we did have a laugh and see how long you could stay in the front cellar alone with the door closed... not very long ( a few seconds)and you would be out like a shot!

We have a cemetery in our town that's like that. One second it's quiet and peaceful, the next there's an overwhelming sense that you definitely aren't wanted and had better run away immediately! It really is an awful feeling.
 
My brother lives in a rather unremarkable 19thC terraced house which has a large cellar and also has hooks on the ceiling and a stone table! There's no shop front on the house and no sign it was ever a butcher's or anything... They were just built for some local mine or factory I forget which...

I once had a house - also a terrace - in Birmingham that we thought had no cellar but one day through a crack in the floorboards in a cupboard, saw it had a full cellar - but no steps or possible way down to the or even sign of an opening where there once had been a way down. And when we bought it, I asked the estate agent if it had a cellar and he said it didn't... It wasn't like a crawl-space but a full blown, stone floored cellar.
 
My brother lives in a rather unremarkable 19thC terraced house which has a large cellar and also has hooks on the ceiling and a stone table! There's no shop front on the house and no sign it was ever a butcher's or anything... They were just built for some local mine or factory I forget which...

I once had a house - also a terrace - in Birmingham that we thought had no cellar but one day through a crack in the floorboards in a cupboard, saw it had a full cellar - but no steps or possible way down to the or even sign of an opening where there once had been a way down. And when we bought it, I asked the estate agent if it had a cellar and he said it didn't... It wasn't like a crawl-space but a full blown, stone floored cellar.

Sorry for the delayed reply but didn't you ever open it up and use it?
 
I am fascinated by accounts like these, and find them easier to relate to than apparition or poltergeist accounts because I have yet to experience those. I can't even say I have felt bad presence in a place, but I find the idea compelling.

What the o.p.'s account reminded me of is that my wife's mother was raised on a farm and vividly remembers cows crying as they were being led to slaughter. She was a child at the time and enjoyed looking after the cows. She is convinced that when they were led to slaughter, they understood what was happening. She says that they not only cried vocally they shed tears.

Maybe the bad feeling left in a place of animal slaughter can be from the trauma of the animals, not necessarily the people doing the killing?

I once visited the field where the Battle of Hastings was fought with a friend who was sensitive to bad feelings in places. She didn't like any of it, but one area really upset her and when I read the information plaque it said that area had been boggy at the time and lots of horses got trapped and died there along with men during the battle.

I've always been curious about experiencing bad feelings about a place. My friend said her whole family was sensitive in the same way except for her gran. Once they all visited a house where, she said without first speaking about it, they all felt something repulsive about a particular chair, and then were horrified when gran sat down in it. I think I must be like her gran, oblivious to whatever others can sense. But maybe if I went in the o.p.'s cellar I would be creeped out too?
 
My brother lives in a rather unremarkable 19thC terraced house which has a large cellar and also has hooks on the ceiling and a stone table! There's no shop front on the house and no sign it was ever a butcher's or anything... They were just built for some local mine or factory I forget which...

I once had a house - also a terrace - in Birmingham that we thought had no cellar but one day through a crack in the floorboards in a cupboard, saw it had a full cellar - but no steps or possible way down to the or even sign of an opening where there once had been a way down. And when we bought it, I asked the estate agent if it had a cellar and he said it didn't... It wasn't like a crawl-space but a full blown, stone floored cellar.

A niece of mine is renovating an ordinary brick terraced city house. When they pulled up the downstairs floorboards they found a half-cellar, a few feet deep. She had it boarded over. I was shocked as I would have installed trapdoors and kept stuff down there.

There's a shop near here, one of the oldest buildings in town, which has a full cellar with steps and, AND, get this, a rumoured secret door to the cellars of the haunted theatre next door. Why would you board that over? But they did. I saw it done.

It's now a very smart tattoo parlour where I went for my last inking.

I wonder if they hear the odd knock on the floor over the old cellar steps... :eek:
 
I'm slightly confused by the details in the first post. You might be able to do some post-slaughter dressing of a carcass in a cellar - but I defy anyone to get a live cow down some cellar stairs in order to kill it (a sheep - well, possibly...but by god you're going to have your work cut out). And I'm not sure why on earth anyone would try, when there are much more convenient places to kill a large animal on on any farm.

Rabbits and poultry, maybe - but again, why? The back yard was the normal place for such a procedure: plenty of light and easier to wash away the aftermath. The hooks and tables may have something to do with the dressing, cleaning and hanging of meat - but I strongly suspect that any flesh in that cellar was decidedly inanimate before it got there.
 
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I'm slightly confused by the details in the first post. You might be able to do some post-slaughter dressing of a carcass in a cellar - but I defy anyone to get a live cow down some cellar stairs in order to kill it (a sheep - well, possibly...but by god you're going to have your work cut out). And I'm not sure why on earth anyone would try, when there are much more convenient places to kill a large animal on on any farm.

Rabbits and poultry, maybe - but again, why? The back yard was the normal place for such a procedure: plenty of light and easier to wash away the aftermath. The hooks and tables may have something to do with the dressing, cleaning and hanging of meat - but I strongly suspect that any flesh in that cellar was decidedly inanimate before it got there.
Some houses built on a hill may have an external door that leads into the cellar area.
Also, in some grand houses, they have external doors that are accessible by means of steps or a ramp.
But yes, I can't imagine leading an animal through a small door and down steps.
 
Some houses built on a hill may have an external door that leads into the cellar area...

Yes, in fact I spent much of my early life in just such a house - and looking again at the original post, maybe this was the situation; the fact that you could get a motorbike in there suggests there had to be ground level access. But I still can't imagine why anyone would slaughter livestock within the footprint of the domestic environment. I was born on a farm in a very rural area and spent a lot of time in and around both sheep and cattle outfits, and I've never seen or heard of such a thing. Possibly it was a converted outbuilding - but I'm not sure this type of structure commonly has cellars.
 
Parents bought a stone built house (originally part of an estate) in the early 70's which required renovating. During the work the builders uncovered a stone staircase leading to a cellar which had been blocked off in what appeared to be just a pantry. The cellar had been entirely filled with rubble before being sealed off. God knows why but once cleared it appeared to be much older than the mid Victorian house it belonged to. The house itself always felt very very peaceful and calm but the cellar I couldn't visit without being totally spooked out. I always believed that it simply did not "belong" to the home. Perhaps a previous owner felt the same and that was the reason it was blocked off?
 
Parents bought a stone built house (originally part of an estate) in the early 70's which required renovating. During the work the builders uncovered a stone staircase leading to a cellar which had been blocked off in what appeared to be just a pantry. The cellar had been entirely filled with rubble before being sealed off...

That's interesting - I once worked on a restoration project where something similar had happened. Basically the more recent house (still over 150 years old) had been built using the foundations of an older one, and as the cellar walls formed part of those foundations they had therefore been left intact. The Victorian builders had then used the Georgian cellar void as a dump for unusable material from the older building. I think this is possibly more common than we might at first think.
 
That's interesting - I once worked on a restoration project where something similar had happened. Basically the more recent house (still over 150 years old) had been built using the foundations of an older one, and as the cellar walls formed part of those foundations they had therefore been left intact. The Victorian builders had then used the Georgian cellar void as a dump for unusable material from the older building. I think this is possibly more common than we might at first think.
Yes that could very well be the explanation of the dumping of the materials and the feeling that the cellar did not "fit". Thanks for the response.:)
 
Cellars tend to be unusable spaces because they are often chronically damp. And I can't imagine anyone wanting to use one to slaughter animals - the mess would be incredible, not just blood (which is containable, I suppose) but dung, and the smell...not something one would want underneath a house.

As an aside, my son went to university in Sheffield and one of the houses he and his mates lodged in had a cellar (as have many in Sheffield). When they opened the door they found random slogans chalked on the walls, chains and dolls heads nailed to beams...

Students, eh?
 
For approx 30 years my late Nana (grandmother), who I loved dearly, lived alone - well with her dog - in a large 3 bedroom house, built in 1877.

This house had two large cellars seperated by the stairs back upto the ground floor, both york stone floored, one (the rear most) had lighting and small windows, the front one - no means of lighting or windows. in the front cellar,there were meat hooks screwed into the ceiling and a large stone topped table. (no kidding) this will become clearer at the end.

Well, throughout my teenage years i was into motorcycles (still am) and used to work on my bikes in the back cellar. i was often down there with mates etc and there was always a weird feeling about the place, it was that pronounced sometimes that if i went out of the cellar (loo break etc), when i got back my mates would be waiting in the yard and not in there!
I must say at this point that i never actually experienced any "activity" as such, but there was always THAT FEELING..

Anyway, i would sometimes be down there until maybe 10/11pm and out of no where i would get this overpowering feeling that i was no longer welcome - a REALLY REALLY weird feeling, I WAS NOT WANTED THERE,shivers,hair on the back of my neck stood up, goosebumps the lot. at this point i would stop whatever i was doing - not even finishing that small last task, and straight away lock the outside door, proceed up the stone stairs, not daring to look towards that front cellar, through the wooden door at the top NEVER EVER looking back down, and would pull the door shut whilst reaching through and turning the light off and locking the door behind me. It was a truly un-nerving feeling that i have never felt since. there was definitely something down there.

Now back to the table... well when the house was first built, it and the one next door were farm houses, and my nanas house was the one where the animals were slaughtered and butchered - hence the stone floors, hooks and stone table etc.

I have often wondered if the person doing the killing was not a nice person who may have been somewhat unkind/uncaring for the animals he was dispatching and was it his presence that you could feel??

I do know that my wife really hated going in the house,and would never go near the cellar, my mum and sister would never go in the house unless somebody else was there. and as said before my mates would not stay in the cellar if i wasn't there (although i don't know what they thought i would do?) we did have a laugh and see how long you could stay in the front cellar alone with the door closed... not very long (a few seconds)and you would be out like a shot!
This happened on multiple occations. I woke up at exactly 4:47am and i felt a strange stroking sensation on the inside of my left thigh. I thought it may be my dog asking for food but he dies 3 years ago. So i pulled back my covers but to my surprise, i had forgotten i lost my leg at birth. So i went back to sleep. I was awoken again at the same time for the next month every night. One night, everything changed. I was stroked again but this time i was ready. I was already awake when the demon entered my room. I rolled over to catch it but i saw a looming dark figure. But it was just my mixed race uncle, Tyrone.
For approx 30 years my late Nana (grandmother), who I loved dearly, lived alone - well with her dog - in a large 3 bedroom house, built in 1877.

This house had two large cellars seperated by the stairs back upto the ground floor, both york stone floored, one (the rear most) had lighting and small windows, the front one - no means of lighting or windows. in the front cellar,there were meat hooks screwed into the ceiling and a large stone topped table. (no kidding) this will become clearer at the end.

Well, throughout my teenage years i was into motorcycles (still am) and used to work on my bikes in the back cellar. i was often down there with mates etc and there was always a weird feeling about the place, it was that pronounced sometimes that if i went out of the cellar (loo break etc), when i got back my mates would be waiting in the yard and not in there!
I must say at this point that i never actually experienced any "activity" as such, but there was always THAT FEELING..

Anyway, i would sometimes be down there until maybe 10/11pm and out of no where i would get this overpowering feeling that i was no longer welcome - a REALLY REALLY weird feeling, I WAS NOT WANTED THERE,shivers,hair on the back of my neck stood up, goosebumps the lot. at this point i would stop whatever i was doing - not even finishing that small last task, and straight away lock the outside door, proceed up the stone stairs, not daring to look towards that front cellar, through the wooden door at the top NEVER EVER looking back down, and would pull the door shut whilst reaching through and turning the light off and locking the door behind me. It was a truly un-nerving feeling that i have never felt since. there was definitely something down there.

Now back to the table... well when the house was first built, it and the one next door were farm houses, and my nanas house was the one where the animals were slaughtered and butchered - hence the stone floors, hooks and stone table etc.

I have often wondered if the person doing the killing was not a nice person who may have been somewhat unkind/uncaring for the animals he was dispatching and was it his presence that you could feel??

I do know that my wife really hated going in the house,and would never go near the cellar, my mum and sister would never go in the house unless somebody else was there. and as said before my mates would not stay in the cellar if i wasn't there (although i don't know what they thought i would do?) we did have a laugh and see how long you could stay in the front cellar alone with the door closed... not very long (a few seconds)and you would be out like a shot!
Me n my mate Lenny were playin some intense xbox at 3:33am so we tried to summon some ghosts. We sat in the party waiting until Lenny whipped out his ouija board. Then for the first time we came across the most satanic demon of them all. Elise. She was silent at first but then began sending many messages to us. Including her old instagram account. Still active after her death. So we checked it out and what we saw changed us forever.
For approx 30 years my late Nana (grandmother), who I loved dearly, lived alone - well with her dog - in a large 3 bedroom house, built in 1877.

This house had two large cellars seperated by the stairs back upto the ground floor, both york stone floored, one (the rear most) had lighting and small windows, the front one - no means of lighting or windows. in the front cellar,there were meat hooks screwed into the ceiling and a large stone topped table. (no kidding) this will become clearer at the end.

Well, throughout my teenage years i was into motorcycles (still am) and used to work on my bikes in the back cellar. i was often down there with mates etc and there was always a weird feeling about the place, it was that pronounced sometimes that if i went out of the cellar (loo break etc), when i got back my mates would be waiting in the yard and not in there!
I must say at this point that i never actually experienced any "activity" as such, but there was always THAT FEELING..

Anyway, i would sometimes be down there until maybe 10/11pm and out of no where i would get this overpowering feeling that i was no longer welcome - a REALLY REALLY weird feeling, I WAS NOT WANTED THERE,shivers,hair on the back of my neck stood up, goosebumps the lot. at this point i would stop whatever i was doing - not even finishing that small last task, and straight away lock the outside door, proceed up the stone stairs, not daring to look towards that front cellar, through the wooden door at the top NEVER EVER looking back down, and would pull the door shut whilst reaching through and turning the light off and locking the door behind me. It was a truly un-nerving feeling that i have never felt since. there was definitely something down there.

Now back to the table... well when the house was first built, it and the one next door were farm houses, and my nanas house was the one where the animals were slaughtered and butchered - hence the stone floors, hooks and stone table etc.

I have often wondered if the person doing the killing was not a nice person who may have been somewhat unkind/uncaring for the animals he was dispatching and was it his presence that you could feel??

I do know that my wife really hated going in the house,and would never go near the cellar, my mum and sister would never go in the house unless somebody else was there. and as said before my mates would not stay in the cellar if i wasn't there (although i don't know what they thought i would do?) we did have a laugh and see how long you could stay in the front cellar alone with the door closed... not very long (a few seconds)and you would be out like a shot!
One time i was sleeping at my nana's house and at about 2am i felt a strange stroking sensation on the inside of my left thigh. I assumed it was my dog asking for food but remembered he died 3 years ago. Another thing, when i pulled back thr covers to see what it was, i remembered that i lost my leg at birth. I stayed awake til 2am the next night to catch the culprit. As i heard my door unlock i rolled oger and saw a large looming dark figure. As it drew closer i realised it was just my uncle tyrone.
 
On the subject of cellars, there's supposed to be one in my home town that's full of vintage motorbikes! It was apparently sealed up and the house above it demolished, leaving the bike safe underground.
Like a two-wheeled version of the strategic rail reserve?
 
This happened on multiple occations. I woke up at exactly 4:47am and i felt a strange stroking sensation on the inside of my left thigh. I thought it may be my dog asking for food but he dies 3 years ago. So i pulled back my covers but to my surprise, i had forgotten i lost my leg at birth. So i went back to sleep. I was awoken again at the same time for the next month every night. One night, everything changed. I was stroked again but this time i was ready. I was already awake when the demon entered my room. I rolled over to catch it but i saw a looming dark figure. But it was just my mixed race uncle, Tyrone.

Me n my mate Lenny were playin some intense xbox at 3:33am so we tried to summon some ghosts. We sat in the party waiting until Lenny whipped out his ouija board. Then for the first time we came across the most satanic demon of them all. Elise. She was silent at first but then began sending many messages to us. Including her old instagram account. Still active after her death. So we checked it out and what we saw changed us forever.

One time i was sleeping at my nana's house and at about 2am i felt a strange stroking sensation on the inside of my left thigh. I assumed it was my dog asking for food but remembered he died 3 years ago. Another thing, when i pulled back thr covers to see what it was, i remembered that i lost my leg at birth. I stayed awake til 2am the next night to catch the culprit. As i heard my door unlock i rolled oger and saw a large looming dark figure. As it drew closer i realised it was just my uncle tyrone.

This is a forum for discussing strange phenomena that actually occurred. If you would like to post fiction, please start a thread in the CHAT section. Any posts of this kind that appear in Fortean fora will simply be deleted in future.
 
This is a forum for discussing strange phenomena that actually occurred. If you would like to post fiction, please start a thread in the CHAT section. Any posts of this kind that appear in Fortean fora will simply be deleted in future.
Huh? You think he made all that up? But it was so plausible, especially the part about forgetting they had no leg.
 
Huh? You think he made all that up? But it was so plausible, especially the part about forgetting they had no leg.
Looks like he was mocking Plastic Wiganer's story or something.
 
I'm slightly confused by the details in the first post. You might be able to do some post-slaughter dressing of a carcass in a cellar - but I defy anyone to get a live cow down some cellar stairs in order to kill it (a sheep - well, possibly...but by god you're going to have your work cut out). And I'm not sure why on earth anyone would try, when there are much more convenient places to kill a large animal on on any farm.

Sorry i have only just noticed your question!
The back cellar had an exit to the outside yard via an old wooden door with (iirc) 3 steps up to ground level BUT the back yard had been concreted over decades before, and the "new" steps formed at the same time (may have originally been a 'ramp' of some sort?. unfortunately both my grandma and dad are now long since gone so i have no-one to ask what it was like beforehand?
What i didnt make clear in the original post was there was also internal steps (the ones mentioned). i do seem to remember that the front cellar - the one where the hooks and table were, did have the remnants of some external ground level (horizontal) windows still visible inside but not outside, but like the rear ones steps had been filled in/altered many years previously.
As for people mocking me - go ahead - im a big boy now -water off a ducks back! I KNOW what i felt at the time even though i have not been in the house for well over 20 years now. unfortunately for me i cannot ask the friends mentioned in my original post to back my story up, as i no longer see them anymore - long since drifted apart
 
I can't even say I have felt bad presence in a place, but I find the idea compelling.
It's fascinating to speculate on what is going on—in your brain, in your body, in the environment—to create such feelings. I'd love to see more accounts and ideas about this.

As an aside, my son went to university in Sheffield and one of the houses he and his mates lodged in had a cellar (as have many in Sheffield). When they opened the door they found random slogans chalked on the walls, chains and dolls heads nailed to beams...

Students, eh?
They must have been art students.
 
It's fascinating to speculate on what is going on—in your brain, in your body, in the environment—to create such feelings. I'd love to see more accounts and ideas about this.


They must have been art students.
Art students for sure. Son 2 did a degree in graphic design, finished last year and he's rceently moved into his own place. We're still finding drawer fulls of bizarre objects kept 'just in case' needed for projects when he was a student... And they did this one exhibition where they collected a load of random objects - the nastiest old lady china ornaments you've ever seen, dead toys, old pitchforks, you name it... he also has a stuffed bat in a dusty display case... and over a year on we're still finding this stuff. He's the one I posted about before who has the hideous 'crying boy' portrait - he helped clear out his rich landlord's georgian pile after a flood and the landlord allowed them to keep whatever they wanted, from the attic or something. His partner is refusing to let him take the horrible picture to their place and I said I didn't want it here. He's vanished it. But I know it never left the house. I've no idea where he's hidden it (his little brother is now in his old room, and still living with some boxes of older bro's rubbish) but I know he will have put it somewhere that will give me a heart attack when I find it.

ETA: When it does turn up, I'll take a photo for yous, here. It is fecking terrifying.

ETA2: I just googled 'crying boy portrait' and none of the results I can see, is it.
 
Art students for sure. Son 2 did a degree in graphic design, finished last year and he's rceently moved into his own place. We're still finding drawer fulls of bizarre objects kept 'just in case' needed for projects when he was a student... And they did this one exhibition where they collected a load of random objects - the nastiest old lady china ornaments you've ever seen, dead toys, old pitchforks, you name it... he also has a stuffed bat in a dusty display case... and over a year on we're still finding this stuff. He's the one I posted about before who has the hideous 'crying boy' portrait - he helped clear out his rich landlord's georgian pile after a flood and the landlord allowed them to keep whatever they wanted, from the attic or something. His partner is refusing to let him take the horrible picture to their place and I said I didn't want it here. He's vanished it. But I know it never left the house. I've no idea where he's hidden it (his little brother is now in his old room, and still living with some boxes of older bro's rubbish) but I know he will have put it somewhere that will give me a heart attack when I find it.

ETA: When it does turn up, I'll take a photo for yous, here. It is fecking terrifying.

Here's you walking into a room full of Son's objects -

:fetish:
 
LOL. Totally my favourite emoticon here.

And yes - even though another slightly tidier son is in there, that room is still a bit of a no go zone.

Must admit to owning a certain amount a bloody house full of artistic clutter myself.
 
Here's you walking into a room full of Son's objects -

:fetish:
LOL. Totally my favourite emoticon here.

And yes - even though another slightly tidier son is in there, that room is still a bit of a no go zone.
Must admit to owning a certain amount a bloody house full of artistic clutter myself.
You never know when a dead bat might come in handy.
 
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