I'm quite used to all eerie happenings and things that go bump in the night! It's no surprise when a lightbulb in a bedroom suddenly switches itself on and likewise off again without any satisfactory explanation. Unexplained footsteps up and down the stairs, around the outside of the gable and doors opening without a breeze. My usual cry is to shout, "Come in." Whether they do or not, they seem to bring nothing but a total sense of ease and certainly no fear.
My daughter fully accepts that her light may switch on by itself just in time for bed and that certain items of jewelry mysteriously disappear, then turn up in a completely different place. I have wondered if we had a cheeky but nosey spirit wandering around our home.
It was a usual Wednesday morning. I'd been up and around since dawn. Had taken my daugher to college, waved hubby off to work and 9.30 am was my sit down with a coffee time. With the TV switched on, coffee in hand, I sat down to watch the usual rubbish morning TV has to offer. I flicked the channels over hoping to find something other than some house buying, house renovating or some cheap chat show with a false-tanned irritating presenter and equally irritating guests who could do with a job or something more meaningful than flirting with every Tom, Dick or Harry and having umpteen kids in tow, not knowing who the father is or caring!
I decided that if this was going to be my quality time, the TV was going to be switched to standby and I'd have a moment of solitary peace with no noise. I was in just one of those far off moments when I jumped right out of my skin as I watched in horror the telephone fly off the sideboard and smack into the wall at the opposite side of the room with such force that the reciever smashed and with it my ceramic pig ornament.
"Yikes!" That was a bit strong for a mellow kind of ghost -- did he or she like the TV programme or was the presence trying to agreee with my decision that the TV was rubbish and it was trying to smash the screen? My heart raced with fear realising that this was the first time that I'd felt threatened by our friendly visitor.
I watched in disbelief as the telephone jerked like it was trying to get out through the wall and then finally it stopped. I picked up what was left of the broken receiver and checked if it still worked; of course it didn't and I wasn't in the least bit surprised.
I looked around the room and uttered "Okay you've had your fun -- what was all that about?" I heard a "Honk" and then a fracas and an awful lot of flapping outside. The geese were kicking off again. I went to the window to check that they hadn't got our supernatural being up against the fence and what I saw began to make sense. The gander had a rather long piece of wire in it's beak and was playing tug of war with another goose. My telephone line had been ripped off the wall and the gander had made a break for it, even more infuriating was witnessing the line break and with it my telephone service fell silent.
Of course it affected my broadband service as well, much to the dismay of my daughter who spends the entire evening chatting over the net with her friends.
The geese have not been flavour of the month. It's true my daughter hates them and vice-versa, although she did see the humourous side when the telephone engineer arrived and I had to explain the reason why my line lay snapped on the lawn. It tickled her to hear the engineer's cry for help as the geese gathered around the bottom of his ladder making noises.
No communication for 4 whole days,cut off from the outside world. My day of peace certainly became more than just a moment. Poultrygeest at their best!