I’m still running around ‘catching up’ and Bessie is poorly today, high temperature, listless and clingy. Add to that my T Mobile dongle is just not wanting to check out Tesco direct for me it’s been a pretty frustrating morning but I have downloaded the photos of our birthday trip to Cornwall and there are some beauties I’m really proud of, I’m very tempted to make a book of them immediately otherwise they just stay on the PC never to be seen again so in the meantime I made a pretty collage that sums up our recent short break to the beautiful region of Cornwall in the South West of England.

You may have noticed I took a photo of the Museum of Witchcraft which can be found in Boscastle on the Atlantic coast not far from Tintagel rumoured to be the home of King Arthur. I stood outside and giggled at the ‘broomstick’ holder for visiting witches, I couldn’t visit the museum as the girls were getting tired and Paul had walked them down to the water’s edge to throw stones whilst I managed to get a few snaps but I couldn’t resist popping my head through the door and Lo and Behold I discovered a tiny shop around the entrance.

I ADORE MUSEUM SHOPS.

In actual fact I love any shop so I ran my eyes over the tiny selection of merchandise and instantly spotted Spell Candles! Only 25p each and a selection of colours to choose from depending which spell you wished to cast. Hallelujah, I read the meanings of each colour and opted for a blue candle for spirituality and wisdom and purple for success and financial prosperity. I paid my dues to the long grey haired man at the desk who was a wizard in civilian clothes and made my merry way back to my family happy that I had some witches’ spells to cast.

It wasn’t til the early hours of the morning when I was woken by a strange noise that I hadn’t heard the previous nights (I’m a very light sleeper) It was like a metal on metal noise, just a tiny screech that you really had to listen hard for. ‘Ghosts in chains’ my over imaginative brain told me very matter of factly. ‘Oh shut up and go to sleep’ I retorted, thinking ‘Pathetic idea’ and then there it was again and yes it did sould like metal on metal. I wonder if someone’s trying to break in?

I got out of bed and peeped behind the edge of the curtain so if we were being broken into at least my burglars wouldn’t spot me spying on them. Of course there was no one just a silent field of hay behind us, some trees and well, nothing else.

I jumped back into bed and snuggled up to my man for courage more than warmth. Screech! and there it was again. The hair on the back of my neck started to prickle and I could feel my heart booming in my chest. I thought back to the afternoon when we’d stopped to get the girls an ice cream in a cafe, the old woman serving us had been ugly – ugly in a witch like manner – and I had that thought when I saw her.

Had she tapped into my mind and was she coming back to get me for being so rude? I thought of my candles lying in their little brown paper bag ready to be burned and gulped.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t use them? Maybe I should throw them away? Maybe I’m meddling in something I have absolutely no knowledge about.

My thoughts started down this scary route and there was no stopping them. OH turned over in his sleep and opened one eye wondering what the hell I was up to.

‘I can hear noises!’ my voice giving away a tremor of worry.

‘Umph.’ or something similar. He wasn’t impressed at all but luckily for me just at that very moment a bang but as he pointed out it was clearly one of the girls turning in their beds and banging the side of their room.

It was quite obvious I would have to save my family from any wizardry or black magic On My Own as he was already back to sleep.

I tossed and turned. I fretted and worked myself up into such a state. I made the sign of the cross – Twice!

And then I must have fallen asleep as I woke to birdsong, sunny skies and the girls chattering next door but what a night! What a fight! I still have my candles to light but I’m still not sure whether I will or not. Shall I throw them or burn them?

rick stein padstow cornwall