Am I Alone?

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Anonymous

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I am getting pig sick of knowing that I've got the whatsit I need to do a particular job, and finding that some smarty-pants has been in my workshop and hidden it from where it is supposed to be.

Then I end up buying another whatsit from the DIY store (if it isn't very expensive that is...), and immediately afterwards find the original whatsit because smarty-pants made a return visit in my absence and put it back where it was always supposed to be.

What I've come to learn when I pack my wagon up to go out on a job is to go stand in the middle of the workshop for a couple of minutes, gradually turning 360 degrees and going over the shelves etc. Invariably there is something I have forgotten to load up. Taking out the electric drill without remembering the box of drill bits is veeerrryyyyy frustrating ;)

Grrrr......

Andrew
 
Andrew,

Its caused by folds in the space time continuum. :shock:
The tool you need is just nestling in a different part of time to were you currently are. :?
After the visit to the DIY sore, space has straightened out and you can see the tool again. :x

Whats that tablets on the side, oh didn't I take them. :wink: :roll:
 
<saying nothing about the disappearing / reappearing terminal screwdrivers....

Ahem....
 
u've rulled out the ageing process and rising damp?
I was going to say something else as well but.... :?
 
oldsoke":3hzvhqpe said:
u've rulled out the ageing process and rising damp?
I was going to say something else as well but.... :?

If you were going to take the 'P' then you will be in trouble for incitement to riot ;)

Andrew
 
I'm convinced that ghosts don't haunt graveyards and castles as is commonly believed. Instead, they find a workshop and delight in hiding those little essential gadgets until the woodworker goes out and buys a replacement. Then the ghost makes the gadget reappear just where the woodworker had expected to find it to start with.

Spooky.
 
We were inclined to the ghost theory when we moved into our new house. It really seemed that something would delight in moving things around. Somtimes putting them back into the same place it came from and sometimes hiding them somewhere else. My wife has and old display cabinet with a lock with a key in it. The key one day goes missing. Can't find it anywhere and it's locked. Few days later, we have a new carpet for the living room delivered, so take up the old one. And there in the middle of the room, underneath the underlay underneath the carpet, was the key. :shock: I kid you not.
 
Talking of ghosts, our house had remained empty for a number of years when we bought it. Part of it is timbered and about 300-350 years old. It is situated in the middle of fields, the road is 3/4 mile away down the drive (sounds too grand...mud track more like).

I was spending the first weekend there by myself getting bits ready before the missus came. I'd gone down the local pub for a meal (aka 4 pints) and had settled myself down in a sleeping bag in the middle of an empty bedroom. Pitch black. Utter silenece. No luxury such as a bedisde lamp.

As I lay down to sleep I felt this presence shortly followed by a slithering sliding sound. (This is not a wind-up, honest). Thinking it might be a rat (didn't think of ghosts...or rather did NOT want to think about ghosts)...I slapped the floor hard with my hand. The sliding sound stopped.

I lay there in the utter silence but then a few minutes later, the noise started again. Again, I slapped the floor hard and the noise stopped. I was convinced that it was a rat.

Yup.. couple of minutes later it started again. This time, I coiled myself up near the neck of the sleeping bag, sprung out of it in pitch black half expecting to tread on a pack of rats, legged it to the light switch and turned it on.

There in the corner of the room was a huge bubble of air prisoned underneath the plastic sheet that I had laid onto the floor to keep the bag clean. The sliding noise I'd heard was the sheet slowly sliding across the floor as the air seeped out. By hitting the floor I'd managed to increase the balance in frictions favour momentarily.

After we moved in we did continue to feel something in the house...not malevolent...and it finally went away.
 
Handy Mac,

You are certainly not alone! My workshop is inhabited by a family of Pencil Pixies! The second I put my pencil down, they swipe it and hide it. I used to think that it was just rolling off somewhere on its own, so I bought a pack of carpenters pencil which are oval so they don't roll, but they still teleport around the workshop - hence it must be the Pencil Pixies!

Barry - that story about the key and the carpet is pretty disconcerting!

You are now entering the Twilight Zone Dee dee dee dee dee dee............ :shock:
 
Once attended a neighbor (in her 90's) with my father, she had asked via the village grape vine for someone to help her fix a table draw.

Fully expecting to be presented with a broken draw we found that it was sound but just locked (Small Victorian side table).

When asked when she had last seen the key, hoping to help look for it we were told that it had never been opened in her memory, her mother never had a key.

Having failed to 'pick' the lock we finally managed to slide the bolt with a very thin blade.

In the draw were a quantity of letters still in envelopes and family trinkets, a box of Victorian matches, a quantity of silver sixpences and 2 KEYS that fitted the draw.

EDIT: Just in case anyones interested I dug out a couple of "gifts" I was given for opening the draw.
Envelope--MatchBox front--MatchBox rear
 
I'm with DaveL...
It's caused by folds in the space time continuum
and other vital organs I suspect.

As for taking the peace... as if :roll:
 
frank":13g1jpua said:
yes but why is it allways in the last place you looked ???
Well, because you don't tend to carry on looking once you've found it, of course! :wink:
 
Taffy Turner said:
Handy Mac,

Barry - that story about the key and the carpet is pretty disconcerting!

quote]

Did give me a bit of a strange feeling at the time. I won't go into how many times we'd hear footsteps upstairs when we were all downstairs. :shock:
There was never any feeling of malice though and things do seem to have settled down now so guess whoever we were sharing the house with has either moved on or is happy with us. But with two more sprogs now, we probably drove it out. :?

There again, all my saftey glasses do seem to have vanished. :?
 
Pencil Pixies. Now you are on the right trail - I am certain I have a hidden force at work in my workshop because the pencils all end up in one place where I'm sure I would never choose to collect them. And I think the pixies must have an appetite for charcoal because every darn one is always blunt when I do find it.

Those same pixies clearly have a fondness for my expanding tape measures. I had to buy 6 before I satisfied their love for the darn things, and the only way I've managed to satisfy them is to keep a tape measure permanently in my jacket pocket. For some reason that seems to be off-limits to the pixies (the other tape measures still move around with gay abandon though).

It's a real pity these pixies can't be trained to take an interest in sawdust. Now if that conveniently piled itself up into a neat mound hidden out of the way I'd be real happy. Maybe I should find a use for sawdust, that way the pixies might take an interest.....

Andrew
 
This is like washing socks - no matter how careful you are when putting pairs of socks into the washing machine, there will always be one odd sock left over when you take them out.

My workshop eats electrical connectors, but only the US variety I use on my 110V circuit. I buy a box of them every time I go to the US and when I get back I put them in the cupboard marked 'Electrical'. Next time I need one they have always disappeared.
 
I'll post no comment 'cos I will get my wrists slapped. Please don't antagonise me with comments about electricity..... :twisted:

Andrew
 
Brian,

What is that with socks and washing. I am baffled, are you sitting at the kitchen table with the wife sorting socks :lol:
 
Pencils and socks are like biro's. They are really just small intergalatic space craft, whose only purpose in existing is to return to the planet biro.
The ink is the fuel for the propulsion system, thats why they always dissapear before you empty one.

Simple eh


Bean

back on the drugs :roll:
 
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