I've been having a wierd and wonderful time of it this weekend, telling SPOOKY STORIES at BETTY'S TEAROOM in YORK on Saturday night, followed bu a Sunday of strange tales (for much littler people!) at RHS HARLOW CARR GARDENS in Harrogate.
What with sudden cracking of my glasses when I was research such stories one midnight, and the arranged driver who was mysteriously held up in the mists of the moors, and the fact that my exact coins would not register in the York car park slot even though it accepted other people's coins on Saturday evening, I began to feel that someone - or something? - was trying to give me a message. All together now: "WHERE'S MY HAIRY TOE?"