In this photo my son appears to be standing on his ghostly twin, as he peers through the bars of the balcony on our 1981 Corfu holiday.
In 1949 my husband is cuddled by his sister whilst some kindly spirit has bathed them in ethereal light.
In 1963 as I posed with my parents in front of Wordsworth’s Cottage, the ghosts of William and his sister Dorothy seem to be peering out of the bedroom’s leaded window. Fanciful perhaps, and probably just the reflections of the clouds on the small pieces of glass, but who can tell?
In 1968, as we prepared for my grandparents Golden Wedding, my mother appeared to be conjuring something up. Her cousin is trying to waft it away, and I’m pointing in amazement at something which seems to have bitten my ankle. What this picture also conjured up of course, were the memories of our 1960s council house kitchen, and my father’s penchant for painting things orange. It’s a good job you can’t see the wall behind my mother - not ghostly, but ghastly - wallpaper with large orange flowers!
And finally, here’s my own little ghost, knitted for last year’s Hallowe’en decorations. For more ghostly goings-on, float on over to Sepia Saturday; it’s sure to lift your spirits.