You'd think that planning a small family get-together would be easy.  Most of us don't live in the same areas and we all have busy schedules.  Some are available some days but not on others, and each person's timetable has little correspondence to anyone else's.  Consequently I'm still trying to get people to settle on a meeting date, even.  Our get-together celebrates two forthcoming birthdays - Mum's 83rd and Vikkey's 25th - and also the news that Vikkey and Peter are expecting their first child.  Just don't address me as Great-Aunt Adele.  I have no objection to being ancient, (or, more accurately, ageless), being the dyed-in-the-wool Immortalist that I am.  It's just that it doesn't seem too long ago since little Victoria was gurgling happily while daubing paints and obsessing about Roland Rat.   His name was her first words - though she said something more like 'Woland Wat', and would squeal with delight whenever his maniacal grey

"Dementia needs the same type of concentrated research as was put into tackling HIV in the 1980s, Sir Terry Pratchett claimed yesterday.  The author said despite the large number of sufferers, the world 'does not take much notice' because it was a series of 'small tragedies' played out behind closed doors. Dr Donald Mowat, a researcher at Aberdeen University and co-ordinator for Alzheimer’s Research UK’s east central Scotland research network, said, “Dementia is not a normal part of ageing – it is caused by brain diseases we can tackle, but we need more investment in the research that will give us answers.” Source: http://www.pressandjournal.co.uk/Article.aspx/2127563?UserKey = Four years ago, my father died following a long and cruel battle with Parkinson's and Alzheimer's diseases.  Watching the steady disintegration brought about by these and similar diseases, which tend to get bunched together under the umbrella term 'dementia', is an exp

Torrential rain gives me the perfect excuse to stay close to the computer and write more of Fabian , which is coming along smoothly.  With this novel, I'm aiming for a little less dialogue and more direct action.  The feel of the novel is more tense than with the others, but just as dark - but there's little point in my blogging too much about this yet. Meanwhile, in Maison Cosgrove-Bray, we've had some antique furniture delivered.  This meant our downstairs rooms looked akin to a stage set for Steptoe & Son .  Our cats had a marvelous time mountaineering, and seemed convinced that the temporary chaos had been created for their benefit.  Now order has been imposed, some of my pottery collection, which has been in storage for years, is on display where it can be viewed and enjoyed.  Beauty serves no purpose when buried in the back of a cupboard under spare computer cables, incompatible (or more-trouble-than-they're-worth) PC programs, clay modelling tools and an

Chester, yesterday; arrived at via a 'short cut' which actually took us almost an hour longer.  The shops have already plastered themselves in Xmas tat but, despite this thankfully temporary aberration, Chester remains one of my favourite places.  Not that I actually bought much:  one bottle of artist's varnish, and a copy of Carlos Ruiz Zafon's The Angel's Game. Today the house smells of varnish.  Both Portrait of an Anunnaki and  Vlad were long overdue a protective layer of artist's varnish.  I've already warned Richard to wear a gas mask when he comes home.  He should be used to it by now though!  Our home always smells of something - linseed oil, turps, spicy cooking or heady incense.  Or various combinations of these.  Portrait of an Anunnaki: http://hubpages.com/hub/Portrait-of-John Vlad:  http://hubpages.com/hub/Portrait-of-Vlad-Dracula The park is in full autumnal colour now, as I found when the dogs took me for a walk.  I needed a break fr

The mysteries of Ancient Egypt were not part of the conversation over the last two days, but the mysteries of life and death certainly were. While pharaohs built pyramids to ensure the preservation of their physical remains, Mum’s had a ground-floor bathroom and bedroom built to ensure that she will be able to remain in her own house should ill-health strike. She’s 81 and increasingly frail, and worried about any challenges which her future may hold. During the building process, the entire house had swiftly disappeared under a thick veil of gritty grey dust. Mum had already cleaned some of it but was nervous of lifting things off high shelves as she has vertigo. So yesterday my sister Evelyn and I shoed her off to her beloved Ladies Club (so she couldn’t keep “helping”!!) while we blitzed the kitchen. Every single item of kitchenware - plates, cups, casserole dishes, pans, glassware etc. - needed lifting off shelves and out of cupboards, washing, drying - and also the shelf or cu

It’s strange to realise that we’re only eleven days from the summer solstice and yet spring blossom lingers on the trees here. How are you planning to spend the solstice? Do you do anything to celebrate the year’s longest day? Many people assume I’ll be heading off to Stonehenge. They’re wrong. I much prefer to visit such places when I’m the only person around, so that means out-of-season and usually in weather which deters everyone else. I have my reasons. In all truth, I’ve never once been to Stonehenge. When I was a child, my parents tried visiting it but couldn’t find it. I kept insisting they were walking in the wrong direction…. Speaking of amusing visits, much fun was had during a recent weekend break with friends. Topics for discussion were kittens, pregnancy, the whereabouts of food deliveries and the mysteries of the universe - all splendid stuff! Returning home, chaos awaited. Can’t I leave this house for a few days without mayhem erupting?!! The dogs had sulked, t

Hubby swears he never snores, and so I filmed him. He challenged me to upload it to YouTube, and here it is: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3RJ9RA2fk8 Soon after uploading the video, I was contacted by a Brazilian death metal band, Máquina Voadora , who asked if they could use a few clips as part of their forthcoming video to accompany their new acoustic song about sleeping. Richard loved the idea! View Máquina Voadora's video here:- http://vimeo.com/8676341 I have been busy creating more new Hubpages . I've rather taken to that site... Recent additions include interviews with a Druid, a green witch, and artist Pixie Wildflower , plus articles on writing, kombucha, cryonics, reincarnation, the minor arcana and Welsh rarebit - among other topics. Browse my Hubpages: http://hubpages.com/profile/AdeleCosgroveBray   Parallel Dimensions , the Fantasy and Science-Fiction event which I organised last June for Hadley Rille Books ' authors, has been invited to retur

Work on Bethany Rose has kept me busy, as I’m on the last three or four thousand words now. The total word count will run over my intended 100,000 words but as I’ve already decided to delete one minor character completely that’s not an issue. This is only the first draft, of course; there’s a lot of work to be done yet, editing and polishing. Some people balk at this aspect of writing but I thoroughly enjoy it. I’ve enjoyed writing Bethany’s story. Her character’s an interesting mixture of contradictions; sensitive but strong, creative but practical, and incredibly brave in the face of awful circumstances. She’s a very different person from Tamsin, that’s for sure. But I won’t say too much about her publicly for now. I’ve also been enjoying our two chickens. In the spring, Mum began talking about having two pet chickens. She gave it some thought, and by early summer they were in residence in her small garden. Richard laughed and told her we’d have them by Xmas. Well he was right, a

Ah, yes, every rainy Sunday afternoon when I was a child, my father's vinyl record collection would emerge from the gargantuan radiogram - a prized object the size of a sideboard, with a radio and record player built into it. A crackly loudspeaker was at either end, and inside was a slot intended to house the average person’s entire record collection, (probably around twenty LPs at the most.)   So the rain would fall, and the house would smell of the remains of Sunday dinner - a traditional roast, followed by a somewhat solid rice pudding - and rolling out of the prized loudspeakers would come such ‘delights’ as Delaney’s Donkey (as in the YouTube vid above) and Paddy McGuinty’s Goat , the theme music to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang or Paint Your Wagon and, just when it seemed things could not get worse, the dreaded James Last Orchestra. Ah, yes, the trials of youth…

While Richard spent the morning trying to sleep off one of his infamous migraines, I wrote more of Seth’s Basement , my effort for this month’s Riverside Writer’s project which was set on the theme of The Artificial Head. It’s been fun to write, and as far-fetched as my story may seem it’s actually based on a guy who had a similar set-up in his own basement. Truth can be stranger than fiction, for sure; I named one of my fictional mannequins Anton after the real-life character. Riverside Writers’ next meeting is tomorrow night, and we’re going to be joined by editor Maurice James who’ll be giving a talk about the kind of things editors look for in submitted MS.   Maurice runs the annual Coast to Coast writing competition. It’s been raining constantly here today, and both dogs are restless. It’s walkies time and they know they’re going nowhere. If it was just a light shower I’d dress Emily and Ygraine in their little raincoats and off we’d go. At least the fickle English weather

Anyone with an interest in the Adshead, Ashbrook, Bray and McGowan family tree is welcome to visit http://hubpages.com/hub/Four-Branches  where I’ve created a webpage with photos about this. Today we have monsoon rain, which is a pleasant change from living in an oven turned on full. This heat wave has not been fun, and fortunately Ygraine was already booked to be groomed this week. Her coat is so thick and dense that she really suffers during hot spells. She’s much happier today. Actually she’s wrapped round my feet as I type this. She’s pretending to be asleep but she’s waiting for walkies. One move from this chair, and she’ll be spinning in excited circles. When I helped the groomer, Lisa, to he car with her equipment, the door slammed shut. I’d forgotten to put the catch on and so I was locked out. The front room widows were open, and a neighbour--a slender teenager who’s twice my height (ok, that might be a slight exaggeration…) climbed through easily and opened the door for

A pleasant weekend; Cat arrived, limp with a heavy cold but happy that her studies and exams are over for the summer. She carried off some of the books I'd piled up, having had another major clear out of works which I have no desire to read again. Some books can be returned to indefinitely over years, decades even. Others are a once-only experience. I can't see the purpose of storing objects which attract more dust than interest. I'm in the process of making more space in the front bedroom as this is to become "my" room. My office will probably be in there eventually, plus more space for my painting and needlecrafts, plus (more importantly) a dedicated meditation area. I already have ideas for the decor but first I need to find new homes for that "really useful stuff" which all homes collect, like DIY tools and half-empty tins of paint. How many DIY tools are in your home, and how often do you actually use them? And when you come to use them, isn'

Algid skies have enveloped this typically limpid spring Bank Holiday, and Emily has decided to hybernate. Perhaps she is still recouperating after chasing Cat round the garden on Sunday. Emily has adeptly trained my niece in the art of playing tag with a headless rubber duck. Cat has yet to accept that she cannot ever hope to win. Two human feet in competition with four nimble Jack Russell paws haven't a hope in Hades. Ygraine determinedly kept out of it, being perfectly content to snooze under the St John's wort. Only the enticing scents of a roasting chicken, wafting graciously through the open kitchen window, kept her from sliding completely into dreamy oblivion.  And Emily? Well, the photo tells that story.

Plans to tackle some more gardening were halted by today’s incessant soft rain. Instead I finished writing ch. 18 of Bethany Rose then had a book cull. I collect far too many books for the space available. Any non-fiction book that hasn’t been opened for five years might as well be consigned to the category of Outgrown Or Boring. Off to the charity shop with ‘em! We watched a peculiar little film yesterday:   The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes .  Beautifully lit, and very surreal, the film used puppets and/or automatons as well as live actors. Basically, it’s a story of a piano tuner who is taken to an island-based mental asylum to repair a series of automatons. The asylum’s doctor seems to be madder than his patients (or at least that was my impression.) An interesting if rather puzzling film; it’s plot reminded me of something from the Twilight Zone or Tales of the Unexpected. I’ve now finished reading  The Name of the Wind (Kingkiller Chronicles, Day 1)  by Patrick Rothfuss, which

He would have been 80 today.

Richard has the bubonic plague a headcold. 2am saw me padding around the living room, wide awake. Hubby was snoring like a jammed lawnmower, which is not conducive to restful meditations.  So I'd come down here, lit some incense and read for a while. Mum's not feeling too well. She had food poisoning after eating out, followed by a cold, and now her balance has gone haywire again. She's had inner ear infections before, several times that I can remember. Evelyn stayed the first night with her and took her to the doctor's in the morning. When I spoke to her, Mum said she was feeling better but the Stenetil tablets make her very sleepy. Cat is now an official university student! Yaay!!! And she's bought a pet snake named Havok.... Two friends were caught up in the recent airline collapse. Lynn and Lee had only three days left of their Greek island holiday when their hotel manager told them their room had not been paid for. They were given the choice of paying

In reply to those who asked, last weekend’s Circle of Hands gathering was postponed at the last minute. It has been rescheduled for October 29th at the usual time. Tonight, I’ll be running a writers’ workshop on “The Craft of Constructive Criticism”, and so now I’m wondering how many people will turn up. All my notes and the exercises we’ll be doing are ready. If you’re in Wirral, join us at West Kirby Library at 7.30pm. Rain all day here. Richard went out to buy his revolting rice milk, which he uses as a dairy substitute. I think it tastes like watery wallpaper glue—and the one which has been flavoured with hazelnut is vile beyond vile…. Meanwhile, I’ve been pouring over maps of Knoydart and gazing longingly at photos of its forests, craggy glens and mountains. I found the perfect cottage—took one look at it and thought, “Wow! That’s Bethany Rose’s cottage!” Photo prompts are useful to me; so are little sketches. Do you ever get the feeling you’re wasting your breath? Some

When hubby’s saucepan of eggs didn’t come to boil, I saw that the cooker’s power-on indicator light was not working. Further investigation showed there was no heat under the pan, or on the other main ring. So, I called out an electrician who we’ve used before. The electrician arrived and he checked the wall socket, the electricity supply and the cooker’s wiring – all were fine. However, the grill, oven, and two rings on the cooker had no heat. He concluded that the elements had burned out. “All at once?” I asked, sceptical. He shrugged and said it happens sometimes. Richard said his mother’s cooker did something similar once. Anyway, the cooker being five or six years old, the electrician said it would be difficult to find parts for it. Meanwhile, the electrician said it was safe to use the two remaining rings for cooking on. So, the very next day, Richard bought a new cooker. It will be delivered on Thursday this week. On Sunday, I was cooking dinner – and noticed the cooker

Saturday saw me in Manchester, when I met with two friends. When burgers were suggested for lunch I hesitated. Regular readers of my scribblings will know I avoid junk food like the plague. However, my two friends hold similar leanings regards health and aesthetics and they said this restaurant made its own burgers from 100% Aberdeen Angus beef. We just made it before a monsoon drenched the city! http://thatsfoodanddrink.blogspot.com/2007/07/gourmet-burger-kitchen-opens-in.html  offers a fair description of GBK. So, yes, if you’re in Manchester and are feeling hungry, I can recommend the place – pleasant surroundings, reasonably priced and excellent food. The milk shakes were yummy, too. Sunday saw Emily waiting for Cat to arrive. That puppy explodes into happy yipping-yapping when my niece’s arrival makes the front gate squeak. The poor girl can hardly get through the door for our two dogs excitedly greeting her. She was wearing black jeans. Oh dear. When will she learn? Black

“So,” I said to Richard, “what did you cook for yourself on Saturday night while I was away?” We were on our way back from Lime Street Station where he’d kindly come to collect me after my weekend in Manchester. “I got indigestion,” he said. “What from? What did you eat?” “Pilchards and scrambled egg on toast,” he said, “followed by rhubarb pie. And haggis.”