Tadpoles in May I'm really pleased with the new solar-powered fountain, which you can see working in the video above.  It's much stronger than the year-old one.  Do solar-powered gadgets have a life-span?  Last year's fountain has taken to emitting occasional squirts of water reaching 4" in height at the most.  I've thoroughly cleaned the filter and panel, and wiggled the wire to see if there's any obvious break, but no joy there.  Meanwhile the pond has begun growing an unpleasant crop of green algae, some of it bubbly, some of it fibrous; hence the new fountain, which shoots jets of water 24" high and should help to increase oxygen levels in the water, which should - in theory, at least - reduce the algae.     Green algae and tadpoles! (Click on the images to view them larger).   An adult frog basks in the pond. On Thursday, I'll be giving a talk at St James's Centre in Birkenhead.  This will be for a cr

City Stories, FREE ebook anthology   Contributors : Tim Hulme William R Jones Caroline Hubbard Andy Siddle Jason Barney Jack Horne Adele Cosgrove-Bray   Here's a preview of the front cover for the forthcoming City Stories ebook anthology, which is currently being proofread with help from Andy Siddle and Tim Hulme.  The photo on the cover depicts part of the Albert Dock in Liverpool, and was taken by my husband Richard, (who's currently trying to mend a broken stand for one of my Tangkou dolls).   Frog pond with pennywort, water soldiers, fairy moss and shy goldfish.   Who'd have guessed that fish have personalities?  To prevent the frog pond from becoming home to a legion of blood-sucking mosquitoes, my brother Eric suggested adding a few goldfish.  Three have been making themselves at home beneath the gradually-spreading canopy of pennywort and fairy moss.  They seem to like snoozing under the water soldiers, and they're particul

I've gone frog mad.   I've now got a bee in my bonnet about making a proper frog pond, as our garden has been invaded by millions of baby frogs.   I tried making a small one yesterday only the DIY plastic liner leaks.   Who'd have guessed that, hmm?   I didn't see any holes in it, so  either I missed the holes or I picked porous plastic.   Oh well, as spontaneous bright ideas go, the principle worked ok even if it failed in practise.   No matter - I've now bought a proper liner and underlay off eBay for about £10, and I've been reading up online about how to build a frog pond properly.   I had visions of having to dig half way to the Earth's core, but apparently 25cms is perfect for the deepest point and gently sloping sides all round are supposed to be best as tadpoles like swimming about in warm shallows. The liner will be longer than the plastic I've used, but that's ok as I can easily lift everything out of the way and re-dig the pond a lit

The dark history of an ancient faerie well is revealed in this short fantasy tale by Adele Cosgrove-Bray, read live on 7 Waves Radio in 2008.

Have you encountered any faeries while wandering the ancient woods and heathery moor of Caldy Hill? While sitting by a dark and peaty pool cradled by mighty oaks and rustling rowans, were you startled by a sudden hush, when all the birds ceased singing and even the restless breezes from the yawning mouth of the Dee fell still? It is just possible that a faerie may have been passing by. I don’t mean the kind of cartoon “fairy” with a sparkly tutu and gossamer wings. They’re just make-believe. I mean the real, ancient kind of faerie; the kind who can enchant with a glance and whose beauty might steal your heart, if not your soul. Did you know that the seals which congregate on Hoyle Bank beyond Hilbre Island have a secret other-life? And do you know the real reason why the sea never returned to Parkgate harbour? Further clarification can be obtained by reading A Wirral Otherkin Trilogy , which was published this week by Amazon. This trio of Dark Fantasy stories consist of Frog

Apparently one of my poems was read aloud on Terry Wogan 's radio show this morning. My sister Evelyn told me this in an email, and I honestly don't know a thing about it. I haven't submitted any work to the BBC. My friend Wendy has just phoned me to say she'd heard it on the car radio around 7.30am. She was on the way to work at the time. A rapid Google search didn't identify any other poet with the same name as myself, however. Then again, it can't yet be presumsed that everyone has internet access. So, I'm still none the wiser. As I write this, the house is in a state of controlled chaos. Screaming drills and stomping workmen’s boots, hammering and sawing herald the arrival of B-Day! That’s Bathroom Day, in case you wondered. Our old and extraordinarily vile bathroom suite is currently sitting on our front lawn awaiting proper disposal. Upstairs, in what truly is the smallest room of the house, various repairs are starting to take place prior to the