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| After the recent horrific heat, now we have charcoal skies, strong breezes and monsoon rain. All hail the English summer…!
So who’s been watching Torchwood? The longer story format works well, I think; better than the one story per episode format, as the plot is much more rounded. I prefer Torchwood to Dr Who--not that with our resident Dr Who fan I don’t end up watching both. Usually, anyway.
I’ve been reading Laurell K Hamilton’s Skin Trade, and there’s only one thing wrong with it--I’ve got stacks of work to do and I keep thinking about what’s happening in that instead. No, seriously, it’s an excellent detective story. The prose is tight and the plot fast-paced, and so far (¾ through the novel) Anita’s kept her knickers on. No doubt they’ll fly off at some point. However, the emphasis of this novel is firmly on hunting down the bad guys. A great read.
I was chatting with someone recently--no names to be mentioned--and she was complaining about the amount of fan art which her novels have inspired. In her shoes, I’d be thrilled to bits! If my characters inspired anyone to create drawings or paintings, I’d be so flattered…!
Soooo…. Now it’s the countdown to Parallel Dimensions, which takes place this coming Saturday (July 11th, 2.30pm, West Kirby Library, Wirral). A couple of trusty volunteers have been plastering MySpace(s) with the poster. So if your page there has been swamped with ‘em, this will be why--*evil chuckles*!!! They’ve also been sending out press releases to every fantasy and sci-fi mag Google can summon, plus local press, TV and radio stations. Thanks go to Taliesin and Kate for their hard work. | |
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| 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't there always a broken bit or an "it-doesn't-quite-fit" issue to overcome? Tools and books share similar principles, in that the greater part of these collections is rarely used, gathers dust and yet inspires a reluctance in the owner to be free of them in case they "come in handy." That aeons may pass by without any urgent need for a specific item seems irrelvant to the owner, who bedrugingly shovels cobwebs aside during occasional forages into forgotten corners of crumbling boxes on sagging garage shelves. Such forages usually end in disappointment, as the retrieved tool or book is never quite right for the job anyway, and tends to result in the purchase of something new which, used once and only once, is then relegated to the pile, never to be touched again. | |
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| 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 by Patrick Rothfuss, which took me a little effort to get interested in as the opening scenes are set in a tavern, and pubs hold no attraction for me. However, once over that little hurdle, I soon found myself hooked by this tale of how a young boy from a travelling troupe of entertainers worked his way towards becoming a man of legend and infamy. When the troupe is slaughtered, he’s left to survive on his wits until he figures out a way to enter the university. He soon learns that life in the highbrow world of academia can be just as dangerous as life on the streets. A very good read; entertaining, thoughtful and well-crafted. I have every intention of reading Volume Two.
My niece, Cat, will have three teeth removed today. Ouch.
Richard got the results of his blood test yesterday. His blood sugar is a cause for concern, and also his kidneys don’t seem to be functioning as well as they should be. The doctor expressed concern about his weight, too. All that will be done for now is that Richard will have another blood test in three months time to evaluate any changes. | |
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| It was almost impossible to see where I was walking in the woods today due to the dazzling light. I should have worn sun glasses! The breezes drifting up from the calm ocean had an icy edge, and I suspect that tonight the temperature will plummet. The chill hadn't prevented half the local population from heading out for a walk, though. Perhaps they too were escaping from the dismal TV.
The dogs love the woods, of course; there's a whole world of scent which is closed to human noses. Ygraine investigated a small puddle and discovered it was deeper than she'd anticipated. A lot deeper.
I've just finished reading David Hunt's The Magician's Tale, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Crime isn't my usual genre, but I found myself eagerly turning the pages of this well-written tale of a photojournalist who is gathering material for a project about male prostitutes in San Francisco. When her favourite model is murdered, the protagonist sets out to solve the crime.
Monday's meeting of Riverside Writers had a modest turn-out. One of our regular members had to work late (they're in retail), and another was holidaying in Bavaria. Even so, the meeting went well and certainly we had a good ol' giggle. Those who had participated in the monthly writing project read out their efforts, and a couple of people read from other works-in-progress. Once again the subject of producing an anthology of group work was raised. It's a possible self-publishing project for the coming year. | |
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| When my old computer died, it took several chapters of Tamsin with it; chapters which I'd already edited so this means I had to do them again. I'd prefer not to have to repeat work but sometimes you just have to get on with a job! I've now finished the tenth, which brings me back up-to-date.
I also lost a Fantasy story which I'd been working on for two weeks already, and which also meant I missed the submission deadline for the anthology I was aiming it towards. I like the story, Turning Tides, which was about the annihilation of Druids on Anglesey, so I will re-write it ASAP and aim it at a magazine.
Richard had one of his many migraines yesterday. He suffers from them a lot. So, he spent most of yesterday morning in bed. Emily kept him company, not being one to willingly forego a warm spot. Later he took the dogs out for a walk, and Emily arrived home with the collar of her woolly coat half hanging off. Truely she hates the thing!
I've been reading a strange little tale by Andrzej Sapkowski called The Last Wish, which draws on popular folk and fairy tales while adding an individualistic slant of the author's own. An unusual novel, certainly.
Richard and I went to a performance of Sleeping Beauty staged by the English National Ballet. I've lost count of how many times I've seen this ballet, but I was able to watch some dancers whose work is new to me--such as Asta Bazevicute as Princess Aurora, and James Forbat who was very good as Prince Desire.
I was sitting next to a lady in her 50's who'd come to the ballet on her own as none of her friends like it. She had wanted to be a ballet dancer as a child but her mother had made her have piano lessons instead. Now she does Arabian dance, purely for fun, which totally scandalises her mother. Good for her!! | |
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| List of all writers on LiveJournal:- http://domynoe.livejournal.com/80319.html If you're a writer, editor, agent etc., (and have an LJ blog), you should be on this list. No writing done today; the sunshine coaxed me to tackle some of the wildly overgrown shrubs and roses in the back garden. My dogs helped. Mostly this meant them running off with the pruned branches I'd put in a tidy pile, which means our patio is now sprinkled with mangled twigs. I'd brush up but the brush-head fell off the pole. Again. Besides, it was time for a cuppa. Have you read anything by Paolo Coelho? I've just finished The Witch of Portobello, which was entertaining. I liked the way the novel had been structured so that Athena's story was told by all the people around her but not by Athena herself. I'm now half-way through reading a strange novel called Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist, which Richard picked up for me. The story is set on a Swedish sink estate, and revolves around two children and their neighbours. I don't usually bother with novels or films which dwell on poverty; the subject is only romantic to those who've never been hungry for real. This tale has kept my interest, however, if only because I want to see how the plot plays out. | |
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| Despite this morning’s torrential downpour, I headed into the village to attend to some business and browse the sales. All I wanted was a new black blouse, an evening-type style. I came back with two books, which is entirely typical of me. I always was the world’s most hopeless clothes shopper. I need a pet Gok.
Anyway, as I’ve put Bethany Rose on hold while I contemplate the shredder, I’ve been busy editing Tamsin, which I’ve not even looked at for a while. So far I’ve edited up to chapter 7. This is the last time I’ll edit this MS, unless a publisher wants a specific change. Otherwise I’ll be tweaking for the sake of tweaking.
Richard and I have begun watching a series called Blood Ties starring Christina Cox, Kyle Schmid and Dylan Neal. It’s based on books by Tanya Huff, and the two episodes we’ve seen have been enjoyable. Richard said he much prefers it to Buffy as it’s far more adult and gritty, and the characters seem more believable.
Lately, he’s been working his way through a Marx Brothers boxed set of films, and last night he watched an ancient Buster Keaton silent film while I finished reading a biography of a rather interesting fellow—lion trainer, bar-room pianist, author and independent thinker (and doer).
And I’ve done a bit more to the oil portrait which I’ve been working on for a while, too. There’s not much more to do to it now—a few almost-transparent pale touches on the skin, and that’s all. | |
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| ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) hazeldixon, xfangs_upx and xneed_coffeex - in plain language, my sister and her two daughters - met by chance in IM last night. We had fun playing with the emoticons, and I related the tale of the tail – Saffron’s tail, actually, which I managed to grab hold of just in time to prevent the little darling snaked her way off up the newly-opened chimney. The cat was not pleased. But a grumpy cat is easier to contend with than a huge bill from the Fire Brigade for rescuing the daft moggy. Yes, we now have a new fire, hearth and surround. We also have an unexpected heatwave, so relishing the former will have to wait until the latter has subsided. Maybe autumn sometime. Ah well, I always was one for forward planning. Over the weekend we watched Sommersby, which we both enjoyed. So was he her hubby or wasn’t he? Richard says he was; I’m not so sure. The Gere hubby’s feet were two sizes smaller than the original hubby. Women notice such things, despite rumours to the contrary. One thing I was sure of was that the heroine’s pregnancy must surely have been the fastest in all human history. The tobacco crop hadn’t grown an inch taller from when the pregnancy was anounced to when the baby arrived, never mind having ripened and been harvested already. Actually, Jodie Foster is one of my favourite actresses. I can’t think of a single film she’s acted in which I haven’t enjoyed. Also fun was Lonely werewolf Girl, a quirky novel by Martin Millar. Think of the Borgias as werewolves, set in contemporary Scotland and London, with despairing fashion designers, dream-sodden amateur musicians, grumpy teenagers, temperamental volcano goddesses and megalomaniacs with dodgy love lives, all thrown together in a scramble to survive a fight for the family’s seat of power. How could that possibly fail to entertain?!! Meanwhile, my own scribblings proceed. Rowan now stands at 92,000 words. This means in theory I have 8,000 words left to finish off the story. It might overrun this a bit, but I’m sure that will change during the editing process. That’s inevitable, no doubt. | |
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| February’s newsletter has now been mailed out to everyone, and earlier today I wrote chapter 51 of Rowan.
Oh, if you wish to receive the newsletter, just send an email to:- adelecosgrovebray-subscribe@yahoogroups.com It’s one of those automated thingies.
Have you seen Atonement? We watched it last night. It’s an excellent film with some outstanding acting, and also a very clever storyline. The ending is not at all predictable. The languid beginning of the film reminded me of Brideshead Revisited - which is an old favourite of mine both as a novel and as in TV serial form - but this impression changed as the story moved on.
I’ve just finished reading a fascinating novel by Marcus Zusak called The Book Thief, which is narrated by Death. The story is set in Germany just prior to and during World War II, and follows a young girl’s experiences with her adoptive family, her best friend Rudy, and her minor career as a thief. It’s one of those stories which could be for adults or children equally. At first, as I began reading it, I wondered if the experimental style might get in the way of the story but this was not the case, and the illustrated hand-written story section adds atmosphere to this quirky, almost whimsical tale. A most unusual novel; I recommend it. | |
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| 90 mph gales and flurries of hail-stones encouraged me to curl up with the book I’m reading now, which is about a gang of feral cats who live in a forest shared with three other gangs. Ok, they’re children’s books and I’m old enough to be reading them to kids of my own (not that I have any, if you discount the furry four-footed sort). But who cares? They’re fun! The author, Erin Hunter, is the pen name of two writers who have a website at: http://www.warriorcats.com which is a cuuuuuuuute website!!!! For reasons known only to herself, Emily has lifted all of her toys from the toy box and carried them to the patio doors in the other room. At the moment, she’s busily trying to make a nest of toys and curtain. So what’s new, hmm? Our lawns had their first mow of the year – which only highlighted the poor state of the front lawns. On either side of the path, there are two half-moons of lawn. These have become clogged with moss which has killed off most of the grass. I suspect it might be easier to simply dig them over and start afresh with new grass seed! The storm has flattened nearly all my daffodils. I’d been planning to take a photo of the daffs poking through the round shrub (of uncertain species) by the front door but now that idea will have to wait till next year. It serves me right for procrastinating! My excuse is that I was waiting for the right light. Richard recently bought a little record player which fits onto a modern music system without the fuss of having to buy extra amplifiers or other electronic gadgets. This one just plugs in. So he’s been up in the attic, battling with cobwebs and crumbling insulation to fish out various records which he hasn’t already got on CD. It wasn’t so long ago that we decided to store them up there to save space! Now half of them are back in his den again…. Mostly, I’ve been busy with my writing – but I don’t want to bore you all with minutiae about that! Have any of you watched the new series of Castaway? Personally I shall happily cast it away. Think Big Brother (yawn!!!) set on a New Zealand island - or in other words, one long round of petty griping and petulant squabbles. I won't be watching any more. Now, the first Castaway was a quite different kettle of fish; though even then the programme editing focussed too heavily on conflict when it was obvious that a lot of other, constructive things had been happening around the Hebridean island of Taransay. Here, a group of disparate individuals, couples and their children lived on a remote island for a year, creating a community, living off the land, building their own homes, learning how to live together etc. It was something I would have loved to have been involved with just for the experience. I wish they'd do a 'What Are They Doing Now' programme, to hear how they feel about the experience now, seven years later. | |
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| Email scam (with original spellings & grammar):
“Dear Friend,
"Compliment of the day and how is life general with you? Of course it is my humble wish to solicit and crave your indulgence to make this project request for a joint business transaction which I hope will not come to you as a surprise, hence I plead for your pardon.
"I am Mr ----------, the Auditing and Accounting Unit,Foreign Operations Department Union Bank Of Nig, PLC. I have an urgent and confidential business proposal for you.On June 6, 1999, an Australlian oil consultant/contractor with via National Petroleum cooperation (NNPC) Late Engr. Steve Moore made a numbered time (fixed) deposit for twelve calenderer month valued at US$15.500.000.00(Fiften Million Five Hundred Thousand US Dollars) in my branch.
"On maturity, I sent a routine notification to his forwarded address but got no reply after months we send a reminder and finally we discovered from his contract employee that Late Engr.Steve Moore died from an automobile accident….”
Fatal driving accidents seem to a routine hazard for my previously-unheard-of African relatives. Maybe it’s a family curse. Maybe they all should just sell their cars and get the bus?
Or maybe they should do as a particularly dedicated and rather courageous group of men do, and become Carthusian monks. Not only would they never need drive anywhere again but, indeed, they’d hardly set foot outside of their allotted hermitage unless it was to attend church which they're obliged to do several times within every twenty-four hour period. They pray before church and again afterwards, fasting regularly and enduring mostly solitary and silent lives dedicated to letting nothing stand between themselves and their desire to know their deity.
This extraordinarily challenging lifestyle is described in detail by Nancy Klein MaGuire in her biographical book An Infinity of Little Hours, which follows the progress of novices as they pass through five years of preparation towards taking their final vows. Their struggles make for enthralling reading as one by one they reach breaking point. Poor Dom Damien was reduced to such an appalling physical and mental condition that his own father had to collect him to take him home. Others developed medical and psychiatric problems. Another simply climbed over the monastery wall and fled. Yet despite every hardship and seemingly insurmountable inner hurdle, even those who returned to a secular life say they highly value their experiences at Parkminster.
A fascinating book, certainly, and eminently readable.
This week’s Raspberry Award goes to Lee, who lent us what he claimed to be a wonderful film. Well, the first three-quarters of it was rather amusing. The last quarter, however, was conspicuous by its absence. One minute we were in a cobweb-coated gothic castle while being attacked by a bat-on-a-string, the next we were watching Hugh Heffner. | |
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| http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A2DNNDE101KE2X/ref=cm_pdp_profile_changeview/002-3420909-2765666?viewAs=Public&Go.x=9&Go.y=3The above link thingy will carry you off to my Amazon Books page. If any of you have a page there, feel free to link in. Here's a big thanks to Starr and Corvis Nocturnum for quickly contributing their part of Amazon's Validation process, which enabled Dark of the Night: An Anthology of Shadows to appear in my bibliography there. Last night we watched Leonardo di Caprio give an utterly convincing performance in What's Eating Gilbert Grape. Johnny Depp's role as the overburdened elder brother Gilbert was good, too - but di Caprio excelled himself, I think. The film tells the story of the Grape family, whose house floor is slowly collapsing under the weight of their gargantuan mother. Life seems set to unfurl as an endless dull routine interspersed with sibling squabbling until a free-spirited travelling girl and her grandmother arrive in town. We also enjoyed a 2004 re-make of Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot, which starred Rob Lowe as the writer who returns to his hometown. Rutger Hauer plays chief baddy vampire, with a fuffy-haired Donald Sutherland as his antique-dealing sidekick. The pace is much snappier than in the previous film version, and the script has been tweaked to bring social references up-to-date. With a town whose sewers are crawling with scary folk, guess who jumped when two slices of toast shot out of a toaster? He nearly broke a rib laughing at me. Humph! | |
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| You went trick or treating as  FaceLoran.
 Menkaure gave you ALemonDrop. 
 Yossarian gave you AnApple.
 LucyWestenra gave you TheMirrorOfErised.
 KingArthur gave you TheSignOfIron.
You had a pleasing time until MarilynMonroe  Opened the lid and shook his fist, and said 'Whatever happened to my Transylvania Twist?'.
What's Your Trick-or-Treat Haul?
Shiver My Timber--A Pirate RPGI was back at the doctor's yesterday. He says the bronchial infection has cleared now, thank goodness, but as I am still having a few problems I've been given a second Ventolin inhaler. He says the continuing coughing is probably due to the lingering effects of the infection. Anyway, my energy levels are steadily returning to normal at last. We went shopping in Birkenhead yesterday, and I bought absolutely nothing! *chuckles* He bought an old Western on DVD which had Paul Newman in the role of Bill Hickcock, running a cowboys and indians circus with a completely silent Chief Sitting Bull. I didn't pay much attention to it as I was reading Chelsea Quinn Yarbro's Time of the Fourth Horseman, a sci-fi medical story about the deliberate introduction of disease to cull the exploding human population. So, today we have wind, rain - and Hallowe'en! However you celebrate this ancient Celtic festival of the dead, enjoy yourselves. | |
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| I’m still coughing and struggling to breathe, despite having completed the course of prescribed tablets. A return visit to the doctor may well be in order… This bronchial infection saps so much energy.
The good news is that I’ve been making steady progress with my editorial red pen, which means I’m now at the half-way point with Tamsin. I have been reading through the MS and editing in long-hand. Once that’s done, then I’ll read through it again and make changes on the computer then re-print the MS. In effect, that should be two re-writes for the price of one.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha. I haven’t seen the film yet, though my beloved picked it up cheaply on DVD earlier this week. The novel is a page-turner, certainly, and portrays a way of life about which I know almost nothing. Japanese culture as whole is unfamiliar to me, though I’ve a real liking for some of their traditional ink and water landscape paintings, such as those by Sesshu, Sesson and Shubon. I first encountered those well over a decade ago at an exhibition of Oriental art staged in Windermere.
The weather has acquired a distinctly autumnal edge at last! The quality of light today is lovely; the curly leaves of the contorted hazel tree have bright highlights of pale yellow-green set against sage and brown shadows. Don’t you just love this time of the year, with its changing colours and swiftly-shifting moods? | |
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| The temporary incapacitation caused by this pesky bronchial pneumonia has allowed me to indulge in a prolonged bout of reading. I highly recommend an exceptionally well-written first novel by Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner, both as a pleasurably bitter-sweet tale and as a seemingly balanced insight into recent Afghan life.
I’ve also been reading through bathroom catalogues. Simply, we want a new one. Edit that: we need a new one. This is not a job I’m anticipating with joy because of the upheaval entailed. I’ll begin chasing quotes when I can talk on the phone without collapsing into fits of coughing. (Note blatant ruse for sympathy.) But for now I’ve been perusing glamorous bathroom layouts galore, oodles of tap designs and gazillion styles of tiles, shower heads and bath shapes, etc. I half fancy one of those spa baths but am unconvinced of their true value, considering that pretty well everything seems manufactured to have as short a lifespan as possible these-days.
Aren’t you tired of buying mechanical/electrical goods which break down after two or three years, if they last even that long? - Index:books, diy, health
- Emotion:cough cough cough
 - Audio:"Splutter Cough", by Ol' Gaspy.
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| Take a look at this site – historical dolls as you’ve surely never seen them before:- http://www.headlesshistoricals.com/ Conversation with a neighbour’s five-year-old:Boy: Is your dad a pirate? Me: My father? Boy: That man who lives there… ( points to our house) …Is he a pirate? Me: No – whatever gives you that idea? Boy: We call him Pirate Man. Me: Why? ( trying not to laugh) Boy: ‘Cause he looks like Captain Hook. Reading Living to Tell the Tale, it was heartening to see Gabriel Garcia Marquez state, at the end of chapter two, that “the first royalties that allowed me to live on my stories and novels were paid to me when I was in my forties, after I had published four books with the most abject earnings.” So many successful writers have similar tales. Most seem to plod away for years, getting sporadic pieces published here and there, until it’s as if they’ve undergone some kind of metamorphosis, like a moth struggling out of a chrysalis formed out of scavenged ideas. Ygraine enjoyed our walk on the beach this morning, which was unusually crowded for a week-day. By “crowded” I mean there were around ten people spread over a two-mile stretch. There were no puddles for paws to enjoy, but there was a healthy line of fresh seaweed along the tide-line which warranted numerous inquisitive sniffs and so our little lady was satisfied. It’s an old friend’s birthday in a few short days. I find myself missing his “baroque prose”, but more so simply his company. | |
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| 1. Grab the nearest book. 2. Open the book to page 123. 3. Find the fifth sentence. 4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your LJ along with these instructions. 5. Tag five people. ( Actually, I won’t tag anyone; just help yourselves if you wish to join in.) Oh dear, is this quiz doing the rounds again? Ah, well, here we go:- ( Read more... )I’ve been rather distracted in the evenings by our methodical viewing of Survivors, which was a BBC production filmed at the height of the Cold War. The three series cover events following a virus outbreak which kills most of the world’s population. Everything which Western people take for granted – fuel, fresh food, hospitals, law, relative safety, running water – has all been swept aside. Survivors poses many very pertinent questions which are just as valid today. After all, how many of us have put a splint on a broken leg, grown our own crops (and I don’t mean just a few herbs or tomatoes!), made our own soap, smelted ore to repair farm tools, fought to the death to protect food and property and your loved ones? It’s a fascinating, intelligent and well-written series, and I recommend it. Certainly it will get you thinking about “what if…” scenarios. The photos which I’d hoped would provide something suitable for the forthcoming Dark Moon Press anthology turned out to be a total disaster. Surely I can do better myself! In fact, if I get time over the next few days this is exactly what I intend to try. | |
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|  summer garden 2006
Originally uploaded by __Adele__.The arching crimson spikes of Crocosmia lucifer tower over a rambling pale pink patio rose in one corner of our garden. Look how scorched our lawn has become! Everyone’s lawns are in a similar poor condition due to this unrelenting heat. We’ve had 115 degrees F twice here, which is most unusual for England.
My brother told me an amusing heatwave story in an email:-. ”Went into town yesterday mid-morning. Saw lots of people looking over the parapet of the Mersey Bridge at Bridgefoot, and coming up smiling. So had a look myself when I got there. In the water are a load of square-ish building stones that have been there for years, and at low tide they are barely awash. Every one had a pigeon sitting on it, some up to their necks in the lovely cool water!”
My mother has visited my father three times this week. For the few moments that he was awake he seemed not to recognise her, which is frequently the case now. She’s already upset as her brother, John McGowan, died on Tuesday (July 25th) after a long battle with cancer.
The McGowan family certainly has a long history, as I mentioned in this post:- http://adele-cb.livejournal.com/4053.html Therefore I was most interested to learn of Kathleen McGowan’s book, The Expected One, the first in a partially-fictional trilogy which allegedly claims to trace the author’s lineage back to Mary Magdalene. Mary is believed by some to have carried the Dragon bloodline of the Anunnaki. I would very much like to see her genealogical research, to compare her family tree to my own. Take a look at the author’s website, if you wish:- http://www.emeraldtablets.com | |
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| An interesting article here:- http://www.etherzone.com/2006/mako061906.shtml claims that World War I was deliberately extended for three years in order to ensure the financial collapse of the Russian, Ottoman, German and Austro-Hungarian Empires. The article concludes, “It takes courage and lucidity to understand we are on the receiving end of a diabolical long-term conspiracy to enslave humanity.”
Apparently, My Space is to tighten its age restrictions, according to:- http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2006/06/21/tech/main1736549.shtml I’m totally for this move, though I’m unsure how they’re actually going to check that any person using their site hasn’t simply lied about their age. The same observation could be laid at the door of any website, surely. On my profile there, as here on LJ, I’ve got a little notice announcing an age restriction of 18+ but the implementation is largely based on trust.
I also think that if parents are really worried about potential internet dangers, they should simply stop using the internet as a cheap babysitter/entertainer and pay more attention to their child’s activities. There are several programs available which can easily install filters preventing access to unwelcome material. A decent firewall and pop-up blocker fixes the rest, surely. At least, I’ve experienced no problems from the much-publicised flood of “weirdo’s” reputedly clogging the net. In fact, I’ve yet to encounter a single one. Maybe I’ve just been fortunate.
A quick change of subject before I get some more work done: I received a lovely surprise in the mail this morning! A thick padded envelope arrived, containing Treasury of Tree Lore by Josephine Addison and Cherry Hillhouse, with a small note from my old friend Gisela. She’s frantically packing, ready for a house move, and came across this book and thought I might like it. What a lovely thing to do! That is so sweet of her! - Index:books, pests
- Emotion:busy
 - Audio:nextdoor's lawnmower
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| This afternoon I wrote the first draft of Swap, a 1,500-word story which has been floating around in my mind as a vague idea for around two years. This piece fits in neatly with a set of stories which are loosely linked by location and theme (dark fantasy/local history). Eventually I’d like to collate these stories into book-form, and maybe add some photography of the sites used in the stories.
For me, writing short stories offers me an enjoyable break from grinding my teeth over the penultimate chapter of Tamsin which is proving to be something of an uphill struggle. Or maybe I just allow myself to be distracted too easily. But I really did need to go to Birkenhead this week so buy new net curtains. Really, I did. The old ones were vile in the extreme, I assure you. And I bought three books, too. It will be a while before I read them, though, as I’ve only just begun a lengthy biography, Margot Fonteyn by Meredith Daneman.
I don’t believe I mentioned my battles with the power-hose this week. What a pity it conked out half way through the task. Now our drive has a definite “before” and “after” look. Also, the instruction booklet omits to mention that the spray-back carries rather a lot of dirt with it. Anyone using the appliance rapidly acquires the appearance of an animated mud pie. Need I add that I speak from experience?
There, see how easy it is for me to get distracted from my original intention? I was supposed to be writing about how my collection of short fiction parallels the proposed series of novels. I intend to write some short fiction featuring some of the characters in the novels. What I need is more hours in the day to get everything done. So how do you stretch time? | |
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