Ruins of the Norman church around St John the Baptist's Church, Chester.


Masonic stained glass window in St John the Baptist's Church, Chester. If you've read The Hiram Key... Other Masonic symbols can also be seen around the building.


Trapezoidal dais for a small alter in St John the Baptist's Church, Chester. A powerful ley line runs through this ancient site, which sits on the banks of the River Dee.

If you wish to view more photos of the same place, simply click on any of the above images, and look through the 'Local Travels' file on my Flickr site.

Chester was lovely on Monday. We lunched at The Coach House then meandered round the shops, stopping to watch a man playing the violin whilst balancing on one leg on a trapeze wire.

I replenished my supply of frankincense and myrrh, and then—several hours later—we enjoyed tea and cake at The Blue Moon Café, which has become something of a traditional stop-off point for us whenever we go to Chester. What can I say; they do excellent cake! And the café sits at the perfect point for a cuppa before heading back in the general direction of home.

We called into St John the Baptist’s Church, partially as Richard wanted to photograph the Norman ruins. Two exceptionally chubby squirrels came to inspect his efforts. Clearly they are used to tourists… These cuties positively wobbled with podge as they scampered over autumnal leaves and mosses—adorable little creatures, with cheeky faces and alert black eyes.

Richard took a few shots inside the church too, while I wandered around and soaked up the energy. This church stands on probably the oldest religious site in Chester. Before there was ever a Christian church built the site was in use for religious purposes. It stands directly on top of a ley line.

Richard bought himself a copy of The Marx Brothers’ Duck Soup, which completes his collection of their films, and while I wasn’t looking he bought me two dark faeries—long, slender, ragged-winged porcelain figurines some 10” and 8” tall, which are now on top of my puuter desk.

Writing
I’ve just completed a 5,000 Sci-Fi story—albeit for a tweak and a polish—which I'll probably call School. The deadline to submit this is coming up fast. I’ve also got another story, Fantasy again this time, to complete (or start, even) for a deadline in just over two weeks time. This reminds me of something Tim Hulme said at last month’s Riverside Writers meeting, when a new lady had asked about our writing projects. He said we have an entire month to work on each project, which means we usually leave writing anything until two days before the meeting!

Chester is one of our favourite places. The photo above shows the River Dee at Chester. It was tricky taking photos because the light wasn't really suitable; sharp light bouncing off the water, but with faint haze over the land, and the sky was too flat for good effect.



Here's one of Chester's bridges which spans the border between England and Wales. The atmospheric lighting was created by me twiddling with the exposure settings in my software.


Me, beside the River Dee.


Richard, outside the Blue Moon Cafe, beside the River Dee.

Anyway, while in Chester we called into St Werburg's Cathedral, where there was an exhibition of tapestry made by Quakers. Each work showed an aspect of the Quakers' history and their role in social change. The work which had gone into the needlework was admirable. Having done a fair bit of embroidery myself, I can appreciate how much time and effort had been given over to this project.

St Werburg's is a favourite of mine. The Gothic architecture is fabulous, and the atmosphere in this ancient and historic place is truly precious.

By the way, if you wish to view the other photos taken that same day, simply left-click on any of the above images and you'll be whisked away to my Flickr site. Look in the Local Travels set.

Laurell K Hamilton talks about her novels and offers advice to writers here:-
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/writers/writerdetails.asp?z=y&cid=1021632#interview

There’s an interesting blog entry about the process of novel writing here:-
http://douglas-clegg.livejournal.com/57446.html

Speaking of writing, I’ve added an extra chapter to Tamsin which seems to smooth out a ‘bump’ in the flow of the novel. Chapter thirteen, which follows on from this will, require a radical re-write, so once I’ve posted this LJ update that’s what I’ll be working on today.

We enjoyed a lovely trip to Chester on Monday. The River Dee had flooded the lower level of the river walk, but I have seen the waters higher on rare occasions. A gorgeous swan came to say hello to me. What beautiful creatures they are; and though to describe them as regal might be an unforgivable cliché, this word truly does belong to these magnificent birds. They can be surprisingly fierce – apparently their wings can break a man’s leg – and yet if you’ve ever watched one sailing along with cygnets hitching a ride on their backs then you’d know how tender they can be also.

We lunched in The Slug and Lettuce, which was rather pleasant, before having a wander round the old city. I bought some rather snazzy stiletto boots. I’ll admit to a fondness for boots… And once we’d wound our way down to the swollen river, we naturally went to our favourite Blue Moon Café for tea and cake – and they do make the most fluffy yummy cakes imaginable!

Chester is easily one of my favourite places. The energy of the place just feels right, somehow.

My mother and sister Evelyn came to visit, too. We had dinner at The Queen Anne in Oxton whose décor was lovely inside. What really caught my eye was the tasteful barn conversion to one side of the pub, though – huge windows, sandstone walls, with a small courtyard in front. I’d love something like that!

Lee and Lyn have just returned from a trip to Cyprus, which they enjoyed. Lee said everything was very expensive, though; they were charged $9 for two coffees and ice-creams.

Hmm, I’ve just noticed that this post is mostly about food. Spot the girl who’s on a diet.

Arching its long, ivory-white throat, the swan slowly dipped its beak to patiently sift the dark grey waters of the River Dee. The swift current which swirled relentlessly towards the foaming weir seemed to present no challenge to this strong and elegant creature.

“I wonder if ducks get fat,” he said, tucking in to a chunky slice of apple pie while watching three mallards and a grebe preen their gleaming feathers from the relative comfort of a floating wooden jetty.

I thought about it for a moment, savouring a melting mouthful of dark chocolate cake, before replying, “I suppose they must get a bit fat, but I’ve never seen a duck with a pot belly.”

Smiling faintly, he reached across the iron table to pour a second cup of tea from the white pot. “Duck is very fatty to eat, though, no? You wouldn’t think so much fat could be made from eating weeds.”

I knew what he was really thinking about. Having diagnosed the origins of the mysterious lump around his stomach, his doctor has advised a diet. Incredibly, it has taken two years, or thereabouts, for this revelation to have been arrived at.

I hesitated, and then quietly offered, “Perhaps ducks eat less biscuits?”

We’d already had a debate over the calorific merits of pie compared to cake, but the Blue Moon Café is famous for its delicious home-made products – and who can resist a piping hot cup of tea and a snack to ease weary feet after an afternoon of shopping in Chester? (For those familiar with the novels of Laurell K Hamilton, I can assure you that the young man who served us seemed far too polite to be a werewolf, but who can be certain of such things, hmm? Even werewolves, for all their penchant for snarling and dismemberment, might be angels in the kitchen.)

He scowled, and sharply changed the subject by admiring the dream-inducing mansions on the Welsh side of the river.

I wonder if ducks have a male ego?