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.

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 presented a passable version of summer when we were in Southport earlier this week. Richard and I met Mum and my sister Evelyn there, and we had an abysmal meal in a place we’d previously praised. Richard bought squeaky toys for the dogs, and a pink fluffy glove puppet rabbit which Ygraine instantly adopted. Emily has since ripped its face off but that hasn’t deterred Ygraine's affection.

Swine flu vaccine dangers: http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2009/07/16/Major-Expose-on-Swine-Flu-by-60-Minutes.aspx

According to last night's BBC news, a total of 29 people in the UK have died from swine flu.

However, according to http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/4459140.stm: "Flu kills about 12,000 people (in the UK) a year, although twice in the last 15 years the death toll has reached nearly double that."

This comparison of figures does rather put the current media panic about swine flu into perspective.

As some of you may know, I've a liking for Dr Mercola's no-nonsence wholistic health advice. In the article (link above) he offers free, useful and rational information about the level of threat from swine flu and what you can do about it.

Remember that the makers of pills and vaccines have a vested interest in their products selling well. Panic in the populace puts massive money in their nasty little pocketses.

An excellent, rational article re. swine flu can be found here:- http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2009/05/05/Swine-Flu-Update.aspx

On the TV news this morning was one of the two Scotsmen who have allegedly become infected with swine flu. He said it felt like having a head-cold. In other words, he had the sniffles.

Every year, flu viruses reduce the population slightly. As has been suggested elsewhere, the sales of potions to protect against such bugs generates much lucre; and the medicine itself also fills a few extra coffins.

Every so often there really is a pandemic--or so history reports. Certainly right now the press is having a merry time predicting devastation from this pig-related flu, perhaps as it conveniently distracts people from thinking about the pig’s ear which seems to have been created in the world of finance.

Medical folk keep telling us that stress reduces the ability of our immune systems to ward off viruses (and ill-health in general.) Worrying about pig flu could therefore possibly increase a person's susceptibility to it.

Anyway, whilst busily peeling the veg for tonight’s dinner, I began wondering why the name “swine” had been chosen. No-one talks about eating swine chops, or enjoying roast swine. The word can be used as an insult; as an expletive even. Yet the press adore it as it sounds so much more dramatic than “pork” or “pig”.

So, using a little dark humour to keep us all safe and well, our immunity unstressed by tales of impending bogey-viruses, how about a spot of re-naming to help keep things in perspective.

My proposal: From now on, only the term “piggy sniffles” should be used.

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.

Dragon tattoo by Richard:- http://www.myspace.com/richie_tattoo_artist

Richard spent a rough night due to the cold he's caught. Consequently he spent half of today in bed. He's sat in his Man Cave now, watching a documentary about The Beatles, with Saffron purring in his lap. He likes some of their music but not all of it. Saffron couldn't care less what's playing so long as she gets her ears tickled.

Anyway, while he was snoring triumphantly in bo-bos, I was busy tapping away on this puuter. Today's word count for Bethany Rose is 1,879 words. I love it when a character does something unexpected. I had no idea Bethany was going to move into a haunted house! This MS is very different in mood from Rowan. Whereas Rowan has a languid romantic feel to it, BR is much, much darker.

Did anyone tune in to 7 Waves Radio today? Four members of Riverside Writers were guests on Cath Bore's Lunchtime Forum show: Tim Hulme, Peter Caton, Eileen Murphy and Peter Hurd. I'll be back on air at next month's session, having volunteered to opt out this time to allow some other people a turn on air.

No news about the postponed Wirral Bookfest 2009 yet; and no wonder, with the situation regarding the threatend closure of so many of Wirral's libraries and other community resources still undecided.

The good news, though, is that playrite Sylvia Taylor has agreed to visit Riverside Writers and give a talk/workshop on script writing. The date is yet to be confirmed. Sylvia has co-written for the BBC and used to run her own theatre company. Currently she's making small films (which have been shown on the huge public screen in Liverpool city centre), planning full-length films, and works in community art development.

Captured on my neice's Blackberry... Beelzepup in full glory!

The pond is still partially frozen. This doesn't seem to be troubling the ducks and geese at all. The dogs enjoyed snuffling through mounds of soggy leaves in the wood, of course. Horses have been brought to the neighbouring field, among them an adorable Shetland pony--chocolate brown with a caramel-coloured tail and mane. They thundered up to the wire fence to say hello. The dogs were on leads, of course, kept out of the reach of the horses' hooves.

Later I walked into the village for a few odds and ends from the supermarket, and to pick up Richard's prescription from the medical centre. He's been having a lot of migraines lately. They seem to go in cycles; he'll get a run of them, then they'll calm down again. The staff know him by sight, whereas I have only needed the doctor once since we moved to the area, eight-and-a-half years ago.

Earlier today I did more work on Turning Tides. I'd written it once already, but my old puuter ate it when it died. So now I want to re-write it again. I've given up trying to remember exactly how I wrote the first version--this is what's been holding me up with this story. So now I've decided that I'll just write it, and it'll come out however it'll come out. It would be a shame not to use the Ynys Mon historical research, anyway. I don't want to turn to the tale into an info dump--I've made that mistake before, with another story--but I do want to drop the odd fact into the plot, just to add a little weight.

Speaking of weight--she says, smirking proudly--I've lost three-quarters of a stone! Wipeeee!!!

Within me lurks an evil genii which clamours for chocolate the second I’m out of the dentist’s door….

Today he removed a prehistoric filling which he couldn’t find anything wrong with. He said there was no decay beneath it either, but the tooth had developed a sharp twinge. So he put in a lining (whatever one of those may be) and refilled it, and invited me to return if the tooth continues to be a pest.

So now I’m back at home, sipping Chai and nibbling on a Thornton’s dark continental. Two, even.

I deserve a treat for facing the ordeal of the anaesthetic. I say so, anyway.

Ok, I know it’s irrational, illogical, bla bla bla, but I have a major phobia of needles. Once the injection’s out of the way, I’m fine--but a lot of yogic breathing and similar goes on before and during, which goes a long way towards controlling pulse rate and temperature.

The nutty thing is that I’ve spent the last eighteen months talking one of my nieces into going to the dentist. But a person has to attend to these things; it’s all part of the joys of being a responsible adult (or so I told her, while trying not to convey my own trepidation!)

Richard's not feeling too perky today, due to having one of his migraines. He took the dogs for a long walk on Caldy Hill this morning to try and clear his head, and now he's in his den listening to another Dr Who audio play--he has oodles of them.

My right shoulder is aching badly. I suspect I've developed a strain of some kind due to spending too long in a fixed position at the computer. Any ideas, anyone?

Meanwhile, I've been working on a short Fantasy story set on Hilbre Island in 61 AD., when a small community of Druids lived on there (according to my story, anyway.) The currently untitled tale is partially about the annihilation of the Druids in Ynys Mon/Anglesey on the orders of the Roman Emperor Nero, and carried out by Suetonius Paulinus. So far I've written 2,500 words of it, and the finished story will probably be 3,000.

A much larger range of merchandise for Richie Tattoo Artist has now been added to our range. There are t-shirts of many styles, plus baseball caps, mousemats, aprons, bags and so on. Take a look at the whole gallery at http://www.zazzle.com/AdeleCB

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? Someone was complaining to me (again) about how much their teeth hurt, especially now that one filling has fallen out and half of another tooth has snapped off. A quick glance inside this person’s mouth gave me a glimpse of several other badly decaying teeth. But will this person go to a dentist, even though I’ve encouraged them (numerous times) to do so, even though I’ve pointed this person in the direction of a free dental hospital? I’ve even offered to go with them for moral support.

No. Instead, they live with bad teeth, constant pain and the threat of abscesses. They moan and do nothing.

“Part of being an adult,” I said, “means taking responsibility for yourself. You can’t behave like an ostrich, stick your head in the sand and hope problems will go away.”

Hmm, maybe sand was blocking this person’s ears already.

A busy day!

First I updated my weekly blog on the Wirral Globe: http://www.wirralglobe.co.uk.

Then Lisa arrived to groom Ygraine’s coat, which was overdue really. I love the way she looks when she’s all fluffy and bedraggled but it’s just not fair to her in this heat. Right now, she’s happily chasing blackbirds away from the toast crusts which I threw out earlier. How good of her to guard them for me.

I put the front room curtains through the wash, and then sat down to write the last chapter of Rowan. I’d been wondering how on earth I was going to write this, but an idea popped into my head just as I sat down to the computer – which tends to happen a lot, actually. The word count now stands at 99,500 so by the time the epilogue’s been written I’ll have achieved my intended 100,000 words for the first draft.

I managed to fit an hour’s gardening in, too, and made turkey casserole – which is currently bubbling quietly in the kitchen and reminding me I’ve an empty stomach. This is due to it being 5.50pm (we usually eat between 6pm and 7pm) and due to me banning myself from munching another morsel of biscuit or chocolate (or similar) for the foreseeable future. I love chocolate but I want a waist more.

And tomorrow, probably 8am-ish, the house will be invaded by builders who are going to remove a pointless door and block the hole up. Here’s hoping it doesn’t make too much mess, as I’ve hardly had time to clean up the dust from having the new fire and surround installed! As can probably be gathered, we’re in the process of renovating our living area. We’re going for a Victorian Gothic look. This will first necessitate having a major clear-out of various vile objects d’art which we’ve acquired over the years. People should be banned from giving ornaments as gifts, they really should

Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful. - William Morris

"Bleurch" pretty well sums up how I feel right now. Yes, I'm running a temperature. I insist on numerous declarations of sympathy at frequent intervals. Offerings of chocolate are mandatory.

I did no writing at all either yesterday or today. However, I've sorted out the use of a microphone for Words from Wordsmiths, and I've begun promoting the event. West Kirby Library is hosting several events for Wirral Book Fest, and will be putting up a big display to advertise it shortly.

Emily swiped a new "ball" from the vegetable rack yesterday. Well, it was round and looked like the rubber ball she usually plays with, and it had an interesting crackly paper-like covering too. And then she bit down on it. Ooow, her little face was a picture. Clearly she isn't partial to raw onion...!

Today "Beelzepup" has pulled Ygraine's flea collar off and refuses to give it me back. I think she's chewed the plastic fastener off already. I've been trying to get it from her but she's playing her favourite hide-round-the-table game. If I go towards her, she dashes the other way; if I go the other way, she dashes back again - great fun, according to Emily, so the only thing to do is ignore her until she gets bored running off with whatever she's run off with this time.

Her usual trick is to pounce on something in the laundry basket and gallop off around the garden with it dangling from her mouth. By the time I rescue it (socks and undies being her favourite targets) they're covered in mud, dog slobber and tooth holes.

My neice gave me a miniature red rose plant for Mother's Day! te he he!! Wasn't that sweet!

I’ve picked up some kind of 24-hour bug. All yesterday was spent endlessly sneezing and feeling hot and cold by turns. I’ve thrown it off overnight, and apart from sore ribs from all the yaa-choooing - and mild lethargy, which I’ll fix with a good feed shortly – I’m ok again.

Still, it gave me the perfect excuse to curl up with Laurell K Hamilton’s The Harlequin, which I’m enjoying. I’m about ¾ through the novel – spoil the ending for me at your peril!!

Richard is addicted to carbonara. My Richard, that is, not the fictional werewolf. We caught the tale-end of a cookery program last week, when someone was cooking it, and Richard liked the look of the meal. So I had a go at making it – and it really is ridiculously simple and takes only about half-an-hour, and makes an incredibly tasty, nutritious meal. Never let it be said that I let a good opportunity go to waste; I’ve now got Rowan cooking it in chapter 31!

We watched a fascinating film last night, which used marionettes as actors. The detail on the faces, and the way they moved, was extraordinary! Strings was released in 2004 and neither of us had heard of it before, which seems such a pity as it took four years to make, apparently, and it truly was an enchanting, imaginative film.

More here:- http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0374248/

Another film which we both enjoyed was The Prestige, which tells the story of two rival stage magicians, each trying to outdo the other to grab audiences and income. The rivalry takes them both to extremes - but it's only right at the very end of the film that the viewer realised how delectably clever the story had been.

It’s raining again! Our garden lawn looks a total mess, but it’s been far too wet all week to get the mower out.

I can see every blade of grass in perfect, crisp focus. Guess who’s got new reading glasses. Amazing how being able to helps you notice the bits you didn’t dust…. I picked these up from the opticians on Thursday. Apparently my need for reading glasses is only border-line, but I find them useful as I tend to do close-up work for prolonged periods of time.

Anyhoooo, I’d better get on with some writing. I’m currently half way through writing chapter ten of Rowan. I should have finished it this morning but Harry Potter... got in the way.

My folklore article, The Language of Flowers has been earmarked for publication in either the August or September edition of Prediction. The magazine itself can be purchased at all major newspaper/magazine retail outlets, but can also be bought and previewed on-line at:- http://www.predictionmagazine.co.uk

Much of today was spent writing the first draft of Green Dreams, a non-fiction piece aimed at the forthcoming Mersey Minis – Volume 3, which will be the result of a writing competition run by local publisher Capsica. Take a look at:- http://www.merseyminis.com

My right shoulder is killing me! Have I developed a repetitive strain injury due to working away at this computer for hours on end every day? I’ve had pain from the muscle on the upper arm now for around three weeks. I’ve got way to much work to do to rest it!

"Mmm, this tastes good," he said, sipping a smoothie.

"What's in it?"

"Oh, you know... Live yoghurt, a dash of pure orange juice for liquid, four bananas, two plums, two apricots, a big spoonful of honey, a carrot, half a brocoli and ten sprouts."

Yesterday morning found me in Birkenhead, where I purchased a course of multi-vitamins and replenished my stationary supply. I even bought another diary for next year, this time one whose months are in the correct order…

Do you think I was asking for much when I requested that a guest did not smoke in our house? I certainly don’t. For one thing, the smell is revolting; for another, others can do without inhaling their carcinogenic toxins; for a third thing, I’m still coughing from the tail-end of the pesky bronchial pneumonia which I seem to be taking aeons to cast off (hence the multi-vitamins). And for a fourth thing, the patio doors were wide open and the guest in question could have easily stood outside in the mild sunshine for a while.

This guest was quite belligerent. “I don’t change my habits for anyone,” he said – rather rudely, in my opinion. Oddly enough, despite his protest, he soon found himself standing on the patio. *chuckles*

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?

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?

Every person who has ever looked into a mirror and felt disheartened by what they see should view this very short film clip.

http://www.campaignforrealbeauty.com/home_films_evolution_v2.swf