Dawyck & Destruction

Hi All,
We are now half-way through our holiday in the Border town of Peebles, and after spending the previous day walking around Melrose and its wonderful abbey, a trip to a garden was now in order.

And so it was that my wife and I set off for Dawyck Botanical Gardens. The gardens are situated near the village of Stobo, in Upper Tweeddale, and although it is only about six miles from Peebles, a nicer six miles would be hard to find. I'm pleased to report that the gardens were extremely peaceful, which suits us down to the ground because I've found that noisy places are rarely beautiful. Dawyck gardens can be described as a series of pathways that climb and descend through a magnificent landscape of trees and bushes. There are flowers, in fact, there are lots of them spread throughout the garden for visitors to enjoy. However, those expecting to find sweeping herbaceous borders full of delphiniums and agapanthus will be disappointed.

This is a garden to wander about slowly; to take one's time and appreciate the variety of trees and bushes. Some of the trees were planted a long while ago, so are now of specimen proportions. By the time we'd walked every path in the garden it was mid-afternoon, so we decided that we'd used up enough energy for one day and went back to our caravan and recuperate.


As soon as we got into the caravan Terry Anne put the kettle on while I went into the lounge and switched on the tv. Now, it is very seldom that I have the urge to watch any daytime telly , but I thought I'd just take a look to see what was on offer whilst I drank my tea.

Now then, have you ever had one of those moments when your brain can't understand what your eyes are seeing? Well, this was when I had such a moment. The television screen showed a jet airliner flying straight into a skyscraper. At first I thought it must be a film, but the sound track that came with the images told me that I was witnessing something terrible. I called my wife to come and look and we slowly began to understand that terrorists had hijacked some planes and flown them into various buildings in the USA. It was a real shock to the senses, how human beings can do such terrible things to one another is totally beyond my comprehension.

People say that they can remember where they were when certain things happened in their lives. Many can recall where they were, for instance, when they heard about the murders of JF Kennedy or John Lennon. As it happens I can't recall where I was when either of those two people died, but I can recall two others in great detail. I was in my lounge at home when I saw the news about the death of Elvis Presley on the telly and I was in the same room when my sister told me of the death of the great Harry Chapin.

And so the lovely day spent at Dawyck Gardens will, for me, always be associated with murder and mayhem.

On a brighter note, we spent the next day taking in some more of the Border's famous abbeys and I will tell you more about that in my next Scottish post.

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Bossyboots

Hi, I've had a very busy January, but between writing and proofreading commitments I have managed to spend some time proofreading my first novel, Boosyboots. The story covers a few weeks in the life of Michael Riley, the manager of a pottery factory, who is forced into a midlife crisis when his wife walks out on him. However, the blurb about boosyboots is not the purpose of this post.
What I want to talk about is the use of phone numbers in fiction, so please stay with me for a minute and all will be revealed. In my novel, poor old Michael Riley, goes on a quest to find another partner and have lots of rampant sex along the way. He puts adverts in the lonely hearts column of his local paper and joins a dating agency, but he finishes up disappointed and in some dire situations.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I had to use a lot of phone numbers in the book, so that Michael could get in touch with his various dates. So where did I get them from? Well, I just made them up. I have absolutely no idea what would happen if anybody tried calling them. I thought all authors made them up; what else can you do? Well, when I was half-way through proofreading, Bossyboots, I read an article that covered the issue of phone numbers and discovered there is a proper solution.

Apparently, the use of phone numbers in fiction and on the telly has been an issue for years. Some sad people can't help but ring the numbers that appear on the telly and in books. They see 'Street Cars' phone number on the top of a taxi in Coronation Street and ring up expecting to speak to Steve McDonald or Clare Peacock. I know that can't happen now because Clare's cleared off to France. Not that I think she did it, I reckon it was somebody from the prison where Tracy was banged up, but she's too scared to come clean, so she's letting Clare take the rap. Sorry, I digress, let's get back to the plot.

Because this problem has been known about for a long time, special numbers have been made available. If you go to ofcom'w website, www.ofcom.org.uk click here and follow the links through to drama you will find a whole range of numbers that can be used when writing fiction. There are blocks of a 1000 numbers that even have an authentic area code. For instance if you want a number for Manchester, you can use area code 0161 and then pick a number anywhere from the following range 4960000-4960999. Lots of cities are covered, except of course, Stoke-on-Trent, where Bossyboots is set. I guess I'll just have to use the closest code and that's Birmingham.

That's it for this post, but if you want to find out more about me, my books or writing services, please click here.

Crucian Carp

I guess a lot of anglers would put the carp in the number one spot because it's a great fish, but I've placed it in bronze position.
There is no doubt that the carp is a good looking fish, especially the crucian pictured on the right. Most anglers love the carp because it provides excellent sport, even the little crucian carp can put up a good scrap on light tackle. It's a shame crucian carp don't grow to the same size as tench because they would be hard to beat. In common with other anglers, the biggest fish I've ever caught was a carp, so why doesn't it doesn't rank higher with me.
Well, I've given the matter some thought and believe that it's because the carp is a relatively new fish. It may surprise some younger anglers to know that before the advent of commercial fisheries, the carp was almost a rarity. The common carp below was caught at Baden Hall, near Stafford. It is now one of the largest fisheries in Europe and stuffed with carp of all sizes.

I can't remember when I caught my first carp, but I think it must have been during late seventies. I suppose if I'd grown up with this fish it would be in my number one spot, and if I had to pick my favourite carp it would go to the crucian. Mirrors, commons and leathers may grow much bigger, but they lack the charm of their smaller cousin.

Although I fished a lot of matches when I was younger, I also liked to do a bit of pleasure fishing and crucian carp were often the main quarry. Many a summer's morning was spent fishing a pool that was surrounded by mature oaks. My pals and I would be the only ones fishing in that rural splendor and we would enjoy some great banter whilst catching a succession of crucians. Punched bread, light tackle and crucian carp; oh how I cherish those memories.
Now if the carp can only make it to number three, I bet your wondering what could be in the top two spots. The answer will be reveal in my next fishing post. Meanwhile,If you want to find out more about me or my books, please click here.
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Melrose and Galashiels

Hi,
On the next day, of our tour around Scotland, we thought we'd have a change from gardens and take a look at some of the Border towns. We followed the river Tweed downstream and then veered off to Galashiels.
Now at that point I was no stranger to the name, Galashields, because a chap I was once on a management course with, actually worked there for a company called Pringle(wool not crisps). I had listened to the way he talked about Galashields over many a pint, and he convinced me that the place was only one rung down from heaven. With me being a lover of Scotland I didn't take much convincing and,of course, I presumed every word was true.

Anyway, we entered Galshields wearing our rose coloured glasses, but came out with them shattered. We drove through the town and such was our disappointment that we didn't even bother to stop. To be truthful, Galashields wasn't that bad really, especially when you compare it some of the places close to where I live, but on that day it wasn't what we were looking for.
So, having given Galashiels the swerve, we carried onto the next border town of Melrose. This time we drove into the town without the rose coloured glasses and we were very pleasantly surprised. I think that, Ryan, who I was on the course with, was thinking about Melrose when he waxed lyrical about Galashiels.

Melrose, which is well known for its abbey, was small and full of interesting shops. In fact, when we were walking around one of the shops my wife gave me a nudge.
"Can you see who's over there?" she asked.
Well, I looked in the direction she was pointing but couldn't see anything or anyone special.
"It's Julie Felix," she says. you remember her. It was now 2001, and my wife was talking about a folk singer from the sixties, so ever likely I didn't recognise her.
"She sang that awful song, 'Mummy's Taking us to the Zoo Tomorrow, Zoo Tomorrow' if you remember."
Well of course I remembered the song, how could anybody foget it? But a face from over thirty years ago was another matter. I've never been good on faces and, after that many years, my wife was probably just hallucinating.
So, Julie, in the unlikely event that you are reading this post, I'd be grateful if you you let me know if you were shopping in Melrose, in September 2001. It would be nice to know if my wife was right,again.

The other great thing about Melrose is the abbey and museum, which are situated close to the town centre. Having completed our shopping we took a peaceful stroll around this majestic ruin and then went for some lunch.
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Writing and proofreading

Hi,
This year I've decided to divide my time between writing and proofreading. I like to have a plan, even if it is very basic, because it will help me to avoid go around in circles. If there's one thing I can't abide it's going around in circles.
When it comes to planning I often recall the words of my tutor from when I was doing a Post Graduate Diploma in management studies. According to him, planning was all about the 5 Ps: Poor Planning, equals Piss Poor Performance and he was right. If ever you find yourself heading for the deep and smelly, a plan is essential. Doing nothing, or hoping for a bit of luck will usually end in disaster. In my experience, only one thing follows bad luck and that's another big dollop of the same.

So, looking at the year a head I have decide to approach it with an attack on two fronts. The author in me wants to write and publish more books, so I guess that is going to occupy a lot of my time. I am currently proofreading my novel, "Bossyboots" and hope to publish it next month. I also have a semi-autobiographical book, with the working title, "A Staffordshire Boy" that is also waiting to go through the proofreading process. Besides these two books I also have a crime novel in progress, but I've decided it would be better to stop writing that and concentrate on publishing the books I'd already written.

So, this year, my target on the writing front is to finish proofreading and publish the two books that I have already written, and if time allows it would be nice to finish writing and publish my crime novel.

Besides the writing, I will also be providing a proofreading service for others. If you've been following my posts you will know that I like doing courses and last year was no exception. I decided that because proofreading was such a bind when preparing my books for publication, that I'd do a course and learn to do it properly. Well, I started last April and completed the course a week before Christmas. I am now offering my services at special introductory prices and hope that will lead to me getting some real experience. I know that a lot of people may prefer a proofreader who already has a lot of experience, but we've all got to start somewhere. The fact that I am new will mean that I am keen to do a professional job and my clients will also get the benefit of special introductory rates. I think that proofreading and writing make very good partners and no doubt I will be busy one way or the other.

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Roach and Tares

Hi all,
Today, I'm going to tell you why the roach, even though it isn't a big fish, manages to take the number 4 spot in my top ten fish. A roach weighing a couple of pounds can be considered quite a specimen and, although I've come very close, I never quite managed to crack the 2lb barrier.

So, what is it that makes the roach so appealing? Well, to start off with, it looks like a proper fish. It's the right shape and colour; it isn't slimy like a bream or tench and doesn't have spikes or teeth.

The fact that the roach is so widespread, also helps it in the popularity stakes. It is caught all over the country and is equally at home, in canals, still waters or rivers. There are few other fish that are truly happy in such a variety of waters.

When it comes to bait, the roach comes up trumps again. It will take almost every bait that the angler can throw at it and even some baits that aren't used for other fish. Here I'm thinking of tares, I've never used this bait for any species other than the roach.

The roach, will also happily feed in the winter, when most other fish are tucked up in the nearest weed bed. And is there another fish that will feed so obligingly at any depth? Tench and bream for example, like their food nailed to the bottom, whereas a rudd likes it higher in the water. Roach don't care, they'll feed at any depth as long as it's wet.

So there we have it. The roach is good looking fish, that will take any bait, in any water, at any depth and that is why it comes in a number 4.

I recently looked back at the fishing sessions I've had over the years and, surprisingly, it wasn't thoughts of the matches I'd won that brought a smile to my face, it was the majical memories of fishing for roach with hemp and tares.

I guess my favourite fishing times were in the late seventies. My fishing pals and I would go on regular outings to the river Trent. The areas around, Shardlow and Long Eaton, were among our favourite spots and there we'd spend eight hours or more fishing the stick.

We'd go armed with a several pints of bronze maggots, a bag of hemp and half a pint of tares. Our method was simple. We'd run our stick floats down the side, about a rod length out, and feed a pinch of maggots and hemp with every cast. Using a maggot on the hook, we'd catch a procession of gudgeon, small roach, chub and perch. In fact, most days it was impossible not to catch a fish with every trot down the river. Every now and again our rods would be put to the test when a big perch or a clonker chub took the bait, but what we were really after were the big roach. These fish averaged about 10oz each and could be caught in quick session if they were feeding right. So, every now and again we'd try a tare on the hook, instead of a maggot, and if the tare was taken we knew we'd have a brilliant day.

It's not possible to convey the feeling that came when fishing the Trent, on a day when the roach were taking hemp and tares, but I'll never forget it. If, Paul Burton, Fred Latocha and Neil Dale are reading this post, I bet they haven't forgotten either.

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Rosslyn Chapel

Hi all,
Hope you had a good Christmas and the new year brings you equally good health and contentment.

In my last post about Scotland you may recall that an artist at Traquair House, suggested that if we appreciated the work of craftsmen, we ought to visit Rosslyn Chapel. It was September of 2001 and because it was before Dan Brown wrote the Da Vinci code, we hadn't heard of it and I guess most other people hadn't either.

Anyway, we were going through the list of places that we had in mind to visit whilst we were in the borders area and, during a moment of indecision, my wife suggested that we should go and have a look at the Rosslyn Chapel we'd been told about. It seemed like a good idea and we took a very pleasant drive out towards Edinburgh and only stopped once to let our dog stretch his legs. I parked the car in a layby on the side of a quiet lane and my wife and I were both taken in by a large bush that made up part of the hedge.
It was absolutely covered in tear drop shaped, red berries as you can see in the photo on the left. Now, if you've been following my tour of Scotland you will know that my wife and I love to visit gardens and, although we are not experts in all things horticultural, we can recognise most plants we see and know most of them by name.

In fact, boring as it may seem to some people, we always take a few reference books with us on holiday just in case we come across some flora or fauna we don't recognise. Anyway, we inspected the bush and even took a small cutting so that we could check it out in the reference books we'd left in our caravan at Pebbles.

Carrying on with our journey we eventually reached Rosslyn Chapel and found it was just as the man a Traquair House had described. We parked outside and had the place to ourselves, which is something I don't believe is possible since it has become the focus of so many books. I'm pleased that we discovered it before it became famous because it allowed us revel in the unique atmosphere that such places seem to generate.
I'm not particularly religious and neither is my wife, but there is something about churches and chapels that makes one feel very peaceful. Rosslyn Chapel was only small, but it seemed to have more carved stone work than some cathedrals we'd seen. The photo on the right is The Apprentice Pillar, which according to legend, was so well carved by the apprentice, that the master mason murdered him in a fit of jealousy.

Having been stunned by Rosslyn, we spent the afternoon touring the lovely countryside and called in at the little border town of Biggar, before returning to Peebles for the night

Back at the caravan we studied our books, but could not find any reference to the beautiful bush we'd seen. We had worked out that it was a type of berberis,but could not find the type. We would have to wait until we got home and maybe it would prove to be a worthy challenge for the Internet. I will tell you if we found out what it was in my next Scotland post. Meanwhile, if you have any ideas about the bush I'd be pleased to hear you suggestions. If you would just like to find out more about me, my books or writing services, Please click here.