In 1911 tradesmen arrived in Kent Street near Sydney's Town Hall. They had instructions from the church leaders to dismantle St Andrew's Scots Presbyterian Church which included the removal of several memorial plaques, stained glass windows, a stone font, the timber rafters and cedar pews. One of the memorial plaques commemorated the life of Allan Cunningham a botanist and explorer. The plaque had been on the walls of the Kent Street church since Allan's life ended in 1839, at the early age of 48, when his body succumbed to the privations he had endured over many years of exploring Australia's wilderness.

Everything was transported to Rose Bay and installed in the new Scots church a few kilometres from Sydney Harbour's southern headland. This is where The Allan Cunningham Research Team found Allan's plaque in 2008.

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At the end of the first full year for both my blog and my website, a quick review of the visitor statistics reveals some rather interesting facts.

The website has been host to visitors from 45 different countries, including Azerbaijan, South Korea and Ukraine! They have been lead there by a wide variety of search terms. The most common of these have all included some variation on my own name or Uncle Alonzo's, but prizes for the most bizarre must surely go to "chocolate fireworks", "Paul Cookson poetry about furniture" and "once again many thanks for the lovely afternoon evenning endeed" (sic)! You can decide for yourself which one deserves first place!


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A few weeks ago, in the piece I did for the Independent's My Book of a Lifetime slot, I found myself saying, "Both my first novel, The Mathematics of Love, and now A Secret Alchemy are about love, war, and the life of the spirit. At the most fundamental level, I sometimes think, what else is there to write about?" The rhetorical question was designed to get readers disagreeing, and of course it's only partly true of my own work, let alone anyone else's. There are a million other things to write about, from being conceived, to hunting a great white whale, to chasing a nose which grows legs and joins the Russian civil service.

But both Kindred and Affinity and the little squeaks of a new story, maybe novel-sized, which I can hear in the gaps, are probably also encompassed in that definition (prescription?) of 'love, war and the life of the spirit'. This evening - maybe it's the New Year's Day blues - I'm wondering if it's a bad thing to stick with these same basic preoccupations; or is it simply a bad thing that I've become aware that I do?

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Last night was tedious. Stuck indoors with my sick boyfriend having had to cancel our night out and hoping that our irritating housemate and his even more irritating girlfriend would have broken a habit of a lifetime and gone out. But no, the lock in the front door goes and in they come at about 6 o'clock. All of us looking equally disappointed to see each other there. She makes the effort at least by offering us food and asking what we would like to watch on the box tonight. I cringe at the thought of spending the evening with them - we have nothing, absolutely nothing in common with each other (apart from the flat)and wonder what the hell we are supposed to chat about and then I start to visualise the dreaded midnight hour where we awkwardly wish each other happy new year. It was too much for me and I hissed in my boyfriend's ear telling him,'you better get well in the next half an hour, or I dont know what I'll do.' He perked up considerably and we staggered to the local pub for an hour or so. Returning, we cooked our meal and managed to watch some tedious programme with the housemates, but come half ten, neither us could face anymore and we sloped off quietly to bed. I am thankful the night is over. Very thankful. And equally glad that for the first time, I am experiencing the first day of the New Year without a hangover. Happy New Year!

My first blog post. first of January. one first short of three firsts. That would sound rather good, unfortunately I don't have another first for today that would be worth mentioning.

Well, I guess joining this site (and paying for it) is another first. Hopefully this site will provide me with inspiration, impetus, feedback (for when I feel brave enough to post a story) and a gateway to something much, much better. Not to say that 2008 was bad in any way, but hopefully 2009 will be the start of filling my soul.

That's pretty profound, isn't it? Filling ones soul...is that what we do this for? In a small or a big way? I suppose so. I think it's where I'm coming from, filling a space, not just filling time but making something come to life, making me come to life.

A Yorkshire alternative to New Years eve - albeit cynical - been out to stock up on supplies - Famous Grouse and Stones ginger wine, plus snackettes to die for ... (more)

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Although the frost turned the rooftops white last night, it’s good to see the flowers again.


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So its New Year's Eve and it seems that our plans for celebrations tonight will have to be put on hold as my partner has the flu. I think perhaps its not such a disaster after all as I should be able to start my New Year's resolution with a clear head. I had toyed with the idea of trying to give something up but I really didn't fancy giving up the booze and I have already, begrudgingly, given up the smoking, I thought perhaps I should take something up instead. So, I aim to finish that book I have been trying to write for the past two years by trying to write 5000 words a week - no mean feat as I work full time and I am also beginning a part time evening course in teaching. We'll see...

Hooray! I managed to take a picture of one at last!



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D was shocked at the price of £6.50 for a miniature quiche and tiny salad, but an accompanying glass of wine at £2 made it a bargain compared with the stand-alone price of £5 for the wine. The water's free.


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