To Autumn John Keats 1795 –1821 Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,  Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;Conspiring with him how to load and bless  With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,  And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;    To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells  With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,And still more, later flowers for the bees,Until they think warm days will never cease,    For summer...

In the UK, women are disproportionately affected by dementia, with two out of three people with the condition being female . While longer...

Summer is here! And Its hot hot hot. I love it as I lived in hot climates but not everyone does and for many older people it can cause...