I Bus diary continued (1980 ish) I did once invite a gentleman I’d just met on the bus inside the flat but it wasn’t a very good idea, as we’d already been for an orange juice (he drank coffee but I had given it up for Lent) and conversation was getting a little awkward though […]Read Post ›
Bus Diary circa 1981 With Belinda it was a different story. For about six months I used to read my morning paper, do the crossword – well, about five words – occasionally with the help of the conductor, and gaze at this extraordinarily slim young woman who would look to neither right nor left but […]Read Post ›
Bus Diary I have three particular friends on the bus. There’s Sophie, who’s thirteen and very clever; Belinda, who’s a little older than me, and extremely well read, judging by the volumes she gets through – or got through until we got acquainted – and John Martin – or Martin John – or something like […]Read Post ›
For AC My fourth grandmother, on the other hand, was the only one for whom I found difficulty in bringing any granddaughterly instincts to the fore. She was my stepfather’s mother, an aristocrat by birth, bearing and marriage, and the last ten years of her life exactly spanned the middle years of mine. She […]Read Post ›
For EMO My third grandmother- Babunia- was no blood relation – she was a holiday relative, and I loved her. Two school friends of my mother had married, begotten two children, and gone to live in Wales. Fresh air, a damp cottage on a farm, children, animals, flowers and a loving guardian were all […]Read Post ›
Not so my mother’s mother, of whom I began to be aware about the time when I was still at infant school. She too was plump. Impressively so. And shades of dark beauty still hung in her black eyes and her dyed hair. One day she appeared at the school gate with a large […]Read Post ›
Grandmothers -part two.
But back to circa 1956. My grandma has graduated to a hospital, my mother is no longer a child volunteer and my father has been honourably demobilized, given a minuscule grant, and told to get on with it. I am three years old and quiveringly anticipating this grandmatriarchal visitation. Physically she was very large. […]Read Post ›
Grandmothers – written in 1978 part one.
Grazyna Lomnicka Seydlitz, primo voto Wysoki I was born in Lwow on the 28th November 1929. where I went to school until the outbreak of the war in 1939. My sister Alicja was three at the time. My father, a lawyer, who was secretary at the LwowPolytechnicalUniversity, was called up […]Read Post ›
Life Through Basia's Eyes 