The very first record I ever bought. It cost 6 and eightpence, and you could get three singles for a pound. I didn’t have a pound so I bought this one – or at least I persuaded my mother to buy it for me. I used to play it over and over again on […]Read Post ›
Gallery 5. Ogle Street. 1969. September 6th to the 10th. What a working week. I had been bored most of the summer holiday that year (tho’ it might have been the year my father took me to Yugoslavia, in which case I hadn’t been bored at all) but there was still a week of the […]Read Post ›
I thought I had already written about this picture, but today I found it in my drafts, so obviously I haven’t. Apologies to everyone who has heard this story, but here it is for posterity. Ten years ago my husband fulfilled one of his lifelong dreams and took me to Africa. I know one shouldn’t […]Read Post ›
I love my ducks. We bought them many years ago in a florist’s just down the road from the hotel Bacchus, lovingly run by Herr Schnurr and his wife in the little town of Wachenheim in the German Palatinate. We had actually set out to buy some white wine from the vintner down the road, […]Read Post ›
