Robert Edward Gordon; my godfather. Of course he wasn’t born Robert Edward Gordon 104 years ago today. He was born Zbigniew Szczepański, in Poznań, I believe, 6 days after Poland regained her independence after 123 years of partition. I imagine his mother must have been thrilled to give birth to her first and I believe […]Read Post ›
This was Mother Mary Austen’s catchphrase. Oh, how we laughed at her. One of the most ancient of nuns in my convent school, she was big, ungainly and ripe for teasing at all times. Her innocence was immense. She had entered the convent before the first world war, and once admitted to us she had […]Read Post ›
A few days ago I wrote about my minuscule part in The Crucible, by Arthur Miller, a play written as an allegory to the witch-huntery of communists and sympathisers in McCarthy’s America. A powerful play, when properly performed, thought provoking and disturbing. Witch-hunting is nothing new. Rumour, the spread of gossip, the false reporting, conspiracy […]Read Post ›
A couple of weeks ago my youngest daughter suggested that we go to Vienna. She is on a three month sabbatical with time on her hands, I’m not working, and her brother speaks German. So we decided to go. (Today I actually found an email from February – Andrzej asking if we could go to […]Read Post ›
I was a great disappointment to my father in one particuar way. I did not like sport. I could not catch a ball, or throw it, or run, or jump, or aim, or swim, or ride. Nothing. He did manage to teach me to skate – how? I can’t now, but I did learn to […]Read Post ›
For everyone who has asked why I’ve not written much this year. A year of such promise. I’ve just been looking back on all the stuff I wrote about so enthusiastically at the beginning of the year. I was so keen to keep a diary of all the exciting things I would be doing on […]Read Post ›
I love lipstick. Every handbag, every drawer, every bathroom shelf will reveal at least a stick or two of wonderful lip covering paint. I love it for its colour and texture and promise. It makes me look brighter and feel better. It makes me grown up and glamorous and more like Pat Phoenix than Ena […]Read Post ›
Going backwards from today. This is to help me remember. The rain it raineth everyday. I don’t particularly need to remember that, but diarists always seem to mention the weather. I’m never particularly interested in the weather. I don’t like being too cold or too hot or too wet any more than the next person, […]Read Post ›
I don’t really know how I managed to forget to write about this place when I was writing about our four day trip to Kraków. We had gone to Kazimierz, the old Jewish quarter of Kraków, not to do anything as exciting as sightseeing but to change my battery in my phone, which had been […]Read Post ›
Today it was raining. I had promised myself earlier in the year that I would go and visit the gardens to see the Chihuly exhibition on display there, and for the whole summer I thought I would go when it is sunny – glass always looks beautiful with light reflecting off it, and so it […]Read Post ›
Life Through Basia's Eyes 