One of my readers commented recently on a throwaway remark of mine- fear of war- and I began to think about it more deeply. And this fear is indeed always at the back of my mind, as is my horror of being in prison. So I began to try and think why these two things are […]Read Post ›
Imagine the woman who can fold herself into a suitcase. Lithe, long of limb, lissom, luxurious hair, lovely large eyes. You know the type. Every day when I get dressed I have this vision before me. I grunt as I try to regain my balance as I put on my underwear. I groan as I fumble […]Read Post ›
We came back from Malaga about four weeks ago. Six days of bliss, mainly because we had six unadulterated days of our four month old grandson. Unfortunately I can’t share any pictures of him, but suffice it to say that if I did, the internet would be awash the most gorgeous baby in the world. […]Read Post ›
I found this yesterday. It brought back memories of my cousin Gustaw who died a few weeks ago in Poland. I met him for the first time when I was eleven, in 1965, in Częstochowa, Poland. My father had taken me by car and generally the trip was quite gruelling for me, partly because everyone […]Read Post ›
Today is the tenth anniversary of my father’s death. This photo was taken in 1982. He was a sprightly 63. Kasia was one and a bit. I am showing you this photo because it brings back so many memories. We were living in the flat above my godfather’s accountancy office which he rented out to […]Read Post ›
I can’t remember the last time I put pen to paper, metaphorically anyway, but I promise you I have written many blog posts in my head in the last few months. I have plenty to write about of my own accord, and other people, including family members, have asked me to write about specific things. […]Read Post ›
I don’t know who took this photo, but it is one of my favourite ones of my father. He stayed in Italy after the war, and started attending Rome University , but soon realised that there would be more opportunities in England for Poles like him, who had been deported to Siberia, then managed to […]Read Post ›
The beginning of our next little adventure. I’ve been several times before, the first time 60 years ago when I was almost twelve. My father had taken me very unwillingly (I was unwilling – I’m not sure about my dad) on holiday to Lido Di Jesolo, a popular holiday resort near Venice, with the regulation sandy […]Read Post ›
What is this ugly thing? You may well ask; I had to ask myself the same thing when I found it last week. But then I saw Mrs Washington’s handwriting, and it all came back to me. Mrs W, from Marlborough School, my teacher for the whole four years, was very ken=en on handicrafts. She […]Read Post ›
St Augustine’s Priory. Form III. The first year of senior school. It would be year 7 these days. I had just arrived, and was settling in to the boarding system, just about, but the classroom was another kettle of fish. Luckily I didn’t find any of the work at all difficult (apart form PE and […]Read Post ›
Life Through Basia's Eyes 