George Sand has always been a very romantic figure in my imagination. Ever since I was at my boarding school in Ealing, when Mother Mary Dominic swore me to secrecy not to let the other nuns know that I knew, she divulged that Chopin’s lover, that very wicked woman, had actually been a pupil at […]Read Post ›
Yesterday we had to go to South Kensington because my husband needed to have his eyes tested. It was his first train trip (my second) since lockdown started, so a very exciting if somewhat nervous undertaking. As it happened, everything went very smoothly – very few people anywhere, and most of those wearing masks. Uncomfortable, […]Read Post ›
Some thoughts. For HH Exactly a week ago as I write we were making our way from Cookham via Bagshot to Camberley Theatre to see a school production of the musical “War Torn” about the ‘futility of war and the difficulties faced by refugees when caught up in a war scenario.’ We had been invited […]Read Post ›
TTo continue on a nautical theme for a moment. I came home today in a bit of a rush as usual, and ravenous as usual, and with not a lot to eat in the house, also as usual. So choosing rapidly between a tub of cottage cheese and a slice of toast with Philadelphia I […]Read Post ›
Nail varnish. An extremely important part of my life. My mother had beautiful hands with perfectly painted fingernails. Always. One of my earliest memories is reaching for her hand and trying to find (unsuccessfully at first) the one without a cigarette in it. I took it, and held it and admired the shiny red. She […]Read Post ›
for HJ nee P For years I used to dream about this desk. It belonged to my father’s doctor, and I used to love watching the top roll up and down, revealing and hiding all his papers, at will. This feeling of immense latent power came back to me some months ago when we were […]Read Post ›
My father died on the 23rd November This is what I said at his funeral. It gives a tiny flavour of what he was like…. 96 years old and he was still my Tatus. My first memories of him are when he was in his late thirties and I was about three or four. […]Read Post ›
for AG September 1964: the first Wednesday of the school term. I was just about getting used to the dreariness of life in St Augustine’s. I hadn’t been there a week when I realised that every day was going to be the same after all the day girls had gone home. Tea (more on that […]Read Post ›
For KK How I wish there had been such a – or any – dating site when I was young. Telephones were securely tied to land lines – and how I used to pray that someone would ring my number – Knightsbridge 2009 – and whisk me off to a sublime evening of dinner and […]Read Post ›
