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 ›
There is no justification! If ever a teacher had a catchphrase then this was it. You couldn’t make a mistake – there was no justification! as Mademoiselle Louise Vartoukian had carefully taught you how to avoid it. I have never come across anyone so thorough, before or since. I sometimes feel I could reproduce […]Read Post ›
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 ›
Life Through Basia's Eyes 