It’s that time of year, when I realise that I still have some of last year’s written but not sent Christmas cards in a box somewhere, this year’s unwritten ones in a box in my bag, no stamps, no time, posting deadlines past, the Christmas tree is up but not quite finished, the food shopping […]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 ›
Happy birthday, Ciocia. Today you would have been 89. Aged about 2, in Lwów. Today’s date will stick in many Londoners minds, because of the London bombings 20 years ago. I remember the day well because I had taken some children on a school trip, and we were supposed to come back to school by […]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 ›
I love Mother’s Day, always have done, ever since I was a child and taken to buy flowers for my mother. My stepfather would take me to Alice’s Flowers in South Kensington Arcade and we would usually buy a tiny bunch of violets or perhaps mimosa. I don’t remember seeing either of those in florists’ nowadays. My […]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 ›
Life Through Basia's Eyes 