May 5th 1979, I am at my mother’s flat in Elm Park Gardens, getting myself ready for my wedding. The flat is teeming with people. My mother, my stepfather, a friend who is sewing me into my headdress – we thought it would be so easy – my father who is wearing two vests very […]Read Post ›
For all my family and friends. To write, or not to write. A Christmas reflection or newsletter, that is. This year has been so busy that I have sadly neglected many people – I’m sorry. I think of you all when I wake up in the small hours, and am consumed with guilt. So, I […]Read Post ›
Today would have been her 93rd birthday. In this photo, taken on her little sister’s fiftieth, she was fifty six. That smile remained with her to the end. I can’t remember the actual sound of her laugh, I’ve just realised, but the smile is unforgettable. And she smiled a lot. That radiant lipstick. Dior no […]Read Post ›
I just found this book on my shelf after many years and was enchanted all over again by the sweetness of the cover. The illustrator is Margery Gill. The back cover is no less delightful. I received this book for Christmas when I was ten. I remember choosing it with the woman who gave it […]Read Post ›
Thirty years ago my stepfather died very suddenly. He was sixty one. 14 years later my mother followed him. In this photo they are in front of Sheffield City Hall just after my graduation in 1976. He is forty five. My mother is 47. He is the slimmest he’s ever been. That day was one […]Read Post ›
Wednesday. And we’re off again. Is there anything more stressful than packing on a hot day to go somewhere even hotter. Luckily there is lots of time and I actually did most of my own packing yesterday. Work expands to fit the time available so I spent all day, running! Up and down the stairs, […]Read Post ›
When I was very small my paternal grandmother used to talk about going to the Prater, the ancient Viennese funfair with a giant ferris wheel. I never really understood what she was talking about, as the Polish words for Vienna and prison were virtually interchangeable in my childish mind – I knew she had lived […]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 ›
No longer with us, my father loved a Christmas hat. With embellishments. I used to find it really irritating. Now I miss it. He was the most intensely social being. When I was tiny I can remember people frequently coming round to our flat in Talgarth Road to play bridge or hearts or just for […]Read Post ›
When I was eighteen I went to Poland for six weeks. It was a great turning point in my life, as up till then I had been very shy, very nervous, lacking in confidence and with very few independent skills. I was clever and well read, but that was about it. I left school after […]Read Post ›
Life Through Basia's Eyes 