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 ›
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 ›
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 ›
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 ›
from KM What do you remember about your very first day in the classroom? My first proper teaching job, with a proper contract was in Esher College. I’ve written fairly recently about my interview there, and how surprised I was to get the job. But that hurdle over, my Head of Department, Helena Fotherby, then […]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 ›
What can I remember? Probably not a lot and I can’t vouch for the accuracy of the actual memories, but I do remember my first form teacher. Mrs Nurse. She was very old and very tall and very grey haired and very nice. She taught my class English. But she was actually a PE teacher, and […]Read Post ›
(Footnote to First Night at St Augustine’s) When I went to Saint Augustine’s, it was a weekly boarding school. My father had wanted me to go to a catholic one and he searched high and low for one that was within a reasonable distance of where he lived, and which was cheap. It was a […]Read Post ›
I’m afraid I can’t actually remember it. It must have been September 1959. I was just six. I should have been seven, but somewhere along the line I missed a year. I moved up from Marlborough Infants School, putting Mrs Brock and Mrs Edwards safely behind me. A lot of my friends came with me […]Read Post ›
One day I was happy standing on a table (the best punishment ever), daydreaming out of the window, and the next day I didn’t have a school to go to. My grandmother had come to collect me with the big box of Black Magic – sadly not for me but my teacher, and then she […]Read Post ›
Life Through Basia's Eyes 