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 ›
I have a lot of antique jewellery left over from when my mother tried her hand at being an antique dealer, and ran a little stall in the vintage market Antiquarius in the Kings Road in Chelsea. That was a very exciting and beautiful place and I loved going there to help. There was also […]Read Post ›
I had a lovely day today. We went to my youngest daughter’s for a delicious lunch, made by her fiancé – husband to be in two weeks, eek, and accompanied by his mother and uncle and my son. The only person I was sad was not there, was my eldest daughter, but she’s just moved […]Read Post ›
For the Mhinisteir’s wife Today is the sixth of December. For me the real beginning of the Christmas season. This was the day when good children were given a little present and naughty children a birch rod. One year my mother gave me a rod. It was very small and gilded. Very pretty. But a […]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 ›
It was a very cold morning. I’d been up half the night with my insomniac two year old son, and now was trying to get my act together in our tiny cottage in Grove Road. I think it was snowing outside and Kasia was full of beans wanting to go out. Jacek had gone to […]Read Post ›
For MMoving home for many people is high on the list of traumatic experiences. I haven’t moved for over thirty years so cannot really remember the trauma, only the expectation of living in a better place, the excitement of something new. Having said that I realise it isn’t actually altogether true. I was on my […]Read Post ›
When I was very tiny I was sent to a private nursery school where I was a boarder. This was a traumatic time for my parents and for me because they couldn’t afford to look after me by themselves in London. At the time, however, it wasn’t considered such a shocking thing as there were many […]Read Post ›
For KGK who has just been to Florence and it reminded me of my time there. In April 1976 I went to Florence for a fortnight with my mother’s husband, Zbyszek. The year before he had come out to Spain to visit me on my year abroad and had enjoyed himself so much that he […]Read Post ›
Life Through Basia's Eyes 