I travel through the eyes of another, with glimpses of Gdańsk like these: They are my reward for arming my husband with this before he left for Poland: Snapshots are shared sporadically without much of a commentary (my husband is work-focused), so I try to discover more for myself. But it’s the new Museum of … More Glimpses of Gdańsk
I live a quiet life: minding the house and garden, managing moods (including my own, if I’m honest), and dealing with downpours. My husband and two youngest sons are in Portugal. They send photos of sun, sea and sand, along with a daily sprig of flowers. Which is thoughtful. For various reasons I have stayed … More Today is today, mañana is mañana
An old man stopped right by my husband and asked him a question. My husband was stretching post-run, in the way runners like to do, but trying to be discreet, in a little side lane. “Do you know what this used to be?” the old man asked, pointing to the building my husband was leaning … More Window history
There is nothing, zilch, nada left in the tank. I have hit a wall of fatigue (no big reason for it beyond a 24 hour period of intense parenting). So I surrender with a slump on the sofa and join my two youngest kids who are watching tv. I reach for my laptop and try to … More Brick wall
Quick is good. Jamie Oliver’s homemade tomato ketchup might well “blow my socks off” but his list of ingredients is too long, and I can’t be bothered to sieve twice. Why bother at all? Because a bottle of the shop-bought stuff lasts about a day in my house unless I hide it – which is … More Quick (is key) tomato ketchup
I expect that the idea of International Happiness Day 2018 will summon a sneer of disdain from my sceptical sixteen-year old (writes his cynical mother) … I learn about today’s significance in the village shop, where one fellow customer observes, “I’d quite like to be happy tomorrow as well.” Me too. The day isn’t going well in … More International Day of Happiness – really?
Too cold for running in German as sleet stings my face. I skate across snow-packed surfaces smoothed by sledges. I skip over small mounds where grass strains through. I stumble when I sink in surprises of deep white. As gusts of wind constantly sear my cheeks. All I can do is yank my hat down and pull … More Snow run in English (it’s too cold for German)
Snow run number 2, featuring my favourite Treeo. And a welcome pitstop at Otto’s coffee house. Before the snowball fight begins. I love them, but when will they go back to school? Schneelauf Nummer 1 here.
Suzanne and I meet in a café in Tunbridge Wells as I’m curious about her food venture (I’m hoping for a za’atar lesson too). Her daughter, Vera, is here to help with translation, although by the end of our meeting, Suzanne’s ready sense of humour persuades me that she understands more English than she thinks … More Al Bet Betak
I’m training for Berlin so I’m running in German. It’s a Schneelauf (snow run). I’m walking with my daughter so I’m talking in English. It’s a snow walk. I’m home warming up with a chocolate brownie bake-up. Good in any language.