You’ve arrived in Freiburg im Breisgau, south-west Germany. It’s been a long day (early flight … wrong bus … right bus … very busy train), and you and your other half want a drink. You stumble upon the Markthalle (market hall) in the old town. It’s packed. People shoulder their way through the crowds, choose … More The Bar
(On fufilling a promise made to my parents to empty their attic of all my stuff dating from before the time I had to grow up.) I begin the day with a walk in the rain, to get myself in the mood. I am sprayed by a succession of cars, I dart their drivers stern … More A day in the attic
There’s a mother and son I’ve not seen in a while. They’re regulars in the local park, like me. Except that they walk their dogs while I walk by myself. I’m not too fond of their dogs. They’re small and yappy, and the mother and her adult son don’t call them away when they pester … More A mother and her son
On Aide-Mémoires: Shopping Lists – An Exhibition Lists – for bread and beer, red and green apples, dark soy sauce and cajun spice. Word associations with ‘Martha is crackers‘ and ‘Mummy is nuts‘. A child’s script. A spidery hand. (Mis-)spellings. On paper shaped as a dress or jotted with music. On the back of an … More Does Alan want cheese?
I know a woman who sprays herself with perfume each time she goes for a run. Afterwards, she takes a shower and washes both sweat and fragrance away. I know a man whose right hand clenches into a fist when he runs. His left hand always remains relaxed, even when he tries to clench it … More On ‘Being young until you get old’.
On watching The Humans with my humans. (A movie by Stephen Karam that centres on the gathering of what some have called a ‘dysfunctional family’.) Six members of a multi-generational family gather together in Chinatown, Manhattan, at the newly acquired duplex of the youngest (adult) daughter, Brigid and her boyfriend, Richard. The building is old … More The Humans
A year ago, I wrote that the curators of the Mass Observation Archive were making their annual appeal for our 12th May diaries. Here we are again, twelve long yet quick months later, and the Project is keen to know how we have fared. Its aim remains to collect glimpses of our lives on one … More 12th May
(A short walk through a Sevenoaks churchyard) Hestor was a wife. She was remembered with love by her husband, after she died in 1802. Her gravestone still stands and her name is still legible, despite the threat of a colony of white spots. Other names are invisible, swept away by the elements. Or have dates … More Memories and Daffodils
Perhaps it started with Sister Laurie at St Joseph’s School in North Battleford, right in the middle of the Canadian prairies. Sister Laurie was petite and neat and the gentlest soul. When I was six and the new girl from the Old World, she was my teacher. She welcomed me into her classroom and nobody … More (Bewitched by) Nuns
In anticipation of later. I’m not a poet, but I am weary, so this is the best I can do. … More Friday Night PX
Have Paprika, Will Travel 