A week in heaven

The holiday draws closer, and I’ve got that fizzy feeling of excitement which has been rather lacking for a while and has taken me by surprise. Not that I’m blasé about going on holiday – far from it, as I’ve not been away-away since 2002 – but I thought I was much too Grown Up […]

A little bit of me…

This is a bad time of year.  Well, it’s the worst time of year. My internal clock tick-tocks towards the day that my mother died. The Anniversary, I suppose one calls it. Four years.  It hardly seems possible it will be four years. Grief is not something for which there is a timetable.  I was […]

The Designer Suit

My mama used to buy me clothes, which were presented with a shrugged shoulder and a muttered “you won’t like it”. On occasion, she was absolutely right: some quite dreadful garment would be unveiled, found in a catalogue or while browsing in the closest thing to a boutique in the local town. I’d smile with […]

The Rural Idyll

It’s hard to explain the place where I live.  Okay, the specifics are easy: it’s a little place, a hamlet, in South Warwickshire, nestling in the bosom of Bard country (which always makes me smile: hamlet/Hamlet). No shop. No pub. A phonebox (which doesn’t take coins and which nobody uses, anyway).  A letterbox.  A pond.  […]

The Two Blondes, part II

During the magical time of growing up with Sally and the time she and I spent nearly running wild in Tobago, there was a major excitement. The arrival of Britannia during a stately tour of the West Indies. Which threw the Grown Ups into a fever. Sally and I had no idea what Britannia was. […]

The Two Blondes

I met Sally when we were 3 . By a swimming pool. In Tobago. My parents were on holiday. I learned to swim, which was a moment of huge excitement that I still remember: the freedom of swimming ONE WHOLE LENGTH without the silly armbands, and then swimming underwater with my eyes open. Beside the […]

A diary of One Day, written for my father

My papa was so pleased – and, dare I say it?, awfully proud – when I sent him a copy of the letter saying I’d been nominated to receive an invitation to a Garden Party at Buckingham Palace.  He asked me to do a diary of the day (he’s so deaf that TELLING him about […]