Bittersweet Memories

The problem with being old – or as old as I am – is that there’s an overabundance of memories.

Continue reading Bittersweet Memories


Family Holidays of Old

For the children, it’s the first glimpse of the sea.  They know when it will come, but fight even so to be the one to call it.  Then we all break into song Si si si si doloda, yaku sineladu banaha.   Continue reading Family Holidays of Old

Footloose And Fancy Free

Travelling on my own – seeing people like I used to be: stressed.

When I missed the train into town from the airport by less than a second and it, with relentless Teutonic efficiency, closed on my nose and drew away on the dot, I didn’t tell myself I was stupid for being slow, or that it was unfair. I found somewhere to sit in that featureless underground station and I read my book (Arnold Bennett’s Old Wives’ Tale, if you’re interested, and I’m loving it). A family next to me also missed the train. The parents spoke with strained voices, blaming one another. That used to be me. Horrible. Continue reading Footloose And Fancy Free