There is no law, no rules or regulation that say that you have to love, like or even get on with your siblings. As a mother of four, I would be horrified if my children didn’t at least like, rub along with and support each other. Horrified.
But my relationship with my brother was far from harmonious. Continue reading “Oh Deer, Oh Deer”
In my mind there are three types of campers. The itinerant workers travelling around wherever work takes them, using only tiny tents to sleep in or renting site caravans; those that are looking for cheaper holidays, eating and sleeping in camper vans loaded with bicycles; and those few who enjoy the actual art of camping – the joy of sleeping under canvas, eating under starry skies and enjoying the feeling of being outdoors, far removed from the urban life of bricks and mortar. I would count myself in the latter category with a few provisos. Continue reading “Starry, Starry Nights”
I find myself sighing a great deal more as I get older. We seem to be bombarded by gloom and doom on all fronts – Brexit, Trump, numerous wars, heatwaves, fires, floods, refugee crises, Brexit. Perhaps that’s why, in urban areas, people closet themselves into their own worlds, head phones on, mobiles in hand, unaware of either their surroundings or the people. Even Dog is on high alert these days when we travel by tube in case unaware feet land on his tail or paws. Continue reading “It’s My Birthday And I’ll Sigh If I Want To”
My first experience of American serving sizes came in the summer of 77. We were taking a circuitous journey back to the UK after a three year posting in Hong Kong with our four year old son.
Continue reading “Having a Beef”
In the 80s I was living in London, pursuing a corporate career with an American telecommunications giant. It was the era of the business lunch. Three or four course meals in darkly panelled dining rooms with silver service, obsequious waiters, smarming sommeliers, and alcohol in abundance. Continue reading “How Green is my Lunch?”
Puddings, Desserts, Sweets or Afters, there’s always been a wide variety of ways as how to end a meal, never mind what to call them. Your choices will in the main part depend on where you grew up. Continue reading “Chill or Hot with Apricot.”
As a Channel Islander, wariness of the sea has been ingrained since childhood. Regular three hour ferry trips from Weymouth to visit my family in Guernsey taught me that the English Channel was not always calm. Neither was the sea passage between Holyhead and Dun Laoghaire when we moved to Dublin for a year in the late 50s. Continue reading “I do like to be by the seaside”
“My salad days. When I was green in judgment, cold in blood.” Anthony & Cleopatra, William Shakespeare.
Salads in the 50s meant lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers with the occasional spring onion thrown in. Once a week, nursery tea was a salad accompanied by tinned pilchards or tinned pink salmon – red salmon was reserved for special occasions. Sardines, well sardines as Fiona’s post describes, were to be spread on toast. Continue reading “Salad Days”
Why do some people have a sweet tooth and others don’t? Both my parents were born during the First World War when the Germans U-boats cut off Britain from much of its supplies. Food products included potatoes and sugar were particularly affected. By the end of 1917, people began to fear that the country was running out of food and started panic buying – and this, in turn, led to shortages. Therefore in January 1918, the Ministry of Food decided to introduce rationing and sugar was first on their list. Continue reading “A Particular Sweet Tooth”
As a child in the 50s, it was normal to pass by the butcher’s window and see the furry corpses of rabbits and indeed hares swinging on hooks. Continue reading “Where Has All The Rabbit Gone?”