Monthly Archives: November 2012

in vodka veritas

My Mum could never pronounce the word ‘menstruation’. It always came out as ‘menu-stration’. (Can you tell echoes here of an attempt at a bird-and-bees talk? “I’ll have to tell you, because he won’t”. ‘He’ being my father, a quiet, … Continue reading

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Parliamo Pasta

Auntie Penny popped into my head today, completely derailing my train of thought. There I was, walking along in the autumn sunshine, minding my own business, when suddenly, like Mr Dick with King Charles the First, there she was. In … Continue reading

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Another ‘remembrance day’

I bought my poppy last night from a decorated old soldier in the shop where I bought my cabbage and peppers on the way home from Send, and pinned it to my jacket this morning as I prepared to leave … Continue reading

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Fencing boobs

It’s strange how a half-forgotten name, or just a song, can trigger a set of old memories. Sometimes melancholy, other times humorous. This one is of the latter. I hope the women who are its subjects will not object to … Continue reading

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An unexpected milestone.

Saturday is always my day to go for a long walk, no matter what walking I may have done during the week, and no matter what the weather may argue otherwise. It’s my day to walk to Send, and take … Continue reading

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