Living Between the Lines
A wry look at family life
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A letter from the past…
This letter came into my possession recently, It was sent to my mother, a few days before her wedding to my father, Denis, in October 1948. I remember Aunt Gert but only vaguely. My paternal grandfather, Victor, was one of eight children and he and at least two of his siblings, died in 1968 when I was 11/12 years old. Memories of sitting outside the church in the car, during what seemed to be an endless series of funerals, abound. So, finding this letter gave me quite a jolt. Knowing my mother’s love of dogs makes it all the more special. The letter itself is quite hard to decipher, so…
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Those Senior moments
You know you are getting old when you gather dog lead, phone and poo bags, ready for a walk with your faithful old Golden Retriever, and five minutes later, realise you cannot find your phone. Phone has completely disappeared. Phone cannot be rung from landline because it is on silent and out of signal. Dog grows ever more impatient, so you decide you will resume the search on your return. Friend takes her phone with her so should there be an emergency (dog collapsing or photograph needing to be taken) friend has it covered. Returning some 40 mins later from a walk that used to take Dog half the time,…
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It’s official…
…I have been elevated to official ‘Old Dog’, status in the family. Now, how on earth did that happen? I began this blog almost 12 years ago as a lively, forward thinking, pup. I was proud of my ability to escape from anywhere. No fence was too high, no hedge too thick…um, well, there was one hedge in which I got stuck, but we won’t dwell on that. (If you must, you can read all about here).A Twist in the Tail The fact remains that I have gone from being that cute bundle of fun, to this staid old lady. One thing I have not lost, is my appetite. On…
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Summer’s End
What a way to bring summer to a close! The past three weekends have been amazing. After more than 18 months of restrictions and lockdowns we opened up our garden and finally got friends and family together in one place. 1st: Came my youngest son’s 30th birthday party which he held in our garden (30, How did that happen?) – It was a far cry from the teenage parties of yesteryear! The thing about 30 year olds is, they are grown up and they willingly help tidy up afterwards. 2nd: Lisa’s 50th birthday party – also held in our garden with the same marquee, this time with a pizza van…
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Going up in the world!
I have moved up in the world (upstairs to be precise). My desk and files are now sitting in a spare front bedroom, (the bed being replaced by a sofa bed). This will be my new ‘study’. I love it already. The move was probably long overdue, I am no longer the only one in the house during the day. My husband and my dear friend, have both set up office space in the house. Lockdown is easing but my dear husband is showing no signs of wanting to make the daily journey to the office and much as I like meeting him for a coffee or lunch during the…
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When Inspiration Strikes…
A trip back to my late mother’s house in Essex, unearthed a real gem recently. The small, blue, notebook was crammed with recipes, some written on the pages in her neat, cursive hand, others culled from newspapers and bearing stories of mystery and intrigue on the back of a recipe for peanut butter cookies and trifle. These stories are sometimes just a headline, sometimes whole paragraphs…never the whole story. What a feast for the imagination! My mother started collecting the recipes when she married my father in October 1948, perhaps even before that! Having survived all these years, the pages are yellowed and worn with time but there is a…
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The Real Ghost Girl
Having drawn on my own childhood for part of the Ghost Girl at Angel Cottage, I thought it only fair to relate one of the events that led me to write this story in the first place. It was a warm summer’s day back in the early sixties. I was probably about 6 years old or perhaps younger, playing on the stone steps set in my Grandparents’ back garden, in the village of Writtle. Cottages lay either side of us. My grandparents’ house was set back from the road, behind wrought iron railings. (A sad tale (tail) occurred here, during the war when the railings were removed for the war…
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It’s a Mystery
Embarrassing? Or have I cemented my reputation as being the dippiest person in the family? Hmm. Let me begin at the beginning, It is still February 2021 as I write… Flossie was a brave dog. She underwent surgery to remove a nasty tumour from her mouth. In true Flossie style, she is uncomplaining, but the operation means that when she is let out to perform her ablutions, she must be on a lead. There is to be no running into bushes or trying to chew logs (a favourite pastime of hers). So, early this morning, a Saturday, I came downstairs, still clad in night attire and wearing a dressing gown,…
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Memories pre- lockdown
Despite the snow we had today and the long wait for Spring, vaccines and freedom, it is always a treat to find a memory that has lain forgotten amongst my files. Today, I found such a memory, written during one of our past visits to Portugal…reading it it makes me thirsty for more! ******************************************************************************************* Ragged palm leaves feathered against the cobalt sky, a crisp, white sun refusing to budge from its perch on the spine of next door’s roof. Heat bringing rivulets of sweat and hot rasping breath with it as it travels through the villa. There is no wind nor a kind and understanding summer breeze to relieve us.…
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The Angel
A quick story that may make your spine tingle… When clearing out my late mother’s house a few weeks ago, I found the Christmas Angel which had adorned our childhood Christmas trees for as long as I could remember. This, the angel who inspired the very angel mentioned in my novel, The Ghost Girl at Angel Cottage. Naturally, I was moved to keep the angel. This morning, having put up our Christmas tree, a little early for me this year (like many, I wanted to shrug off the current restrictions and threats with some early Christmas cheer) I stood back to admire it and realised that there was one thing…
