We aged ones have been called many things: dustys, crumblies, wrinklies, crinklies, old bats, etc. and many much ruder names I wouldn’t dream of typing. The scoffers forget that very likely they, too, will be an old trout one day.
On November 8, 2018, Blessed Michał Giedroyć was officially confirmed, with his Feast Day fixed on May 4th. Always known as “Blessed” Mike in the family, the inverted commas can now be omitted.
On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month the Armistice was signed to end the First World War, one-hundred years ago.
We all know of people who are not formally canonised and who by our reckoning should be. Can I put in for my late mother-in-law and a host of her friends who suffered at the hands of the Soviets in the wastes of Siberia during the last war?
Naturally greedy, the idea of making my own Lebanese dishes led me to purchase a small tagine.
I read BH’s book “Crater’s Edge” so many times, both when he was writing it and later after it was published, I reckon I know it almost by heart. Now I am listening to it, a very different experience.
There are insufficient words to describe the worldwide scandal of abuse — who would have believed such a thing thirty years ago? I try to imagine what my mother, or BH’s mother, would have made of it.
“Prepare to hurl boulders!”
Not so very long ago I remember loose sugar being weighed into stout paper bags; likewise tea and other dry goods, like rice. Very little was pre-packed. We didn’t all die of food poisoning either.
“Gesamtkunstwerk.” That’s the word I’m looking for!