All Purls. No Swine.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat: Certain is it that there is no kind of affection so purely angelic as of a father to a daughter. In love to our wives there is desire; to our sons, ambition; but to our daughters, there is something which there are no words to express. So said Joseph Addison, seventeenth-century essayist,… Continue reading Happy Father’s Day, 2024!
Into each life, some rain must fall. But not into ours. Our lives are where the garbage is delivered. — Jenny Today (June 10) is Jenny's birthday, and it's been three years since I first posted this here. In her honor, I'm proud to do so again: Ever have one of those days, weeks, months,… Continue reading Quote of the Day, June 10, 2024: On Life’s Vicissitudes
I first published this post five years ago, on June 6, 2019–the seventy-fifth anniversary–when Auntie Pat was still alive (she was 95 at the time). I really miss her: June 5, 2019: I just got off the phone with her and–shameless self-promotion alert–she’ll be 96 next month, and is my Dad’s last surviving sibling. I phoned her… Continue reading Five Years On: Auntie Pat on Operation Overlord
Eighty years ago today, on June 4, 1944, my father marched into Rome, his British Army regiment having been seconded alongside Mark Clark's Fifth Army. (What Dad had to say, from a personal standpoint, about General Clark doesn't bear thinking about.) My mother always pooh-poohed the whole thing (not unusual for Mum to do something… Continue reading June 4-5, 1944: It’s 80 Years Since Dad Marched into Rome and Met the Pope
A reprise, in large part, of a previous post, updated with more recent concerns, the most immediate of which has been this weekend, or even just this morning. One of my favorite childhood stories was that of The Town Mouse and The Country Mouse. There's never been any doubt in my mind which side of… Continue reading The Gift That Keeps On Giving–In Praise of Dowsers
A recent conversation on Ricochet brought to mind a post I wrote in the Dark Ages of social media, in this case, in 2012. Twelve years ago. And it's still there and available to the members, although it can't be viewed on the public Internet. I'm about to fix that. I wrote it just after… Continue reading Why I’ll Always Have a Soft Spot for Bill Clinton, No Matter What
On this April 16, 2024, a day that would have been my grandmother Molly's 126th birthday, I bring back a post originally published on Ricochet on April 16--Easter Sunday--2017. Happy Birthday, Granny! My grandmother Molly could be a rather stern old lady. She was born when Queen Victoria was still on the throne, on April… Continue reading On Granny. Oh, and On Chocolate, Too. And a Few Other Things As Well
With very few exceptions over the years, I’ve never minded being defined in terms of my familial relationships. Dad’s daughter. Mr. Right's wife. Peachy’s granny. Sam, Mike and Jenny’s stepmother. I’ve never thought of myself as an appendage or a cipher, nor do I function as anybody’s foil. Although by no means perfect, I’m generally… Continue reading The Stepmother Diaries, 2024
Kenneth Tynan. He was right about critics. He was (She said, hopefully) probably speaking from a perspective of age and experience. One of my emails this morning informed me that February 25, 2024 is the 53rd anniversary of the opening, at New York’s Belasco Theatre, of Oh, Calcutta!, a play written by, among others, Kenneth Tynan. Tynan, one… Continue reading “A Critic is a Man Who Knows the Way, But Can’t Drive the Car”
Sixty-three years ago today, my idyllic life as an only child came to an end and I began the rest of my life as a sibling. We were living in Mubi, in the British Cameroons which was, at the time, administered as a United Nations Trust Territory. In a few short months, a plebiscite would… Continue reading “Two Different Faces”–Happy Birthday, Sis!