Some travels rouse a far greater depth of feeling than others. For example, a gentle meander through the chateaux and vineyards of Normandy and Burgundy could not be compared to visits made to Buchenvald, Auschwitz and Dachau. And being in battle-scarred Santiago at the time of Allende was light years away from the mere doddle…
As the saga of the postcards continues I have at last struck some sort of common thread. And it’s all about horses. Not all that deep and meaningful but at least it is a consistent theme extending over several of these messages of long ago. For once during my trawl through these newly discovered…
On the tarmac at Beirut International Airport: a Comet 4C of MEA So, moving right along … The next postcard to take my eye among my recently discovered trove of long-lost messages home was another bog standard picture of an aircraft. This one is dressed in the livery of MEA, or Middle East Airlines, the…
Concorde: up, up and away. If there is any validity in the saying that “every picture is worth a thousand words” then my hoard of old postcards could generate sufficient information to create an entire book. Whether of fact or fiction is open to debate. As reported in previous posts on this topic, two attempts…
Souvenir of a visit that is beyond recall Yesterday’s gone. But it lingers on, the details not forgotten unless it was one of those total wipe-out booze-laden occasions. Same for last week, the month that has passed and, hopefully, the highlights at least, of the year before this one. All are within recall in varying degrees…
Family history never ceases to surprise and delight. It is an endless journey into the unexpected. Skeletons leap from cupboards and sudden contacts from hitherto strangers breath life into people who so far have been mere names clinging precariously to the family tree. This week, emails from out of the blue have unearthed another bag…
On the tarmac at Beirut International Airport: a Comet 4C of MEA SO, moving right along … The next postcard to take my eye among my recently discovered trove of long-lost messages home was another bog standard picture of an aircraft. This one is dressed in the livery of MEA, or Middle East Airlines, the…
If there is any validity in the saying that “every picture is worth a thousand words” then my hoard of old postcards could generate sufficient information to create an entire book. Whether of fact or fiction is open to debate. As reported in previous posts on this topic, two attempts to match the facts recorded…
An author who has been using a software program to “edit” her novel has now accepted my quote to complete the job. As she commented in her email confirming the arrangement: Although ProWritingAid has trained me to write better English, it cannot – make words flow like you can give feedback pick up loopholes get…
Souvenir of a visit that is beyond recall. Yesterday’s gone. But it lingers on, the details not forgotten unless it was one of those total wipe-out booze-laden occasions. Same for last week, the month that has passed and, hopefully, the highlights at least, of the year before this one. All are within recall in varying degrees…