British Stuff . Covid Times . Music . My Father . Nostalgia
Radio, Radio
On January 17, 2021 by Speranza
In a never-ending attempt to escape the scourge that is known as The News, I convinced The General to join me in a random sampling of radio stations from around the world this week. We were looking for different. And, unapologetically cheering.
This led to reminiscing about my teen years spent on the Isle of Man (sandwiched handily between England and Ireland) and specifically, Christmas 1974 when I received my first transistor radio.
My father watched the unwrapping solemnly, telling me that this was a special radio with only a very few stations and since he had already set it to the best one, he strongly hinted that it was not to be changed. This Very Special Station was currently airing the Queen’s speech. Afterwards, I learned that I could rock out to the BBC World report and maybe even catch a few overviews of the Middle East later on. My dad seemed unusually pleased with himself.
Covid Times . Introspection . My Brothers . Sadness
Happy New Year, try not to laugh …
On January 8, 2021 by Speranza
Hard to write about anything today without commenting on the endlessly distressing news (er, and Happy New Year everyone) but I will now try to do that very thing. Those who know me, will testify that I have always been about savouring and appreciating The Small Things (even before it became fashionable to do so and we all had to read about the technique in someone’s bestselling book).
But truly, it really is all that we have.
British Stuff . Covid Times . Hope . My Mother . Nostalgia . The General
A New November
On November 10, 2020 by Speranza
Each year I dread November. As well as unconsciously shuffling through tightly compressed memories of my mother’s death (43 years ago) and all the associated bleakness both outside and within, I can hardly bear the early darkness that creeps in after a five o’clock sky, flecked with pink. I am flooded with memories of living in Britain and that particular deep reaching dampness that can only really be remedied with a large Scotch in a steaming bath. (And at seventeen, as now, I don’t even drink Scotch …)
Anxiety . Introspection
Getting Through January
On January 23, 2017 by Speranza
It’s been ages since I posted here and I have been wittering and fretting about whether or not to even continue the blog, but ultimately, it’s a good discipline for a writer and frankly, the most instant way I know to be published. Which is often satisfying. All of this can make one feel extremely down of course (particularly when combined with a nasty virus that has only just released its claws from me) and I have spent rather too much time dwelling on Donald Trump, my own money worries, Black Mirror which I will never watch again as I only slept 92 minutes after watching two episodes, Donald Trump again, repetitively bad Tarot card readings and the atrophying effect that lack of collagen is wreaking on my person, which I like to confirm daily by going to the worst lit mirror in our house and hanging upside down.
I believe that this act may be the evil twin of doing Positive Affirmations.
Oh, and also wondering if I should be scanning the Book of Revelation with a fresher, keener eye for detail since the world we are living in at the moment seems poised for something that is um, not greatness.
Anxiety . Darkness . Writers
Stop the World I Missed my Stop
On July 12, 2016 by Speranza
I’ve been stalling posting anything this week because I simply cannot write about anything vacuous without commenting on what a terrible few weeks this has been news wise; I’ve watched extensive news coverage on all the tragedy (and then follow-up tragedy) in Dallas, being vigilant to not watch any of the streaming or videos because I am someone’s mother and just cannot if I intend to function for the rest of the day.
This is not even considering the assorted terrorist atrocities.
I feel troubled, sick and totally helpless in equal parts.