Art for Art's Sake . Childhood . Music . My Mother
The Accordion at my House
On March 13, 2023 by SperanzaObviously not me …
When I was about 8 years old, a salesman knocked on our door (yes, this actually used to happen!) and I galloped excitedly to be the one who answered. As the door opened, I saw a man so good looking, I gaped openly. With his dark, slicked back hair (think: Don Draper selling accordions) and a lanky, cool confidence he made the accordion slung across his shoulder seem like the piano’s bad-ass, edgier cousin.
And, he politely looked around the door for my mother and gestured because he wanted to talk to me, particularly!
Introspection
A Good Day
On January 25, 2023 by Speranza
Earlier in the week, I gave myself permission to do whatever I liked. This is advice I frequently dole out to friends but rarely follow myself. I was free to squander time without paying heed to that mean inner voice which is poised and ready at any time of day or (especially) night to remind me that I should be more productive.
Or more attractive. Or more physically fit. Or more assertive. Or more of a risk taker, depending on the day.
But on this day, I allowed myself some simple, spontaneous “sparkles” one after another – fun, random things that seem too frivolous to happen regularly but really, why not? And we’re not talking white water rafting here or jumping out of a plane.
Just tiny pops of languid reading and relaxing.
Food . Gardening . Nostalgia
Strawberries are Here!
On June 27, 2022 by Speranza
Every year I really look forward to the changing seasons and enjoying certain foods at their peak, in-season best. Asparagus and rhubarb herald the beginning of spring of course and provide some much-needed colour and hope, but for me, nothing compares to the luscious, once-a-year taste of fresh strawberries.
Like tomatoes, I used to forget each year how desperately terrible a January strawberry is going to be. Tumbling across the miles in order to garnish a dessert plate (which already makes me feel like a privileged brat), these ruby-faced imposters, often unyielding to the teeth, taste like tiny turnips (or worse, nothing at all) and are eerily white at their inner core.
So for many years now, this has culminated in a no (fresh) strawberries edict here, once the season is over.
Nostalgia
Reel-to-Reel
On August 6, 2021 by Speranza
I’m sure that there is a name for that strange component of our brains that maintains a special vault for certain feelings or thoughts and then trundles them forward for examination sometimes quite unexpectedly. I most often experience this via my sense of smell: one minute I could be hurtling along, making a grocery list in my head – broccoli, yogurt, tinned tomatoes – and the next minute, the sweet smell of clover, a distinctive floral note I always associate with British summer is carried to me on the breeze and suddenly I’m sixteen, lying in the long grasses slow kissing a boy with eyes the colour of river pebbles. And yes, my stomach flips over a little bit just for a second or two then it’s gone.
Tales from the Public Library
The Time Tunnel
On January 23, 2021 by Speranza
I’ve worked in public libraries both in Canada and the Isle of Man for more than half of my life – so needless to say, I have seen some … things. Working with the public in any capacity is often challenging but at the library, I believe the true stress comes with constantly having to alternate between positive and not so positive situations: helping two likeable, intellectual older women choose fiction titles; angry curmudgeons demanding addresses for subsequent angry letters they intend to write; a shy toddler sliding a drawing of a lovely pink dragon across the desk; and then a clearly agitated person demanding assistance in locating his brother who, he informs me is a headhunter now. And the crumpled magazine picture he shows me of his ‘brother’ holding a spear is clearly more of a, shall we say, traditional headhunter, and not the Human Resources type you may be thinking of.
And of course he doesn’t know his name.