Childhood . Music . My Mother . Nostalgia
Club Django and More
On October 9, 2016 by Speranza
Last week a friend (actually, two separate friends, who both know me well) invited me to come along and hear Club Django. I do love hearing bands play live and I particularly like this kind of music but sometimes it seems like too much trouble after a long day at work and the concept of coming home and going out again seems unbearable.
Still, as noted here before, I find Klezmer (or so-called ‘Gypsy Jazz’) reliably cheering so my friends collected me at the especially odd time of 2pm and we moved out of the glinty sunshine into a darker venue to catch Club Django in concert.
And from the opening notes, I was so, so happy that I did.
Grey Divorce . The General . Travel
Maine Deconstructed
On July 28, 2016 by Speranza
The General and I are just back from Old Orchard Beach in Maine which is the sleepy, predictable kind of holiday that I often really enjoy. The lush, yet austere landscape of Maine and the cottage itself are hugely significant to The General since he has enjoyed many golden-hued summers there as a child and because it’s still a property that is “family owned” you can sense the tradition and memory as the key turns in the lock.
The very first time I was here and the door creaked opened to the warm – but not unpleasant – smell of humidity and age, I was nearly overcome with a sense of Those-Who-have-Gone-Before-Us.
It was just like being invited to a crazy, crowded party where everyone has convened in the kitchen, chatting loudly and you have to enter sideways with your bottle of wine, introducing yourself.
Except that the kitchen was empty.
I am often very sensitive to this type of thing so I wasn’t unduly freaked out and besides, the vibe was friendly enough but it did serve to re-ignite a really unsettling feeling that I often experience now which is being super conscious that I am still, and possibly always will be, The New Girl.
And what can I do? There’s simply not enough time for me to be fully accepted and it makes me acutely aware that I no longer have the extended family that I was comfortable with when I myself was married. Strangely, for example, I knew my ex-husbands’ parents more than twice as long as my own.
I am not a fan of this feeling but don’t know what to do about it.
I often feel as though as I am driving a motor boat and pulling behind me three decades of memories that just won’t drop the line.
British Stuff . Food . Nostalgia
Talkin’ About My Maceration
On June 28, 2016 by Speranza
It’s become very fashionable to make a big statement about eating “locally” and “seasonally” but many of us have been doing this as a matter of common sense for years. Strawberries, for example; obviously, they are available year round but how to compare a strawberry that arrives in the grocery store pale and grumbly from all that travelling with the sweet, deeply red jewels we’re savoring this month?
(And, unlike their winter counterparts, these summer fellows do not have the unfortunate texture of a raw potato).
Even within the (almost daily, I confess) samplings of strawberries that I have been eating there’s a wide swoon factor between local and really local; these are the almost black-red, luscious little pillows that have no hint of tartness and adding cream or cake or anything else seems to impinge on their pure, clean taste.
There’s nothing like them is there?
Cooking . Gardening . My Mother . Nostalgia . Spring
Rhubarb Crowns!
On April 15, 2016 by Speranza
Finally! There is hope for spring! Today the air was soft and warm again and I scampered outside to assess the progress of my garden before work and noticed that all the rhubarb crowns (I love calling them this) are pushing through the frozen ground, stretching up their tiny garnet arms and tightly compressed buds for anyone who cares to see them. (I always think of ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ and Audrey II when I first see these …)
But this is the first genuine sign of spring and I am greatly heartened.
I understand (well actually, I don’t really understand ) but I hear, that there are those who are completely indifferent to rhubarb but to me, it’s a delicious taste that is easily overlooked and available for such a short season; and the colour alone! That clear, deep, jeweled pink unlike no other, is so beautiful, particularly when combined with strawberries.
And, speaking of strawberries, I have seen many confirmed rhubarb-haters change their minds rather quickly over a piece of lattice-topped rhubarb-strawberry pie with a scoop of ginger infused ice-cream or some English custard. (Or both, let’s be honest here!)
Being A Girl . My Mother . Nostalgia . Poetry
Piano – D.H.Lawrence
On April 10, 2016 by Speranza
As the snows swirls sideways across my window, I re-read this poem and fall in love with D.H.Lawrence all over again. I feel as though his poetry is not celebrated as much as his so-called “dirty books” but to me, the poems are heady scraps of wisdom and depth, showing what a sensitive, insightful and thoughtful person he really was.
This poem is especially poignant to me because as a very young child, I remember crouching at the top of the stairs, hours after I had been sent to bed and straining my ears to catch what my parents and their friends (probably slightly tipsy) were singing as my mother played our stylin’, state-of-the-art Sixties organ and everyone sang along.