Tag: nostalgia

Uncategorized

Of Baths and Bathing

On January 11, 2026 by

Having a bath has always been one of life’s true pleasures for me. Stoically, I find that bubbles and froth are unnecessary and I don’t need granular highly-scented spheres on a string either: just lots of hot water to ease myself down into and somewhere to put my drink. Recently, Frasier gave me one of those candles that crackles like a wood fire and sometimes I will light that as well if I am feeling particularly fancy.

In recent years, I do make sure that I have some good quality soap: either the translucent amber of Pears or French-milled, a perfectly smooth block stamped with ‘Provence” and perfumed with violets, vanilla or fig. This sounds like a high maintenance diva talking but truly, it’s only late in life that I have justified such luxuries. I suddenly realized that no one, absolutely no one, is going to step forward and insist that I “treat myself”- so now that responsibility rests solely with me.

(Which is completely fine because I am definitely going to make it happen!)

Read More
Food . Gardening . Nostalgia

Strawberries are Here!

On June 27, 2026 by

 

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.

Read More
Nostalgia

Reel-to-Reel

On August 6, 2026 by

 

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.

Read More
Tales from the Public Library

The Time Tunnel

On January 23, 2026 by

 

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.

Read More
British Stuff . Covid Times . Music . My Father . Nostalgia

Radio, Radio

On January 17, 2026 by

 

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, it was broadly understood 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.

Read More
1 2 3 … 6