March is Dewithon Month #Dewithon. You can read about this celebration of literary Wales at the link We are all invited to join in and I thought it was about time I did especially as this project – now in its 5th year – is the work of The Book Jotter whose weekly post of literary links always gets my weekend…
It’s that time of the month – #6degrees again. Read about it here and join in. Play the animation and the book chain will appear! Our start point is Judy Blume. Her Are you there God? It’s Me Margaret (1970) was a bit of a sensation in the children’s lit world because it shockingly dared to mention the unmentionable (menstruation!…
They say the war is over. But water still Comes bloody from the taps. from ‘Redeployment,’ Howard Nemerov In April 1961 the BBC Light program broadcast the first episode of a new radio drama: The Avenue Goes to War. It was based on the R. F. Delderfield novel of the same name. It’s the story of one suburban street in…
Lament In December December’s come and all is dead; Weep, woods, for summer far has sped And leaves rot in the valley bed. Grey-blue and gaunt the oak-boughs spread Mourn through a mist their leafage shed. December, season of the dead! Brown-golden, scarlet, orange-red Autumn’s bright hues are faded, fled. December, season of the dead! Robert Graves For Robert Graves…
I thought of going back to France, but realised the absurdity of the notion. Since 1916, the fear of gas obsessed me: any unusual smell, even a sudden strong smell of flowers in a garden, was enough to send me trembling. And I couldn’t face the sound of heavy shelling now; the noise of a car back-firing would send me flat…
Some strolls have a destination. And so it was on the day we crossed the park by Harlem Meer at 110th Street, wandered by the chrysanthemums in glorious bloom in the Conservatory Garden and on to the Met Museum for its “World War I and the Visual Arts” exhibit. It’s a great exhibit. So much to see and so much to wonder…
Before the Charge The night is still and the air is keen, Tense with menace the time crawls by, In front is the town and its homes are seen, Blurred in outline against the sky. The dead leaves float in the sighing air, The darkness moves like a curtain drawn, A veil which the morning sun will tear From the…
If we had some bacon we could have bacon and eggs but we’ve got no eggs. That First World War catch phrase came to mind as I was contemplating an idle wish to make blackberry and apple crumble. I imagine a Bruce Bairnsfather cartoon with Old Bill and Alf or Bert grousing about the food while the whizz bangs fly…
It’s politically incorrect to say Happy Holidays these days. We must all say Merry Christmas. No word on the acceptability of Treasons Greetings so I’ll play it safe and stick to Christmas. Religious freedom – it’s a wonderful thing. Just like freedom from religion. Part of making America great again is that we don’t have to worry about other people’s…
The first day of my new life as an idle good-for-nothing superannuated coffin-dodger (my brother’s description of retirees) coincides with the centenary of the first day of the Battle of the Somme – a day – and a battle that has long held my interest. Not so much because of the military aspects – fascinating as they are – but…