Tag Archives: Art
Henry VIII … and the start of a Very Exciting Adventure
I begin this Blog with Happy News: BB having featured regularly in my tales over the last ten years has become HH: the Handsome Husband. Our East London wedding celebrations in June saw us tie the knot at Hackney Town … Continue reading
Pier to Peer: a tale of two weekends
In June this year our planned stay at Breedon Hall luxury B&B in Derbyshire fell victim to Covid; the host’s son had tested positive. Long-lost friends Charles and Charlotte were forced to cancel a full hotel – far worse for … Continue reading
Frames, facades, finials and flourishes: how buildings tell stories.
I have a window fetish. There, I’ve said it. Mullions or muntins* of different widths make my hair stand on end; they let the building down, its facade a jumble. Simply put, both God and the Devil are in the detail … Continue reading
Moving house, Spandangled, Spain … and the joy of magic pants.
Fortewinks’ May post was delivered with little insight as to the Very Difficult Time that was unfolding. Because every now and then the outcome of precipitous events does not become clear until later: this was such an episode. Shortly after … Continue reading
Hello to half a century (and then some).
Fifty-five is not an insubstantial age but not as old as I hope to be one day – assuming I will remain in fine fettle of course. This year’s birthday celebrations extended to before and beyond the day itself and … Continue reading
A Wanstead afternoon and other social shenanigans
It began on the first Friday of April. I had invited very old friends from Cambridge days of yore, people with whom I had mingled during the year of my secretarial training. The early ‘80s involved partner in crime, the … Continue reading
A tale of clever women and country cottages.
The charms of a weekend in the country have largely eluded me over thirty years as a Londoner, mainly because I feel safe in these smokey streets. So when invitations to go there began to arrive, I thought long and … Continue reading
Spicy rum, wayward cherubs and the artist unzipped
Once upon a time I must have known how to spell ‘prompt’. These days its meaning seems to escape me, and so with more metaphorical Lycra than was decent for “fashionably late”, I landed in the midst of Zyg’s Private … Continue reading