The worst journey in the world (redux)
What is the worst journey you have ever made? Recent events, public and private, have me remembering my own worst journey and the concept of a bad journey.
This sub-category of Articulations collects posts that are mostly or largely made up of memoirs from my life, or family stories
What is the worst journey you have ever made? Recent events, public and private, have me remembering my own worst journey and the concept of a bad journey.
The six decades between 1958 and 2018 – today is my 60th birthday and I’m sharing snapshots of my life from the last six decades.
This week, wounds and scar tissue. Not one of my usual efforts, though it is a kind of a Stop and a kind of a Story. I want to give some explanation of why I’ve not been enthusiastically blogging the last few weeks. It all starts with my birth…
April 18th – one day in seven decades. And why just this day? What is the significance? It’s the day (in 1986) that I married Mrs SC. Our anniversary.
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The Ghana Christmas ball was the first Christmas present I remember receiving. I was six years old and I was given the ball by my Father Christmas.
A new update of events in October and November with links to recently active blogs and recently published blog entries and photos.
In which, still in Brighton, we visit a cafe where once was an antiques shop that I worked in: stories of the two proprietors 40 years ago.
We visit the author’s home town, Brighton and Hove, and indulge in some nostalgia to the sound of “the grating roar/Of pebbles which the waves draw back”.
In which we consider swimming as exercise and therapy and a try to remember learning to swim as well as exploring swimming at Piscine de Longchamp in Uccle.
There’s something very special, I think, about hearing piano music in the street – each time it happens it adds an extra little bookmark in my memory.