Lately I’ve taken to buying beer by the label. Not in the sense that I am brand loyal and buy the labels I recognise, but in the sense of trying to collect different labels. Label pleasures Sometime last year I discovered that many smaller breweries, at least here in Sweden, are selling beer in cans … More…
Sorting my mother’s old books I came across volumes remembered from when I was a child. They contained so much more than their own pages.
Rising to a challenge posed by WeAreEurope, I try to recreate the childhood food — “salmon cutlets” — that my grandmother used to make.
The bungalow at Beach Green in Shoreham-by-Sea was the third place I lived, but the first place I have clear memories of.
Flying to Accra. This post continues my account of our my trip with Mrs SC to Ghana for my 60th birthday, This week’s post is about getting there.
Ghana memories: an introduction to a forthcoming series of posts at Stops and Stories about my trip to visit Ghana again after 54 years.
Of Flanders fields, poppies and iconography – something of a ramble, something of a rant and all inspired by the recent Armistice memorial events.
Sitting in the barber’s chair can be a meditative experience, my mind wanders back to revisit some of the barbers I have known.
A book review of The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit and Somebody That I Used to Know by Wendy Mitchell, two books read in parallel.
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.