As if there isn’t enough going on in a bathroom already (well there always is for me), here follows what…
childhood
The Culture Gap…
Continued privations at the end of the war made comments like,
“You’d never think we were the victors,” commonplace on the rubble-filled streets and in the empty shops.
The Trees Remain the Same…
“See that tree at the end?”
“Yes!” I said fully expecting him to say he’d fallen out of it during a particularly brave feat of super boyhood,
“That’s where I buried…must have been 100 baby rabbits!”
Cigarette Smoke…
the smells of my grandfather’s tobacco mixed with warm leather transport me to gentle, childhood summer holidays spent with them.
Wedding Countdown… The Saga of the Mother/Groom Dance
My son, the betrothed asked if I would like to suggest a song for his dance with me at the…