In the UK we have silver sixpences buried in Christmas puddings. In France it is tiny porcelain statuettes, called fèves, hidden in galettes des rois - 'king cakes'. Both coins and fèves have magical properties, bestowing special powers on whoever finds them. But for the sixpence, nowadays more likely to be a twenty pence piece,…
Hyggelig, they say
It hasn’t happened to me very often during the last eighty years or so, but the last few weeks I have been completely at a loss for an English word. I’m fairly sure that it must exist, and I know that I shall need it, but where is it? I have done everything that might…
Cupboard love
Joe Collier works through his difficult relationship with a piece of furniture Yesterday a tug-of-love in the Collier family was finally, or probably finally, resolved. The central character in the saga is a dour, antique two-piece wooden cupboard with glass-fronted top that we brought in 1980. It cost £3.50 and was spotted by my wife…
The house that Joe watched
Maybe it’s a man thing, but I love peering into building sites. Somehow, watching as a crater is dug, foundations are laid and then a building grows is absorbing. But observation is often difficult as construction companies often build screens to obscure the view. And, although peeping between corrugated iron sheets or through the knotholes…
A winter’s tale
Alan West has a crack at predicting the past. Yogi Berra the American baseball star of the fifties and sixties (and not the cartoon bear of similar name), once said, “It’s tough to make predictions, especially about the future.” He also famously said, “It ain’t over ‘til it’s over” and “It’s like déjà vu, all…
Wake up call
When it comes to providing entertainment, last weekend will take some beating. First it was to the theatre to see Racine's Berenice, then to the cinema for Amour. Both were captivating, the play intellectually and the film emotionally, and one can’t ask for more than that. Added to all this was a most unusual experience…
Yesterday’s news
It was a rain shower, sixty eight years ago, that started it off. My good father, who could never quite resist the lure of a jumble shop on any occasion, was on his way home without an umbrella when he felt the first drops. Mr Gittins’ tumbledown store, which offered unsellable leftovers from all around,…
Coming home
There is something delightful about seeing friends and family being reunited. Standing in an arrivals lounge, or in a station foyer, a whole spectrum of emotions is on display and for those being watched it is as though the rest of the world doesn't exist. And, of course, for those actually involved, the emotions are…