It is said they only found one mad old man in the Bastille when they stormed it on this day in 1789. This info may well be fabricated and based on Dr Manette in “A Tale of Two Cities.”
The title of this Commonplace has been referred to as “the most famous postcode in the world.” Hands up those who know where it is and to what it refers?
Struggling is on my mind because I am trying to write something about my parents. A few simple paragraphs to show how they seemed to me, which might account for myself being the way I am.
I can’t remember not singing. As a family we all sang, even those that couldn’t; my dad groaning like a grampus. But in appropriate places, like church. Never in a bank, perish the thought.
One tries to put oneself in another person’s shoes, but Emma Morano’s are a tight fit as far as I’m concerned, ‘specially her diet of a raw egg a day.
Yes Virginia, you are jolly well eighty years old. Promise I tried not to advertise it but the inner sixteen in me bobs up every now and then and I do love a party.
On Mother’s Day, this particular mother was given a milk bottle and a lunch box – two presents that truly surprised me.
There are not many crises that can’t be improved by a cup of tea.
It’s been nearly a year since I found my beloved BH slumped in the shower. I still shudder at the memory. But his native strength (you can’t keep a good Balt on the floor), and his “medical man”, as he calls him, have pulled him round.
I have a new friend. We have not come face to face — yet. He is four years younger than I am and way way cleverer. My friend is one of the Jewish children rescued by Fr Adam Sztark and Sisters Ewa and Marta.