The final frontier 

The final frontier 

Yesterday we paid what will probably be our final visit to my oncologist, Dr Stancliffe. That, in itself, isn’t quite as final as it sounds, since she is handing me over to an excellent team at St Nicholas Hospice. They can call on an amazing range of resources,...
Something (much) more than friendship 

Something (much) more than friendship 

When I was four I fell helplessly, head over heels, in love. Sadly, that love was doomed. But anyone who met my beautiful, feisty, mischievous cousin Birte would, I’m sure, have understood. Birte was born just six months after me, to my mother’s younger sister,...
So who is the carer?

So who is the carer?

Never let it be said that we lead a quiet life. This past week has certainly proved that. It began when I made contact with St Nicholas Hospice – something I had been hoping to do for a long time. And, as I had hoped, they were extremely helpful. Their efforts...
One perfect day…

One perfect day…

Rosemary and I have passed any number of memorable (and – mostly – happy) days as participants in Kentwell Hall’s Tudor Re-creations. But one day, in particular, stands out. The year – on this occasion – was 1600: a gift to gentry, like me, who...
The piper in the loft

The piper in the loft

Long before our loft was converted for the sole use of the son of the household, strange noises could frequently be heard coming from (usually) the front room. The sounds I was making as I learned the fingering for my recorder. The idea came from my mother, who had...