Author Archives: Scribe Doll

Brexit – The Hairline Fracture*

H. and I have just come back from a two-week holiday in Rome.  We left Great Britain, we left the United Kingdom, and have come back to Little England, with everything this implies.  For the first week after the Referendum, … Continue reading

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Wine and Politics

We were in something of a celebratory mood, so, being in London for the day, went for lunch at one of our favourite Italian restaurants, in Bloomsbury. “Let’s go there,” I said to H. “Last time we were there, the … Continue reading

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What Exactly is Your Job?

Last weekend, I had the joy of seeing members of the Norwich Stonemasons‘ Guild perform a Mystery Play outside the doors of the Cathedral.  It was a warm, sunny afternoon, a brief summer interlude before putting our coats, scarves and … Continue reading

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Adventures with Chicken Soup

My acupuncturist takes a quick look at my tongue. “You’ve got a low blood count,” she says. I smile and roll my eyes, thinking of how my GP had to draw blood and process it for a whole week before … Continue reading

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Luxembourg Wine

In Anglo-Viking-Flemish Norwich, a Londoner and a Roman invited a Venetian for dinner at their home.  The Venetian had some Austrian, Spanish, and Moroccan blood, the Londoner originally came from a Polish-Jewish family, and the Roman was of Armenian-Welsh-Cornish descent.  … Continue reading

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Future of the UK or Dystopian Nightmare?

The UK borders have closed.  There is no longer free travel in or out of the country and a tourist visa is granted only to travellers able to prove a bank account balance of 1 million pounds minimum. London has … Continue reading

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Just a Bit of Fun at the Expense of One English Social Stereotype*

We went to London last week, and stayed in Fulham, where I lived for several very happy years.  For the information of non-Londoners, it’s an area in the South-West of the capital, a twenty-minute Tube ride from the West End … Continue reading

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Books: Challenges, Traumas and Pure Pleasure

I remember a stormy night when I was about eleven.  We were living in Nice.  I don’t remember what prompted me.  I stood on a chair to reach the top shelf of my mother’s bookcase where she kept – along with … Continue reading

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London Night Sounds

The rumbling of the occasional car, speeding past our house.  A murky grey sound. Snippets of human voices.  A woman’s giggle.  A crimson sound. The arrhythmic clicking of stiletto heels on the pavement.  A copper sound. The roar of the … Continue reading

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Seven Quirks of British Restaurants

No.1 Is everything O.K.? Have you noticed how waiters wait for the exact moment when you have your mouth full, before they ask you that? I often try and cheat them by staging my forkfuls when they’re not around but, … Continue reading

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