Author Archives: Scribe Doll
Welcoming In The New Year*
Raid all the cupboards and drawers. Throw into the charity shop bag anything you no longer want, toss into the bin liner anything nobody would want. Make room for the beautiful, the useful, the new. Vacuum the carpets, remove the … Continue reading
There’s no Santa Claus but…
Tamsin wrote the letter with her favourite pen. The blue and gold one she had got for her birthday. She formed all the letters carefully, so Santa Claus would be able to read her handwriting. Her grandmother said good children … Continue reading
Socially Impaired
I am brusquely jolted from my mellow, Sunday morning slumber. I’ve just remembered. I have to go to a party this afternoon. Oh, heck. “I wish I didn’t have to go,” I tell H. over a plateful of French toast. … Continue reading
Advent Carols at Norwich Cathedral
“We should get there at least half an hour earlier to get a decent seat.” “Half an hour!” “Bring a book.” “I don’t know… reading a book in church?” “Other people chat before the service, which I find infuriating. At … Continue reading
“Thank You” Isn’t Just About Etiquette
I’ve started dropping friends and acquaintances who fail to thank. Be it for a present, a favour or simply for having had dinner at my home. It’s my choice and although it may appear as unforgiving, I have good reasons … Continue reading
A Little Black Number Called Genie
I’d grieved over the meaninglessness of my first cat, Pyewacket, going missing and now felt I was ready for a new feline room mate. Kittens in London are like gold dust, since most people have their cats neutered and spayed, … Continue reading
Do people change, or is blood really thicker than water?
It’s a grey, chilly afternoon and I’m listening to Jordi Savall’s CD Orient-Occident. I love it. It makes me quiver all over, it makes me tingle. It makes my blood and every cell in my body want to dance. “You … Continue reading
Portrait of Mother and Child
It’s a crowded train and he sits on her lap, her arms around him. Not tight but rather soft, rounded, her hands relaxed on his lap. So he doesn’t feel trapped. So he doesn’t feel as though there’s any danger. … Continue reading
Château de Seneffe*
I’ve translated ten pages and that’s enough work for today. It’s raining heavily, so I can’t go out for a walk in the grounds this afternoon. Determined, steady rain that heralds the autumn. Hard rain that chills the air until … Continue reading
Religious Tolerance – Yes, But From Everybody, Please
I ask a man I’ve just met what he does for a living. “I build boats,” he says, “like Jesus – I mean Noah –” he darts me a concerned look and holds out his hand in a halt sign, “I … Continue reading