Author Archives: Scribe Doll

New Blog: Feasts & Fancies

No Scales or Measuring Jugs – Just Imagination and Senses Welcome to my new blog, Feasts & Fancies and the first recipe.  When I moved away from my family, to another country, I asked my grandmother to write down the recipes … Continue reading

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The End of a Blog – and the Beginning of a New One

I started writing this blog, first entitled Londoner’s Musings, then Scribe Doll’s Musings, back in February 2011 because blogs were all the rage, it was Valentine’s Day and I was single with nothing to do, and in order to vent a … Continue reading

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Let Go of the Old Year…

Let go of the Old Year, gently, with respect – it has taught you much, and anything learnt is never wasted.  Usher it out with thanks and an apology – for all you failed to learn, for all your mind could not … Continue reading

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Christmas Eve

The treble has sung.  Christmas has begun.   Once in Royal David’s city… A voice like gold shimmering in the firelight.  The light is draining from the sky.  The sun has withdrawn without pomp.  This is not an evening for … Continue reading

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The Feast of Saint Catherine

The elderly mother of a close friend sends me nameday good wishes every 25th November, and I thank her for her attentiveness. My mother once told me which Saint Catherine I had been dedicated to at birth, but I have … Continue reading

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Brugge (Part 2) – Summer 2022

By the time H. and I managed to tear ourselves away from work long enough to organise a much-needed holiday, all the hotels were booked up or too expensive.  The fares had also gone up.  So our plans to go … Continue reading

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Brugge (Part 1) – 2009

I felt at home there even as I wheeled my suitcase from the train station. The mid-August sun was setting behind the rooftops on Züdzandstraat, the crow-stepped gables that looked like stairways to the sky.  “I think there’s an error … Continue reading

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Russian and Me

I feel happy and privileged that my article, Russian and Me, has just been published by the European Literature Network:

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“Jerusalema” on the Parvis

A wedding party is spilling out of the sternly robust 19th-century church that stands on the edge of the Parvis.  The eye is immediately drawn to the splendid bride, skin like molten chocolate against the white lace dazzling in the … Continue reading

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From a Word that Means “Bridge”

Brugge. That’s what I want to call it from now on.   It’s in Flanders, not Wallonia.   How typical of the Anglophones – the British in particular –  to use its French name by default.  We haven’t grown out … Continue reading

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