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
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
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
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 The sun has withdrawn without pomp.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
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
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
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
Russian and Me
I feel happy and privileged that my article, Russian and Me, has just been published by the European Literature Network:
“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
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