Category Archives: Odds & Ends

A Niçard Scrapbook: The Blue, Blue Sea.

It was one thing I was determined to do in Nice, even more than to see the Dufy collection at the Musée des Beaux-Arts.  For weeks, I pictured myself slipping off my sandals and standing in the sea up to … Continue reading

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The Sorrows and Joys of Translating Italian Dialects

When you translate Italian literature you will, more often than not, come across expressions in one of many dialects or vernaculars. It’s the difficulty and – even more – the joy of being a It>En translator. Here is an article I … Continue reading

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Sinatra and Bennett – soundtracks to a childhood

I was very sad to hear of Tony Bennett’s passing, a couple of weeks ago. The last of the great crooners, I thought. Crosby, Como, Bennett and, of course, Sinatra. I was in Venice when I heard an American tourist … 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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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  The sun has withdrawn without pomp.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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The Polish Woman on the Bus

The emotional memory of that day is much stronger than the memory of the event’s details.    It was 1981 and I was coming home from school on the bus.  I was sixteen.  Without a word, she presented a card … Continue reading

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Just a Five-Pound Teapot

I bought the teapot in Boots.  White with blue and yellow flowers.   Back when there was a Boots in Sidney Street. When they still sold a few household goods and stationery.  I paid about five pounds for it.  I … Continue reading

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New Year’s Eve

A tower of books is rising in the corridor, taller, wonkier by the minute, until it comes tumbling down.  I scoop the books into several plastic bags.  They’re going to Oxfam.  Books I no longer like.  Books I don’t care … Continue reading

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Yuletide

There are things you can’t tell other people – or only just a few people, perhaps: that you love the time of year when nights are long.  That you long for the moment, at around four o’clock, when you watch the … Continue reading

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