Tag Archives: katherine gregor

Feasts & Fancies: The Magic of Bread

If anything makes me believe in magic in the kitchen it is making bread.  The verb make is, of course, somewhat inappropriate in the context of magic, since you are not, alone, in control of the process.  As in any … 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  The sun has withdrawn without pomp.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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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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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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The First Day of Spring?

Last Sunday morning, 20th March, radio presenters were cheerfully announcing the first day of spring. “It’s not the first day of spring – it’s the vernal equinox!” I grumbled once again. I do that: talk back at radio presenters, cheer … Continue reading

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