Tag Archives: katherine gregor

New Year Resolutions?

Posted on January 6, 2019 by

I’ve binned my 2018 New Year’s resolutions. Unopened.  They were past their use-by date.  Somehow, they ended up being kicked under the bed or falling behind bookcases, where dust grows in tumbleweed form, buried under dictionaries on my desk, or … Continue reading →

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Needling

Posted on November 14, 2018 by

For some, it’s a massage or a facial. For me, it’s acupuncture. As soon as I’m overwhelmed by stress, run down or simply in need of TLC (not to mention if ever I have a health concern), I book in … Continue reading →

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Early Autumn Wedding

Posted on September 23, 2018 by

“Are you having any readings?” “No.” “Have you brought some music?” “No.” “Do you have rings?” “Yes.” The elderly registrar smiles with a hint of relief.  At least one traditional feature.  She tells those present that photos are not permitted … Continue reading →

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Milan: Behind the Façade

Posted on August 13, 2018 by

I guess it was appropriate that my first conversation in Milan should have been about fashion.  H. and I just had lunch at Stazione Centrale and were leaving the restaurant, trolley suitcases in tow, when I noticed a young woman … Continue reading →

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Paris to Rome by Train

Posted on August 5, 2018 by

“Why can’t we take the train?” “What – all the way?” H. gives me his your-quirkiness-is-turning-into-madness look.  “It’s – it’s –” “The longest leg would be just twelve hours,” I filled in, smiling sweetly.  “If you went to Australia, you’d have to … Continue reading →

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Thunderstorm

Posted on July 29, 2018 by

After weeks of relentless, unusually intense heat, the weather forecaster announces a violent thunderstorm with possible flash flooding in the East of England.  That and we’ve been promised the longest lunar eclipse – with blood moon, no less – in a … Continue reading →

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R. R. R.

Posted on June 3, 2018 by

Different ways of speech communication is one of my earliest memories. The fact that, at home, my mother and grandmother speak one way, and friends, neighbours and people in the street another. Then there’s the way my mother speaks to … Continue reading →

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