Tag Archives: writing

A Little Black Number Called Genie

I’d grieved over the meaninglessness of my first cat, Pyewacket, going missing and now felt I was ready for a new feline room mate.  Kittens in London are like gold dust, since most people have their cats neutered and spayed, … Continue reading

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Do people change, or is blood really thicker than water?

It’s a grey, chilly afternoon and I’m listening to Jordi Savall’s CD Orient-Occident.  I love it.  It makes me quiver all over, it makes me tingle.  It makes my blood and every cell in my body want to dance. “You … Continue reading

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Château de Seneffe*

I’ve translated ten pages and that’s enough work for today.  It’s raining heavily, so I can’t go out for a walk in the grounds this afternoon.  Determined, steady rain that heralds the autumn.  Hard rain that chills the air until … Continue reading

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Religious Tolerance – Yes, But From Everybody, Please

I ask a man I’ve just met what he does for a living.  “I build boats,” he says, “like Jesus – I mean Noah –” he darts me a concerned look and holds out his hand in a halt sign, “I … Continue reading

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The Yellow Dress

Through a writer with whom we’ve recently formed a pleasant acquaintance, we were invited to a small dinner party given by a prince belonging to one of Italy’s oldest and most illustrious houses.  The kind that owns a collection of … Continue reading

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A Herb Garden on the Windowsill

I’d planned to work today.  After all, for one reason or another – mainly to do with accumulated tiredness, I spent all last week doing dolce farniente.  However, when I woke up this morning, after ten hours’ sleep, I remembered … Continue reading

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Norwich Animals

Every morning, half a dozen or so large seagulls gather on the roof of the house opposite H’s study window.  Well, perhaps “gather” isn’t the right word, since they’re never all there at the same time.  They compete for the … Continue reading

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Eight Complaints of a Literary Translator

One: A couple of weeks ago, my mother’s doctor said he charged £25 to write a (short) letter about the state of her health. I commented that it was more than people would often pay me, as a literary translator.  … Continue reading

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Tallis versus Byrd – when you lack the appropriate vocabulary

“You can really tell if it’s Byrd or Tallis from the first few bars?” H. likes some Early and 16th Century music, but is more of a Romantic and 20th Century man.  He likes passion in music.  I like post-white-ruff … Continue reading

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Fifty

One finger for every pie. One colour for every intention. The first thought that flashed through my head when I saw the gloves.  I was in a Norwich shop called ‘Head in the Clouds’ – apparently, UK’s oldest head shop.  I … Continue reading

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