We live our lives forever taking leave - Rilke

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Thursday, 23 February 2017

Wednesday, February 22/2017


Last Wednesday of the month is always book sale in the courtyard at St Helena's Anglican. Hundreds of books, almost all in English and most previously owned by people of our age, which often makes good pickings. Not overwhelming today, although that may in part be because we're not very early, having passed the convent on the way, dropped in on their charity shop and got involved in conversation with a nun and two volunteers, all very friendly. We're far from desperate for more books, with three ebooks alternating on our read aloud plan as well as books we're reading separately. But, like true addicts, we can't simply walk away either. So: 1) How to be Good- light novel by Nick Hornby. 2) Home to Roost - light reminiscences by Deborah Devonshire, youngest of the Mitford sisters. Intro by Alan Bennett is recommendation enough. 3) Caedmon's Song - mystery set in Yorkshire, by Peter Robinson, UK cum Canadian detective fiction writer. If he turns out to be good there's plenty more in his publication list. 4) Finding Poland - a search for family history across Poland, Kazakhstan, Iran, India, and England. 5) Jams, Pickles & Chutneys - recipes, obviously. Had thought to copy a couple of the best and then pass the book on to Bill and Jane, who might want to do the same, but so many of them look good that I'm wavering....


Football is huge here, and the pub down the road seems to be a gathering spot for fans, often audible through closed balcony doors. Tonight there's a pre-game rally complete with songs, chants, firecrackers and flares. The road completely blocked off, which seems to offend nobody. This goes on for about an hour before the assembled fans head off for the game. 

I make spaghetti for dinner. Spaghetti and sauce are fine, but I succeed in burning a pristine stainless steel frying pan before I begin and smash a dinner plate into more tiny fragments than I would have thought possible (and of course am not equipped with broom, let alone dustpan). Don't dare pour wine until everything else finished.