Childhood . My Mother . Nostalgia
Make Mine a Troll
On May 29, 2019 by Speranza
Anyone who knows me well has heard about my devotion to “Trolls” (aka “Gonks” in the UK) the popular, hi-liter haired dolls that were very popular in the sixties. While other girls were collecting the newest Barbie, it’s probably quite telling in some weird psychological way that I was never impressed or even remotely interested in regular dolls and instead much preferred my growing tribe of Trolls. Each one had a different hair colour, including two with striking, snow-white tresses whom I presumed to be elderly and accordingly named Martha and Frank. I saved diligently to increase my collection whenever possible and expanded to include the tiny Trolls sold as pencil toppers or key-chain danglers although their hair was never the same caliber as the larger ones and would routinely tear off in one piece, like a bright conical flame with a stiff headband of adhesive.
This was always a sad moment because a bald Troll is suddenly a bit too close to a perverted uncle for anyone’s liking.
My Father . My Mother . Nostalgia
The Importance of Being Idle
On September 20, 2018 by Speranza
I was thinking of a family story when I woke up yesterday, one of my favourites and never ceases to delight me. I’m not sure why I enjoy the story so much but I suspect it’s because it illustrates the stark differences between my parents so vividly. My father, a short-fused, A-type personality was a man who got things done, was always early for appointments and had no tolerance for anything or anyone that had a whiff of “idleness” about it. (I have put idleness in quotes because what he, and many others, considered to be “idle” in wartime Lancashire could easily include pausing to draw breath). I often think he would not do well with the current avalanche of self-care books available because he literally, would not understand the concept.
Childhood . Music . My Mother . Nostalgia
Club Django and More
On October 9, 2016 by Speranza
Last week a friend (actually, two separate friends, who both know me well) invited me to come along and hear Club Django. I do love hearing bands play live and I particularly like this kind of music but sometimes it seems like too much trouble after a long day at work and the concept of coming home and going out again seems unbearable.
Still, as noted here before, I find Klezmer (or so-called ‘Gypsy Jazz’) reliably cheering so my friends collected me at the especially odd time of 2pm and we moved out of the glinty sunshine into a darker venue to catch Club Django in concert.
And from the opening notes, I was so, so happy that I did.
British Stuff . Family . My Mother
Family Matters – Wilfred Baden Tyler
On February 21, 2016 by Speranza
I know very little about my mother’s family and lately I have fallen prey to searching ancestry.com which is, apparently, rampant among the aging Boomer population who are all trying to stoke their ongoing fascination with the past (and indirectly death), by desperately trying to get something, anything, down on paper that will both document and preserve their own life’s relevancy. And lest anyone is about to point out the irony of a self-indulgent blogger snidely calling out other people, I absolutely agree. But I don’t think this is very unusual; no one wants to feel that when they duff off their mortal coil that’s it, do they?
But, let’s leave that for another post.