I was giving him a quick hug the other day, when I suddenly realized that my teddy qualifies for Medicare. His name is Mish, Polish for teddy bear. An old man, he sits in the bedroom, looking dapper in the tuxedo and bow tie I found for him in a toy bear shop in Vermont twenty years ago. He has no fur left, to speak of, and his eyes, a choking hazard these days, I’m sure, were replaced long ago. My mother regularly sewed his arms Continue reading →
3 minute read When I was a child in 1950s London, fruit was rationed. It wasn’t government rationing, but anything from abroad was scarce in our household. It was easier to find produce grown in England. And with five daughters, … Continue reading →
In the summer, when the weather was good, we walked to church. Daddy would be in his suit and tie, wearing a trilby hat, which he would remove as we crossed the threshold of the church.
I’m on the left, my Polish godmother is on the right, with my sister Alex on her knee…
My four sisters and I would be in our best dresses. The twins, at twelve two years older than me, usually had identical ones, with perhaps a different colored cardigan each, blue for Jane, and green for Kay.
4 minute read My mother was always looking for ways to save money. Although she had little spare time, with a job and five girls to feed, she decided to bake her own bread. And it would be healthy bread, … Continue reading →