For some reason my cat has taken a strong dislike to me writing letters; more than that, to me sitting at my writing desk and working on anything that has to do with either reading or writing. Since these two occupations take up practically all my time at home – home being the office as…

Nothing reminds you of the way things were, than coming back to them all of a sudden. In my last letter I wrote about the differences between the small town where I now live and life in London – among other things – and these past few days some of those differences have been brought…

What was freezing cold in my last letter is now mild and inviting. The weather has gradually moved from its winter modus into the beginnings of spring, although we are warned, as every year, that this is only a temporary measure, the heavens will send down a few more cold fronts and allow bitter winds…

My fresh, clean sheet of paper comes very late in the day this time; although my diary has been updated there has been no chance to sit down in peace and quiet, and dedicate myself to the pleasures of putting other words on paper. The new page in a diary, having run for so many…

Several decades ago, when I first started writing, someone asked me what I found to write about, what it is that interests me enough to pick up a pen and commit my thoughts to paper. For some reason he couldn’t imagine that there as anything much in life, in the life that he led at…