I’m not sure that I would, in my advanced years, be a good pupil when it comes to learning how to play a musical instrument. As a child it was something which was expected: music was a major part of the educational system, and anyone who did not take part was looked at as if…

Earlier today I told a young woman that I was jealous of her only just discovering the work and talent of Joan Baez, who I have been following avidly for several decades. For her, I wrote, everything that she hears is fresh and new, whereas for me they merely rekindle memories of past times, and…

Dear Reader,* It seems like only yesterday we were caught up in the heated joys of summer: ice cream and beach parties; walks in the country, seeking out shade under the canopies of lofty trees; cool evenings with friends on the terrace or in the garden, the smoky evening meal on a barbecue and the…

Dear Reader,* Initially I was going to write that something has slowly dawned on me, that a realisation has come over a longer period of time and that now, in my old age and wisdom, I have come to see the light and discovered it to be true. This, however, wouldn’t be right, and I…

Dear Reader,* Someone asked me recently what it is that I miss most about England, about London specifically, since leaving to travel and then live overseas. For a while I was completely floored, not a single idea what on earth they could mean: I’ve been living elsewhere – to put it euphemistically – since the…

Dear Reader*, What is it about letter writing which makes it so special, which binds people to a desk, pan and paper during the finest weather, which causes them to put their often intimate thoughts down on paper for family, friends and acquaintances, and trust them to the vagaries of the postal system? How has…