Category Archives: Family

Careless

I took a long time to get started in adult life. After university and a false start in London I took off and travelled in South America. I was 23. When I came back, a year later, I was rich … Continue reading

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The empathy revolution

I’m most grateful to all the people who have been in touch following the last two posts about my grandfather’s experiences on the Arctic Convoys. Coincidentally, as my cousin pointed out in his comment two weeks ago, my maternal grandfather … Continue reading

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Convoy (continued)

On 27 June 1942, convoy PQ17 set sail from Hvalfjord in Iceland for the Russian port of Archangel. The convoy comprised 35 merchant ships and a close escort of destroyers, submarines, smaller craft and two anti-aircraft ships, one of which, … Continue reading

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Convoy

Last week the chef at my mother’s care home handed me a hefty tome entitled The Arctic Convoys, 1941-1945 (a man of eclectic tastes he has previously lent me a DVD of Cream at the Albert Hall). As a keen … Continue reading

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Whose truth?

‘I thought it was Mum who had the idea for the bus, not Dad,’ said my brother, in response to my post here last week about our teenage hideout. It’s a common enough exchange between siblings, and one that surely … Continue reading

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Magic bus

I wrote last week about acting on wild ideas. My father was a judge. As the profession would suggest, he was the most rational of men and not given to frequent flights of the imagination. Occasionally, though, he surprised us … Continue reading

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Winter spell

The last four days have felt like real winter. The thermometer has hardly risen above zero since I arrived here. The cold bites my cheeks as soon as I step outside and the snow crunches underfoot. Through the picture windows … Continue reading

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Magic in the air

Sometimes there’s just a little bit of magic in the air. So it has seemed these last 10 days. I can’t really explain it, but it feels as if maybe the planets have been particularly well aligned – or something … Continue reading

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Wild geese

On Monday I returned from a week’s holiday in Mallorca to a different season. The trees are turning, the first dusting of snow has been sighted on the tops of the Munros, and the greylag are on the move. It’s … Continue reading

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Family trees

Last week I wrote about how a story I had concocted for Turnberry Hotel around a true wartime incident had come to the attention of someone who thought a relative might have been involved in the event. Yesterday I spoke … Continue reading

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