One May morning...
This is the issue of the Paris Review that came out about the time I was born. (It inspired the tweet 'perhaps the loveliest spring of all'. Rather good, I thought.) You can buy a copy of this issue of Paris Review for about $100. It would make a nice birthday present. The birthday clues: Lusitania, Tchaikovsky and Browning.
I am sorry to say that I have not been to Paris or anywhere else in France but I have been to New Caledonia. (That may not be quite the same thing but there were Frenchmen there,)
I was due on the fourth but that wasn't entirely convenient. I was a fashionable three days late.
I am sorry to say that I have not been to Paris or anywhere else in France but I have been to New Caledonia. (That may not be quite the same thing but there were Frenchmen there,)
I was due on the fourth but that wasn't entirely convenient. I was a fashionable three days late.
1958The Cold War.
Britain (in space?). My birth. The intellectual climate. Various other matters. Coming soon (not 1958, obviously. That has been). |
And a little later. . . |
Erik at the Harlequin Public House on my birthday (2014).
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January 7th 1982
Now that's a distant memory. Taken at Mona Vale, Christchurch, on the date mentioned. The knife used (bone-handled, Sheffield steel etc) had been employed for cutting wedding cakes before by an assortment of family members. It had also spent a few years lurking under the veranda at 'Glen Oak' as well. One of those little mysteries that occur in the life of a knife.