Author Archives: memoirsofahusk
Two nights at the museum. A dream fulfilled (not flushed)*
The train station in A Coruña looks like a cathedral. Or seems to as we’re being driven towards it by our nice, helpful taxi driver. Inside the cavernous building, two men on the track are washing a waiting train – … Continue reading
The president and the slave trader
This morning, Sunday morning, for the first time in my life, I sat in bed with my laptop and watched a 40 minute video. It was emotional watching. There were tears. (I know, the tears thing – it’s becoming a … Continue reading
Baby, you’re out of time*
One minute I’m thinking, gosh, what a good and faithful reconstruction of the fashions and language and décor of 1963. The next, there’s a slip in the fabric of time. A man speaks. A twenty-first century expression in a 1960s … Continue reading
Amazing Grace – the flip side
I’d been back from hospital just twenty-four hours when a programme on television reduced me to tears. I suspect if it had been longer since my sawbones’s attentions I would still have been touched. But probably not enough to end … Continue reading
MEMOIRS OF A HUSK 