Never Mind Smilla’s Feelings

Everyday the snow looked different. First, the sugary glitter of crushed diamonds, then shards of glass. Lastly, the papery surface of flakey skin. Like a film exposed for hours, it’s ribboned lines revealed what happened in my absence. Lone walkers and dog walkers. The crazy quilting of little birds, a double machine stitch in the […]

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The Alcoholic Preschooler

Our usual brand of brioche is “Harry’s”, last week we bought “Pasquier” instead. Most found it an ordeal to swallow even a mouthful, the only one not revolted by the taste was the four year old, J. Everyday I’d cajole him to eat as much of our brioche mountain as he could get down. I’ve […]

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Get Fit Excruciatingly Slowly

I am walking most days for about 45 minutes. We are now in France, so I start in the village. I feel slightly shamefaced if people in doorways watch me, as if I have no right to be shambling by on their street, as if the battle against morbid obesity and the certainty of adult […]

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