I meant to tell a story I lived from day to day — Janis Ian
Posted in Memoirs on Sep 23rd, 2007
Just before this wonderful, cold, dark—and in the lives of some of us—nearly final Christmas Eve, I suddenly found that my plans were not the same as my Mothers’. I thought I would be in Brookline with my friends (they would call for me in ancient cars that shot out jets of steam and smoke), […]
Posted in Memoirs on Dec 3rd, 2006
In the fall, when we were living on Karlavagen in Stockholm, we would go out to the forest to pick Lingonberries. In my mind, this seems like a custom, something we did many times, although logic tells me that we only lived on Karlavagan for a short time and that we couldn’t have gone picking more than […]
Posted in Memoirs on Oct 8th, 2006
As I was going to St Ives I met a man with seven wives Seven wives with seven sacks Seven sacks with seven cats Seven cats with seven kits Kits, cats, sacks, wives How many were going to St Ives? English schools run to a very civilized calendar. The school year starts in September, takes […]
Posted in Memoirs on Oct 5th, 2006
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In […]
Posted in Memoirs on Oct 1st, 2006
My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky. It’s time to take the window to see Leerie going by; For every night at teatime and before you take your seat, With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up the street. For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door, […]