Category Archives: Autobiography
A friend came visiting with this gift. It’s a citron called Buddha’s hand. Smells citrus-stunning, looks vegetable-cunning. Makes me stupidly happy. I am finding that I have a zest for all things zesty. It takes very small things…
Sons are not, in the main, great shopping companions. Mine are complaining in and out types, fixing on an item as quickly as possible, ducking from considering alternatives I might point out to them, making for the tills in tortured … Continue reading
From “What do I see that Flies?” New Africa Books
Photograph by Dayna Davis
Why does this image say it all? The Sunday night apprehension, the playground bullies, the monotony, the routine. From under the sheltering umbrella of bed and home, these shoes must go forth into all that with me reluctantly inside them. … Continue reading
At first the thinking was something along these lines: what should I do with these silk ties I have collected over the years from charity shops and flea markets? Ah, I know, sew them onto a cloth, some unbleached … Continue reading
from “Psst…have you heard?” African Suitcase Some strange things happen in a classroom, to that I can attest.
from “Psst…Have you heard?”, African Suitcase School rules are one thing, dog rules say never put out your hand on top of a strange dog’s head.