On clouds … and how to keep warm in winter

If someone asked you how many types of clouds there were, what would your answer be?

My uncle, forever the erudite, would list clouds in their Latin names: cirrostratus, altostratus, stratocumulus; he might say something about the troposphere. My youngest daughter would ignore the question altogether and would quiz me on the lack of planes and helicopters in the sky.

Continue reading “On clouds … and how to keep warm in winter”

On that birth story I never wrote down

I have kept a journal ever since I learnt how to write. I wrote a PhD, I write a weekly blog.

I have hand written letters to my best friend ever since I could remember.

I wrote my first daughter‘s birth story minute by minute, stage by stage.

Continue reading “On that birth story I never wrote down”

My wedding, part III, or How I cannot read the future, even when it’s laid right in front of me

I grew up in a house full of books.

Books in the mahogany bookcase, books in the vitrines, in place of figurines, knick-knacks and glassware. Books instead of side tables. Books supporting dressers and cabinets, books in wall crevices. Books in the wardrobe. Books in corridors, books behind doors, books on the kitchen table, books in beds, books on the upright piano, books on windowsills. Books at the entrance, books in the balcony.

Continue reading “My wedding, part III, or How I cannot read the future, even when it’s laid right in front of me”

Our wedding – PART II, or how to piece one memory from different sources

The story of our wedding, part I, can be found here.

It is the same day, 11am.

Let us piece the rest of the day, from various sources:

My feelings: of embarrassment, or rather pure terror. In my usual life, I smile and laugh a lot, especially in inappropriate moments. I was somehow convinced I was going to burst out with laughter, so pinching myself I sat, in a fixed uncomfortable position, throughout the ceremony. I remember nothing else.

Continue reading “Our wedding – PART II, or how to piece one memory from different sources”

On football and the only World Cup game I have watched this year

‘I often lay awake at night and look back at my life in wonder.

I am married, I have a family and I have changed jobs 5 times, because I wanted to. I feel like I have only moved up.

If my mother had lived to know this, she would find herself in disbelief, but proud. Continue reading “On football and the only World Cup game I have watched this year”

On Grete and her half of the story

featuring #HALFTHESTORY

I can’t take it off. I have tried and I’ve tried, but it’s too late now, it is stuck to my face and there’s nothing I can do about it.

It’s not gilded, it does not shine, nor sparkle, nor wow. It is not colourful; although it does have a beige tinge which I quite like.

Continue reading “On Grete and her half of the story”

Purple and red, apples and pears

featuring APPLES & PEARS

I grew up in a concrete jungle, in a flat at the centre of Bucharest. I learned to love walking to school among blocks of flats, reaching the city centre on foot, marvelling at architectural antitheses. I fell in love with grey. Continue reading “Purple and red, apples and pears”