Author Archives: susan

I have just had a Pride and Prejudice blow-out. A customer ordered a remastered DVD of the 1980 BBC series, with David Rintoul and Elizabeth Garvie in Darcy and Elizabeth roles. So I ordered it as well, and binge-watched the … Continue reading →

I’m just about to start something new – I’ve joined a Book Group. My one and only try at being in a book group was about 10 years ago and it wasn’t a success. Our first book was The Vagina … Continue reading →

It’s the end of January, last day of the first month of the New Year. I have read six books so far in 2016, and they’ve all been terrific. The two Siri Hustvedts got me so keen that I ordered … Continue reading →

I’m not one of those people who can’t let go of books. Book shop customers often love to talk, and to talk about their love of books, and for some their book collections have an almost sacred character. They would … Continue reading →

It’s odd how sometimes everything connects. In last Saturday’s Age was an article titled The Day the Dog Died… by Aisha Dow. The dog died in the living room, at the foot of the sofa, and it stayed there, decomposing, … Continue reading →

I’ve just finished the Philip Larkin biography and I’m left with a sense of cramped Englishness, a quality of ‘life lived small’. His parents weren’t very good at being happy  – and there’s a famous and much quoted poem about … Continue reading →

Happy New Year! I am off and running with my 2016 reading. I have just finished reading Siri Hestvedt’s What I Loved. I raced through it as if I was reading a thriller. Because it was thrilling. I bought it … Continue reading →

A week or so before Christmas, my local Opportunity Shop closed for the holidays. Not only were all clothes only $1 an item, but there were other magnificent bargains to be had as well. Magnificent? Bargains? I guess it depends … Continue reading →

As the old joke says, “Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.” My trip to Chelsea was a rather melancholy pilgrimage. My old house is gone, almost every house I knew in the street is gone, the playground and bluestone … Continue reading →

PLAINNESS The garden’s grillework gate opens with the ease of a page in a well-thumbed book, and, once inside, our eyes have no need to dwell on objects already fixed and exact in memory. Here habits and minds and the … Continue reading →