remembering my father

Reminiscing in the Tower

When I was a child, I lived in South America. I attended an English school, learnt to read and write in English, sang English songs and studied English history. In third grade, I had a teacher named Mrs Miller who was charged with teaching us about The Hundred Years’ War as well as with starting […]

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A little house in delft porcelain – a reminiscence

In the not so distant past, All Hallows was the day when the graves of our dead were visited. Come evening, the graveyards would be alive with the flickering light of candles, a night of light in the otherwise so permanent dark of the dead. Headstones were eerily lit from below by the candles left

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