from Oannes Songs Of Childhood Nostalgia #1 Θα ακούσουμε μερικά τραγούδια νοσταλγίας για την παιδική ηλικία, γραμμένα από γνωστούς, ή όχι τόσο, καλλιτέχνες.Ξεκινάμε με ένα από τα πιο αγαπημένα μου τραγούδια του Neil Young. ✻ We will hear some songs of childhood nostalgia, written by well-known artists, or not very much so.We start with one […]
Ok, it may not be in the best condition and the photos, apart from the cover, are in black and white, but I love this little book.
I’ve had it since childhood and I still love to read the information and study the pictures. I’m not a railway buff, but I think I could have been if I had allowed myself to get drawn into that world.
As a boy, I used to dream of visiting these places, experiencing the different European and other cultures, which all had their own distinction.
I fear much of that uniqueness is disappearing, along with the trains. Of all the countries, Switzerland does appear to be retaining its sense of place, aided no doubt by its particular geographic location.
Our loft, apart from being a mess, can sometimes turn out to be a proverbial treasure trove. Well, not exactly!
We all love to look and dream about red sports cars, especially an iconic red Corvette, naturally, don’t we?
I look at this red Corvette most days, pick it up and look at the lines, imagining I’m somewhere in the Mid West cruising along Route 66, or some long open highway with only mesas, inselbergs and the odd raptor for company, the shapes of distant mountains blue in the background.
My father has been dead a long time now, but I’ve never stopped missing him.
I was brought up in an agricultural community of intensive farming, but with just enough ‘real nature’ around us to appreciate the clean air (usually), the silence, the freedom. I virtually grew up on a bike and cars were relatively rare down our road.
Through all that time my father seemed to be in the background, always there, but quiet, shy. He’d had various jobs before retirement, a butcher, farm labourer mainly, but he was an intelligent man of few words.
And I feel I never really knew or understood him.
I wish I’d asked more questions, about his early life, his family. But we never know or ask enough, do we? We take it for granted that our family are there. For us.
Then one day, one of them is not. It’s too late. Yes, of course, I’m stating the obvious, but most often we ignore the obvious all around us, don’t we?
My abiding memory is of my father on his piece land at the back of our house, digging, simply digging the rich soil, surrounded by the vast fertile fields and eyed by hungry, inquisitive birds.
Isn’t nice to see that Roman parents had the same problems as us? Although, I would hate it if anyone ever described me as pushy.
Don’t you ever wonder which children had/have the best childhood. Is it the Roman child who did not have the ‘luxury’ of an x-box but was taught literature, taught to question and discuss or is it the child of today who has freedom but prefers the quick fix of a video game to a good book?
However, I did find it funny – and sad – to read of the Roman difficulties when it came to contraception.