Stitches of the past

There’s a photograph of me, age 4 – my pink-cheeked, chubby face is set against the marbled blue backdrop inextricably linked with school photos from the 1990s. I am wearing a frothy white wedding dre

I PEGGED Dad’s Seventies’ psychedelic floral shirt on the section of the clothesline designated for “undies”. It couldn’t be seen by the neighbours. I dreamt of the day my parents would give me their

AFTER Louisa’s funeral, her friends and neighbours gathered together in September Cottage. Her home, just like the church had been, was full of autumn flowers. Louisa had been born in September, which

EVERY time I smell the sweet scent of September air, I am transported back to Alderley Cottage. I am walking up the garden path strewn with grass and twigs towards a faded blue painted door with a bro

WITH more than a hint of nerves, I slide into an empty seat in the auditorium for my first university lecture. I look down the aisle hoping to see a friendly face, but there is no-one I recognise, whi

We may have all manner of modern gadgetry and user-friendly kit in our kitchens, but often it’s the most humble objects that mean more to us than anything else.