Memories in Words and Pictures
I collect young people's books. I have a general collection of books published from the mid nineteenth century onwards which includes everything from Louisa Alcott, through Julia Green, Joan Lingard, Philip Reeve and John Rowe Townsend to Paul Zindel. I don't necessarily have everything by all the authors in this collection; it's more of a... Continue Reading →
Today I saw my sister for the first time in almost four months. Outside and at a distance, but I saw her. We're almost each other's only family in Scotland so it was significant. Prior to the lockdown here I was in Australia and New Zealand visiting family and friends and had to return hastily.... Continue Reading →
Yesterday should have been my first day at home after a journey of a lifetime to Australia and New Zealand. Ah, the best laid plans. Instead I've been home for nearly three weeks and have already completed my photo book and am awaiting its delivery from PhotoBox. I enjoyed putting the book together and sifting... Continue Reading →
In the Australian spring of 1965, two very different people arrived in Melbourne. Rosemary Steele from Musselburgh was bored with her life, full though it was, and this led her to apply for an assisted passage to Australia. She was successful and made the decision to emigrate, agreeing to remain in Australia for at least... Continue Reading →
This photograph of me was taken on the steps of the first house I ever lived in, a quarter villa in the east of Edinburgh. It's the first house my parents owned and the home to which both my younger sister and I were taken after our respective births. We moved away the summer before... Continue Reading →
Twilight is bewitching and enchanting, but the gloaming is soothing and secure, a time out of time when the day's worries and stresses fade away. The gloaming delights me and never more than when I'm in a city. The contrast between the clamour of life going on around me and my own personal bubble of... Continue Reading →
Given my penchant for travel and my fascination with how it was in an earlier age, it should come as no surprise that my favourite London shop is Stanfords, the long-established travel bookshop. Its current home is in Long Acre in Covent Garden but it is poised to journey just around the corner to Mercer... Continue Reading →
Last week I discovered that my job had become a victim of budget savings. In common with councils across the country, Moray finds itself in the position of having to save millions and so my job with its wonderful Libraries Service will end soon. I'm sad about this obviously. It really is the best Libraries... Continue Reading →
The last time Scotland sweltered for so long under a relentlessly sunny sky was a significant summer in my life. I was eight and my little world changed dramatically. For three years we had lived in Dumfries, the Queen of the South straddling the River Nith. I have partial memories of living elsewhere but the... Continue Reading →
It's not just pictures of places that hold memories. This is my fiftieth birthday cake. I may have become rather over-excited about celebrating my half century, a state only intensified by a brief flirtation at death's door the previous year. Whatever the reason, I was determined to embrace my age and share my birthday with... Continue Reading →
Jane's Picture Journal 