Author Archives: lesleyjonesberry

If I knew you were coming

I made a cake at the weekend.  I don’t often bake these days but it was my son’s birthday and traditions are reassuring.  My mixing bowl is a Mason Cash – you know the type, surely in the UK it … Continue reading

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In My Mind’s Eye

Another national lockdown returns me to Dickens.  I have written already about the reassurance and pleasure provided through long novels.  Good audiobook versions are my substitute for live theatre:  more than anything else, this is where I can find compensation … Continue reading

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Connexions

In the midst of what, for convenience, I’ll call the ‘second lockdown’ I have rejected Zoom. My head recognises its benefits, but my heart has rebelled. 

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Retrospective

I’ve started reading Barney Norris’ The Vanishing Hours. The first few pages are exquisite, and chime so strongly with my current mood that I’m just going to quote from them: I thought if I could record all the beauty that … Continue reading

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Anticipation

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse’ The Night Before Christmas By Samuel Clemens In the library at my primary school, there was a book which contained just … Continue reading

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Music and Movement

A friend took part in a virtual choir event of vast scope recently. The organiser, Eric Whiteacre, launched this in 2010, with 185 people taking part.  Since then it has grown enormously and in 2020 over 17,500 singers, many recording … Continue reading

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Imaginary Friends

‘I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space’ Hamlet, II ii We’re all bounded in nutshells at the moment. At an early stage in the pandemic, my best friend needed to self-isolate for … Continue reading

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Dawn chorus

I wake frequently at night.  It’s nothing new – I don’t think my depth of sleep ever recovered from the disturbance of having babies, while menopausal hot flushes have, more recently, put paid completely to long continuous stretches.  I don’t … Continue reading

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Things Unseen

And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses Had the look of flowers that are looked at. TS Eliot, Burnt Norton. Venice must be exquisitely beautiful at the moment. The resident population is low, so the streets will be so … Continue reading

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Let be

With the publication of The Mirror and the Light I am – and I want to say ‘of course’, with the fond exasperation and indulgence one uses when talking of a friend’s characteristic idiosyncrasies, but applying it to myself.  The … Continue reading

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