“Half memoir, half travel, A Yank Back to England...is an absolutely wonderful book, not only about going home again but also about love and family and tradition and the passage of the years.”
—Michael Dirda, Pulitzer Prize-winning literary critic (Washington
Post)
To see the entire quote, click here.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Christmas at St. Paul's

“Remember when Denny took us up to Saint Paul’s for a Christmas Eve service?” Lew asked Mum.
“Lovely. Lovely place, Saint Paul’s.” Jessie spoke with solemn reverence. “Lovely place. At Christmas – that’s when we went.”
“Packed it was. Packed!” said Lew.
“Anyone would’ve thought it was Christmas.” I could not resist.
“Don’t you laugh,” Lew looked at Frances. “Holy communion, they had, and everyone, I mean everyone, went up for it – everyone except us, that is. I couldn’t believe it, took ages. Do you remember that?” Jessie shook her head and shrugged. Lew went on, “Well, I bloody well do. You turned around and said ‘they’re tearing the balls out it,’ that’s what you said. ‘They’re tearing the balls out of it.’”
Frances looked a bit disturbed.
“The choir was wonderful,” I added.
“After midnight, it was. Denis had a car then,” Lew said, recalling.
“Just as well he did. That’s why he can get around and we never could.”
“Don’t start that again,” said Lew.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Awesome!!! St. Paul's is supposed to be gorgeous. Lol. You've gotta good sense of humor. *SK*