When I went to London, I fell in love with dish towels. Well, I fell in love with a lot of things … with the stores, the gardens, the big black cabs, the cathedrals, the tube, the Thames, the bridges over the Thames, the theaters … everything! But yes, the dish towels. Because I have cleaned and rearranged my linen closet, I have a stack — a large stack — of dish towels to iron. (Of course I have to iron my dish towels. Not to would be a travesty with ones like these.) These are 100% Irish linen with bright colorful designs. As soon as I saw them, I fell in love. I bought them by the armful. They were not expensive — at least not by American standards — and they cheered up the kitchen, and me. I can’t remember now (it’s been over half a century) where… Read More »
Is it Kipling, or is it my dad?
Okay, perhaps that is a silly question — of course the poem was written by Rudyard Kipling. At least I’m pretty sure. Dad would sometimes quote “Twenty Bridges from tower to Kew … twenty bridges or twenty-two … wanted to know what the river knew.” My dad was born and raised in England back at the beginning of the last century when, he would sometimes tell me, “British meant best.” Although he loved America, a part of his heart still belonged to England. So you bet I was thrilled when my second assignment in the U.S. Foreign Service was to the American Embassy in London. I remember walking along the Thames thinking of those twenty bridges … or twenty-two. Today when I was sorting through (yet another!) box of papers from decades ago in an effort to pare down the clutter, I came across the poem my dad typed out and… Read More »
