Showing posts from May, 2016

Time capsule treasure

The Botanical Gardens in Southport, Lancashire, do not sound terribly thrilling to a modern audience. But for a five-year-old in the 1960s, they were a portal to another world.

Ducklings and a river. A bird house. Ice creams. Not to mention swings. All perfectly nice and predictable, but for me, the most thrilling part was a quaint museum. I suppose it was simply a mock-up of a Victorian drawing room, but one peeped in and could imagine the days gone by. The mannequins clad in 19th-century garb, were a little scary, frankly, but I can still remember hunkering down, apparently out of sight and staring for ages, fascinated by the bell jars over dried flowers, the wall-mounted butterflies, the embroidered cushions, the leather-bound books on the walls. It was as if I had stepped back in time.
Not surprisingly, I am a fan of historical fiction. The internet now supplies and even feeds this need. I read this genre predominantly – from Sister Fidelma and Brother Cadfael to, well, up to and in…