40 Comments

Word perfection Mr Diacono! Loved it, of course.

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Thank you Mike, very kind of you. What a great place substack is

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I love saying hello to people while walking the dogs. Sometimes they respond with a wide smile and possibly stop for a chat. Other times I see panic rising in their eyes as they force out a strangled” morning” before hastily marching onwards. Sometimes they just ignore me.

My sister in-law lives a lot of the year in Grenada and brings back long strings of lemongrass and many nutmeg usually still wearing their overcoat of mace. Also coconut oil poured into empty rum bottles which I can never get out because it’s never warm enough in my house for the oil to melt. I’ve asked her to put it in jars instead!

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Everyone should have a sister who brings them spices from Grenada!

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"Whinging bagpipes"!

My feelings exactly, although the song also evokes sadness these days, with memories of family who have died

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It’s such a string peg in the ground isn’t it

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*strong!

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I listened to this instalment rather than reading it. A rather lovely experience as if you were speaking just to me in that moment.

Renting a telly! I remember that… such a different era. And having to be in to watch a program… we’ve lost that sense of anticipation.

Seeing Paul McCartney? Oh wow lucky you! A dear friend (sadly departed for too soon) and I used to bore our school friends by loudly singing his and Beatles songs… lovely memories. We saw Wings in concert many years ago back in Holland.

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I love recording it, so that’s very good to know - thank you Marjan. I’m envious of you seeing Wings - what a band, yet suffered by inevitably being measured up to the Beatles

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Betamax or VHS tho? And bless you for nutmeg syrup. It sounds a-mace-ing

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One of the advantages of being proper council is that by the time we could afford a video recorder Betamax was well a truly defunct! And for the pun you shall be royally flogged when I next see you

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Is there anything cosier than nutmeg? Perhaps cinnamon.....

Instead of time travel, I used to believe travel to other worlds was always possible, having being hooked then and now on the lion, the witch and the wardrobe, I would climb into by mothers huge wardrobe, carved from dark wood, and sit there with my eyes closed, hoping for the snowy pines to appear. I would have even taken the white witch if I could just get there. Or on walks to school on deeply foggy mornings, I was sure if I wished hard enough as I passed through the fog that I would end up in Disneyland on the other side.

What it is to still believe anything is possible. Thank you for your beautiful writing as ever Mark. Particularly as it conjured up memories I had forgotten.

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The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe is responsible for so much magical daydreaming isn't it. I really must reread it. And thank you for your lovely words. Nutmeg (and mace) win the cosy award for me, though cinnamon is a pretty good runner up, it's true.

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I am terrified of losing my closest friend. It'll come I know, but I don't know how I will ever feel happy again. Beautiful, Mark.

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I know how you feel. I love mine like a brother. Thank you Nic x

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Brandy Alexanders and After Eights memories of Christmases past. My mother had a silver basket for After Eights which she passed around the adult table after Christmas dinner. The children’s table got Roses or Quality Street.

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Those peculiar splits between what the grown ups got and the kids! That is very much an old Christmas feeling

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Rite of passage, moving to the adult table.

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A sweet cocktail is often a welcome substitute for dessert, and I reckon this is most certainly better than a classic Alexander. Thanks for always sharing the magic, Mark.

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Thank you Valerie - I have to say I prefer it. I hope you think so when you try it

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I’m sure I will and can’t wait to try.

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That’s a keeper! ❤️

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*lifts bowler hat*

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What a treat it is, sitting in the black, dark, pre-dawn Napa Valley, having a coffee before my morning swim, to see your images of your coast and hear your voice and words marveling about time. We are in a miraculous age, horrifying as much of it is, and it’s lovely to be reminded of that right now. Lovely post. Thank you!

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Thank you Bonnie. You have perfectly illustrated the impossibility of the everyday - how can you in dark Napa Valley read words I finished only a few moments ago on the other side of the world! I hope you had/have a great swim

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Marc, this sounds delicious. Do you strain when using? Thank you.

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The syrup? I usually do, unless in a terrible hurry!

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Sorry - Mark.

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Yes the syrup and thanks!

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I identify with your reflection on technology and impossibilities - I've long been fascinated by how things progress. I couldn't even imagine the things I was working on during the 1980s and early 1990s playing such an important role in our daily lives.

It's a bit like nutmeg itself...a spice that was once so precious it sparked wars and is now sitting quietly in out-of-the-way spice drawers. And thanks for the added bonus of finding out about Grenada's outsized role in global production.

That nutmeg syrup recipe is intriguing - I imagine it drizzled over morning pancakes and other baked goods...Although I certainly wouldn’t turn down a Brandy Alexander, which sounds like an excellent holiday drink.

Perhaps I'll make both the syrup and the cocktail - after all, who knows what impossible things might seem possible after a Brandy Alexander or two?

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I like the way you are thinking Jack - all excellent possibilities with the nutmeg!

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Renting a telly, yes. We briefly had one of the coin-operated ones too, a particular cruelty for a family not blessed with endless silver. Christmas as a kid had two McCartney songs attached to it: The Pipes of Peace and The Frog Chorus one... both kind of gloriously awful. Lovely writing.

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And thank you

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And with a casual mention of McCartneys back catalogue you have established our age difference, you b£&8@?$. By coincidence, I saw him last night and spent almost three hours thinking ‘That’s the actual Paul McCartney from the actual Beatles singing songs I’ve grown up with’

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Re the syrup - "As is often the case, homemade knocks shop bought into a cocked hat." A cocked hat! Love. What a beautiful paragraph, Mark. Sorry about all else I could have mentioned but that sentence brought a smile and I had to write it down. Thank you.

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Thank you Frances! That's cheered this grey December morning greatly

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I'm so glad.

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Sorry Mark, I’m playing catch up with Substack at the moment. Brilliant words once more. Mull of Kintyre Is my most hated song of all time Mark. 🤣 I have to block my ears. The cocktail sounds delicious and is one for Christmas Eve I think. X

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Never apologise JP - it’s a joy to have your presence here as and when! Thank you and apologies for invoking your least favourite song x

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🤣🎅🏼

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