They just don’t write blogs like they used to. Back in the good old days there was none of this Twitter or Facebook piffle. Web pages were once simple and images didn’t instantly appear but – like a photo being developed – gradually formed out of a pixelated mess. In the 1990s, receiving an email was still a fun novelty. Ah, the how things were better back then. You kids don’t know you’re born.
Contrary to what you might think, it’s not senior citizens who are the experts in nostalgia. At the tender age of thirty, I’m as adept at reminiscing as anyone. I can fondly remember a bygone era where social engagements weren’t cancelled on the whim of a text-message. Foolish sentimentality? We rose-tinted nostalgics are perhaps the ones most capable of dealing with modern-day life. Today’s blog post is for everyone who thinks things were better when they were a kid… Read more
It is said that during our twenties we spend our time worrying about what other people think . In our thirties, we blame our parents for all our problems. In our forties, we finally realise that no one was really paying us that much attention and all our issues aren’t our parent’s fault after all.
London 1940 was a grey place. In June, smog and grey skies made way for sunshine. Not that there was any summer cheer. Homes were in a perpetual gloom because of blacked-out windows. Food was scarce and kitchen broth was the family staple meal. And then the Germans were approaching.





