This Sunday’s paper carried a story today about Muriel Spark (the author probably best known for The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie). As a teenager, she wrote letters to herself from imaginary admirers and pushed them between the pillows of the couch for her nosy mother to find. One such letter included a pseudo reply from Muriel which read “Dear Colin, You were wonderful last night!”
Ah, what a good little girl I was by comparison. I completely lacked the creativity to even think up such naughtiness, but even if I had, I was a rigid rule-follower. I didn’t even break the “no-talking-after-lights-out” rule at the boarding school I attended as a teenager. I can only hope I’ve grown up a little in that regard. One thing I do know is that I no longer have all the right answers I had then.
The second item that struck me from the papers today is an advertisement from Harrod’s department store for a Gingerbread House. It’s quite a fabulous house, and resembles the houses we used to make at my German grandmother’s house every Christmas Eve.
Harrod’s is selling their Gingerbread House of £150 (about $250). We children might not have eaten our houses so readily if we thought we could make so much money from our efforts.