On Remembering One's Childhood and Playing…

It always amazes me when someone remembers enough about their childhood to discuss it in real detail. Lately I’ve been reading Angela Thirkell’s architecture-memoir Three Houses, which is full of lovely details about staircases and neighbors and people’s full names and has sentences like, “Those were the days when the Dover Coach Road still ran to the south of Welfare’s Green and the miller was living in his little house below the great sails of the windmill and the winter storms brought strange cargoes to Rottingdean beach.”

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