John Baker’s Blog

The Hay Festival is a canvas village. With the rain pelting down all day today (it never paused for a second) the walkways were all sodden, the clientele even wetter.
But I’m already ahead of myself. Last night we went to bed around 1.00 am, the same time as the wedding guests were leaving. We thought [...]

Love - by Pablo Neruda
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the
perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;
how did your lips feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks,
the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten [...]

A sample:
My single friends (and believe me I’m not the only one, there are scores of us) have various solutions to the problem. Marsha, for example, said, six months ago when we had lunch at Nicole’s beneath the bevelled mirrors among a hundred other women identically dressed in pastel cashmere, ‘Alix, you really don’t understand [...]

This is a sample:
Times had changed at the church, too. He could see that as soon as they entered. Oh, physically it was the same - dim and glimmery, smelling of wax candles - but only the very oldest mourners were in black. The others had on every colour of the rainbow, clothes they’d [...]