The Ghosts and the Unicorn

Phew! Not managed to update in a while. The office is busy, the studies are demanding, there are people to see and Christmas cards to write. And that was no straightforward operation, because in November I very carefully selected each person's card from Rosie Anthony's collection of winter wonders (frozen holly berries! frozen lakes! robins foraging for food! Christmas lights, warmly glowing, thank goodness). I had umpteen windows open on my laptop, finding each name's number, matching to a photo, then hunting through screeds of email and text messages for addresses. As well as looking through old conversations, with town and street names being evocative I found myself picturing their homes, out in the December night.


I listened to Tracey Thorn's new Christmas album, Lorraine Bowen's podcast interview with Barbara Moore, and Tavener's Christmas Round. That's my favourite.

I couldn't find the mental power to write long individual messages, but each one had a memory attached to it. That seems a thing this year - feeling a bit worn out and disorganised, but finding the Christmas spirit very touching, for the here and now people, as well as the been and gone. Last week I read the second Storyteller Christmas Special, and it made me think of my Mum's Mum, Joyce, who gave it me nearly thirty years ago. As I get older I realise what a short space of time I had with her, but this funny little purchase is a nice touchstone for thinking about her.

Yesterday, in the midst of present shopping and discussions with my sister, Katie, I had a dig through the bargain bin outside Charing Cross Road’s Any Amount of Books. You’d be a feel not to. I found a copy of The Ghosts by Antonia Barber, which was filmed in the early seventies as The Amazing Mister Blunden, looking like the perfect thing for the season (I already have a reading list as long as my arm, of course, but it’s hard not to respond to things like this). It was an imprint I’ve not heard of before, Unicorn Books, edited by the children’s poet and folklorist and anthologist, James Reeves. Look at this list of advertised titles! Some names stand out – Doctor Syn, Evelyn Waugh, Peter Dickinson – but everything else is a mystery. Evocative of another world in publishing, reading and, I suppose, writing too. What on earth is Grandad With Snails or Moon Eyes or Honey in the Horn about?

The tantalising stories of another time...