Dingo the Dissident

THE BLOG OF DISQUIET : Qweir Notions, an uncommonplace-book from the Armpit of Diogenes, binge-thinker jottings since 2008 .

Monday 31 December 2012

At the end of the year

I discovered two things quite by accident:

1. a bland or acrid red wine can be greatly improved by adding a small pinch of cinnamon or cassia.

2. (at the age of 71¼) the likely identity of my father. [see comments for more]

4 comments:

Wofl said...

It seems highly likely that my father was a Canadian second cousin of my mother, who had spent a year in Canada before she foolishly and unnecessarily (but patriotically) returned to Northern Ireland in 1940.

He, in turn, spent some time in Belfast during the war, serving in the Royal Canadian Air Force. He was alive for most of my life, in contact with my mother almost till the end, corresponded with genealogists researching my grandmother's family (Rutherford), but never once, after his return to Canada in 1946, did he make any contact with me nor involve himself in any decision about my upbringing.

Three cheers for absent fathers!

Karl said...

The only good father is an absent father. Jesus would agree:-)

Alma Kaselis said...

Well...yes and no. We all know what we should do most of a time. I am a firm believer that one must be guided by heart. Call it us you prefer: obligation, soul, duty.. My grandmother used to say: I do not care if you polite (which you should) but I care if you're good.

Jindra K. Hrdlička said...

My father was, unlike yours, Antoníne, present.
Unfortunately, his contact with me mostly, involved belt.