Jeni Barnett

In this world of exhausting alternatives, there’s nothing more woke than ‘Manifestation’. You can, we’re told, manifest health, wealth, love and perfect self expression, or you can’t. Affirmations and Gurus are now part of everyday life. But, they say, it requires a life time of gratitude to get the angels to bale you out. I … Read more

Royal Tunbridge Wells is home to Beau Nashes’ architecture, the legendary tiles he laid down in the Pantiles and of course Mr.and Mrs.’Disgusted’ who put this affluent town on the map. Not forgetting the creation of Subbutio and Tonbridge Ware, boxes of inlaid wooden marquetry which are displayed in the local library. We moved 6 … Read more

I was born into a bedstting room, a slum. Alie Street, near Aldgate East tube station, had a view of a little Synagogue. When I first started at LBC I was asked my history. Relishing the badge of honour, growing up in poverty, I said; ‘That slum is now an Indian restaurant with less than … Read more

The ‘oosbind has now become an old git. He’s living with cancer and mild dementia, he’s as skinny as a chicken, and ever so slightly distant. It is, however, all deal-able with because he’s still living. A lot of his compatriots have died but he’s hanging in. Thankfully he wasn’t always like this. He was … Read more

I’ve never really been a drinker. Food was the drug of choice for my family. Eating – Yiddish Essn – was a hobby. They say the Italians talk about lunch at breakfast, dinner at lunch and breakfast at dinner. The Jews are the same. Competing for the best chopper liver. The best chicken soup. The … Read more

As the CEO’s of South East Water sup on their over inflated salaries the rest of us were thrust into chaos. The kidney unit in Tunbridge Wells had to shut down. 192 kidney patients were farmed out to various other hospitals. On Tuesday I stood in the road, the rain splotching all over me, at … Read more

So far this past fortnight we’ve lost three friends. Cancer, kidney failure and more cancer. They are gone but not forgotten. When my father died I was encouraged to go see him. My editors on GFL said I would be sorry if I didn’t attend his funeral. So I schlepped all the way to Luton. … Read more

Sunflowers are dying. Butterflies will disappear until next year. The garden, paths, and roads around the cottage are covered in tiny leaves, the world has turned orange. The Virginia Creeper is dark magenta. Red berries cluster on the holly. The leaves have been falling for weeks, the trees are now bare. The maple has dropped … Read more

In 1967 I went to drama school. I had never slept away from home, never eaten sushi, never walked alone in Leicester Square. In 1967 I was eighteen, singing along with ‘Lucy in The SKY with Diamonds’ and buying the ‘Evening Standard’ for the classified ads. Scouring the back pages for flats was exciting. In … Read more

I always thought that cupboard – ‘cup’ ‘board’ – was Called an elision. It is in fact a double pronoun. I looked up examples of double pronouns and decided life was too short to get involved with grammatical definitions. But I have alway loved the word ‘cupboard’ when I saw that it was two words … Read more