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#edithsitwell — Public Fediverse posts

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  1. "How delicious were those long picnics on the lake, in the wide, flat-bottomed boat, blue-painted, that yet rots somewhere in the disused stables; those long, hot, calm, drowsy, sun-spangled afternoons of childhood spent on that mirror-flat, cool surface, the slow movements and the sound of the rowlocks as Davis listlessly plied the oar, the hours in which we drifted, yet never wasted our time, for if Edith and I leant over the thick blue wall of the boat, we could watch the fish flickering in their checkered mail through trailing avenues of weeds."

    One single sentence. One vivid memory.

    #OsbertSitwell #EdithSitwell #Arcadia

    Osbert Sitwell, Left Hand, Right Hand (1945), page 110

  2. "How delicious were those long picnics on the lake, in the wide, flat-bottomed boat, blue-painted, that yet rots somewhere in the disused stables; those long, hot, calm, drowsy, sun-spangled afternoons of childhood spent on that mirror-flat, cool surface, the slow movements and the sound of the rowlocks as Davis listlessly plied the oar, the hours in which we drifted, yet never wasted our time, for if Edith and I leant over the thick blue wall of the boat, we could watch the fish flickering in their checkered mail through trailing avenues of weeds."

    One single sentence. One vivid memory.

    #OsbertSitwell #EdithSitwell #Arcadia

    Osbert Sitwell, Left Hand, Right Hand (1945), page 110

  3. "How delicious were those long picnics on the lake, in the wide, flat-bottomed boat, blue-painted, that yet rots somewhere in the disused stables; those long, hot, calm, drowsy, sun-spangled afternoons of childhood spent on that mirror-flat, cool surface, the slow movements and the sound of the rowlocks as Davis listlessly plied the oar, the hours in which we drifted, yet never wasted our time, for if Edith and I leant over the thick blue wall of the boat, we could watch the fish flickering in their checkered mail through trailing avenues of weeds."

    One single sentence. One vivid memory.

    #OsbertSitwell #EdithSitwell #Arcadia

    Osbert Sitwell, Left Hand, Right Hand (1945), page 110

  4. "How delicious were those long picnics on the lake, in the wide, flat-bottomed boat, blue-painted, that yet rots somewhere in the disused stables; those long, hot, calm, drowsy, sun-spangled afternoons of childhood spent on that mirror-flat, cool surface, the slow movements and the sound of the rowlocks as Davis listlessly plied the oar, the hours in which we drifted, yet never wasted our time, for if Edith and I leant over the thick blue wall of the boat, we could watch the fish flickering in their checkered mail through trailing avenues of weeds."

    One single sentence. One vivid memory.

    #OsbertSitwell #EdithSitwell #Arcadia

    Osbert Sitwell, Left Hand, Right Hand (1945), page 110

  5. "How delicious were those long picnics on the lake, in the wide, flat-bottomed boat, blue-painted, that yet rots somewhere in the disused stables; those long, hot, calm, drowsy, sun-spangled afternoons of childhood spent on that mirror-flat, cool surface, the slow movements and the sound of the rowlocks as Davis listlessly plied the oar, the hours in which we drifted, yet never wasted our time, for if Edith and I leant over the thick blue wall of the boat, we could watch the fish flickering in their checkered mail through trailing avenues of weeds."

    One single sentence. One vivid memory.

    #OsbertSitwell #EdithSitwell #Arcadia

    Osbert Sitwell, Left Hand, Right Hand (1945), page 110