Once the larder would simply have been a small room which was kept cool. We have one in the basement at Edgar Buildings, it's inbetween the kitchen and the 'housekeeper's room' and is now used to store books. We try and imagine it looking like this 1700 painting (at theNewport Museum and Art Gallery, South Wales).

On the Post this week: Larders, inspired by an article about them in the Financial Times. Our mothers all had larders but eventually they began to be thought 'old fashioned' because of refrigerators, freezing, packaged food, 'convenience' food and finally frequent food deliveries. Some of us still have larders and the wooden (or sometimes, luxuriously, marble) shelves are where we store tins and vegetables and dried food and bottles, oh they are indispensable. Ideally they smell faintly of cinnamon and fresh mint and turmeric and icing sugar. Now, for ecological reasons, and because kitchen manufacturers have realised that a larder is a new 'must have' accessory, they are having a moment. Here is one you can buy from Plain English). It is beautiful but only little detail – a genuine larder has a tiny window or at least outside ventilation whereas this looks as though it has been fitted into an alcove so actually is not much different from a cupboard. But it is a thing of beauty.

A year and a half ago Raymond Briggs published a new book. Time for Lights Out is about old age, or rather it's about getting older. Something that happens to all of us, to some at Persephone Books more than to others. This is another work of genius, essential reading for anyone over 70, Persephone readers younger than that can save it until they reach that milestone. It's not enough to say chapeau! to Raymond Briggs. He should be recognised as one of the absolute greats. Here is Justine Jordan's interview with him when he published Time for Lights Out.

Raymond Briggs's parents also inspired 'the shockingly apocalyptic When the Wind Blows (1982). This harrowing story, written during renewed Cold War tensions, satirised the dire state of Britain;s nuclear contingency planning. Jim builds a useless bomb shelter following  official government advice, but to no avail: a nuclear strike sees the couple die slow and painful deaths from radiation poisoning' (Art Quarterly).

Ethel and Ernest was also made into an unmissable film, here is the trailer. We shall show it in the shop, or rather the Parlour, this winter.

Ethel and Ernest is Raymond Briggs's 'most emotional and tender work. A mix of comedy and tragedy, it is filled with the working-class couple's perspective on subjects spanning politics and class, to education and sex, all set against a background of world events, societal shifts and technological developments. No wonder the book is used in schools as a chronicle of twentieth-century life. It is also an autobiography of sorts, full of personal memories and recollections' (David Trigg in the summer 2021 Art Quarterly). In fact Ethel and Ernest is a great novel and one day will br universally recognised as such.

An exhibition has just opened in Winchester (it is on until 18 August, details here), curated by Nicolette Jones and lent by the House of Illustration, about the life and work of Raymond Briggs. His Ethel and Ernest (1998) would be one of our desert island books and naturally we sell it in the shop. For those who haven't read it, it tells the story of Briggs's parents from 1928 to 1971; Ethel and Ernest is a great and enduring classic and an unforgettable homage to parenthood and to qualities like decency, good nature, 'mustn't grumble', uncomplaining hard work, attributes that we used to think of, proudly, as British but in the last four years our belief system has been destroyed.