March is a problematic month for me, being one of those two or three in the year in which anniversaries and memories--those both deleriously joyous and desperately sad--seem to congregate and coalesce in an inescapable, and sometimes overwhelming, swarm. My granddaughter's birthday. Our dinner of grace and the death of Mr. Right's first wife. "Fifteen… Continue reading Just a Daughter’s Memories: Nigeria 1959
All Purls. No Swine.