“The mail has come, Val. Do you want to go out and get it?” I called.
Val and Pam dropped their sand shovels and raced to the mail box at the end of our drive. I called again, “You dropped a small one, Pam.”
The children came in the back door, placing various sized envelopes, magazines, and pamphlets on the kitchen table. As I went through them, some of it I knew would be thrown in the circular file. Two bills would go on Fred’s new desk. The last letter was for me from my Aunt Aline. Anxiously slitting the envelope with my paring knife, I quickly scanned her message. Nothing too serious, so I settled down in a kitchen chair to give her note a more. thorough reading.
Seems her Mother, my Grandmother, had started making a quilt. Continue reading