From My Grandmother's Files: The Verandah
by Shirley A. Littleford Johnsen, edited by Kirsten Ellen Johnsen
The sun blazed through the screening of the verandah. Through its heat the brilliant pink-red bougainvillia blooming outside the window cast blushing shadows throughout the room. They shimmered on Mother’s white silk dress, and tinted shadows fell on the tea table, on Mother’s hair and on the wicker furniture. Writing pad on her lap and pen in hand, she sat in her wicker rocking chair. She seemed to be waiting for inspiration to add to her already lengthy letter to her mother and five sisters back home. Letters went out every Friday and arrived in California a good six weeks later. It was the pre-airmail era of the early thirties and we were halfway around the world in Rhodesia.
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