Mud pies and memories of freedom
Open the door and there’s a big green velvet curtain to keep the living room warm, in granny’s bedroom a pretty dressing table set decorated with pink – maybe purple? – flowers. A potty tucked discreetly under the bed. No bathroom. The toilet is outside in a whitewashed washhouse. At bedtime the grandchildren are marched … Continue reading Mud pies and memories of freedom
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