I’ve written about My Book House books before — how they were part of what made me a reader. This is a small series about the literature that came with the books.
This first brochure must be the sales brochure, full of scaremongering and possibly false claims. I suppose this is what my mom first saw. Regardless, I am glad it worked.
Who knew Dad was a poet. This would have been 1994 just a year after the cruise that was the beginning of his decline.
Found this among my mom’s things. I remember calling my folks and telling them the good news. It seems kind of late for a first poop. She was born on the 26th. Oh well, I suppose it has to be true. I thought I spoke to my dad, but it seems that Mom took the message — I think this is her writing.
Clutch Cargo Lips 