Ginger was sitting across from me and had just opened her blouse to feed Junior. Sylvie reached the wrong conclusion immediately. She thought that all...was well between us and we were living as husband and wife again.I stood and took her sweater as she removed it. Before I could hang it up, she came into my arms and hugged me to her. "I just knew if I sent you a picture of Ginger in the dress that matched her eyes you would hot-foot it here from Ohio. Or maybe it was your son?" Sit down Auntie.. I struggled to explain in Polish Mr Pollock and the ‘ivory tower’ metaphor – to Mutti Frida’s amusement.When I finally got home later that night, there was no letter waiting for me. But the following morning the postman was a bit early, arriving as I was walking out of the door – and there was a letter for me. I grabbed that one, putting it in my pocket, and left the others for my mother. Once we were on the bus and safely ensconced on the back seat, I pulled it out.It was from the. More

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