Money in the hand is real - coins and bills. The rest I don't believe in, and I don't think I ever did, really. What's a check, after all, but a promise - mine, the bank's. Me, I know, but the bank?
I have found this to be true, that one sin begets a dozen others.
What do you do with mother love and mother wit when the babies are grown and gone away?
What cook can match herself against hunger and memory?
A humane and authentic book written by another voice from the trenches.
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