The winters were terrible in cold climates, and she often had been driven to dig herself large underground pits where she waited it out like a mole in the cold months. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. My Mom is hell bent on having the biggest, most beautiful house in the neighborhood, my college education be damned. The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards.
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