I've been having this persistent memory of going out to breakfast with my mother when I was very young, most likely in the late 1970's. The memory only has so many facets, but it's strong. I can feel the sunlight pouring through the windows-it must have been a nice warm summer day and I can feel that the aroma of the restaurant was so
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There's no particular reason why that memory stands out, but it does.
That and scribbling all curly on paper and saying it was cursive and writing myself notes in "cursive" and not being able to read it.
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