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of uncouth and naughty boys, and then she offered me a Cadbury bar. That was another of her favorites — chocolate, and the richer the better.
Mother loved the taste of butter, and explained to me one day that she was saving my father money. She told me that since she didn’t frequent beauty parlors, in her mind, butter was a much better bargain.
My first piano lessons were with a bitter little nun that had bad breath and scared me to death. She’d place her bony hands atop mine and scream at me when I didn’t get a note correct.
My mother wanted me to learn to play and found a different teacher that lived near us. I loved Mrs. Booth and her two furry dogs and flourished under her direction.
I would sit and play the piano for hours while my mother would read or knit. Her favorite composer was Chopin, and even though she couldn’t read music, she knew when I’d made a mistake.
She discovered Carlos Castenada before I did when I was in college and introduced me to Wallace Stegner. She devoured Agatha Christie’s novels and always reminded, me how clever an author she was.
Our bathroom always had a different scent because my mother loved soaps. But she refused to use grocery-store
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