This is for those of you who missed the first posts about my Portugal Adventure, so I’m reblogging it here.
(I am in the process of editing the first of my Portugal stories. I needed to get up to speed and hope it will help.)
In 1978, April First fell on a Saturday. The balmy day was thrice welcomed after a winter of serial snowstorms, blizzards, and multiple school closing days. The sun was singing our song. My sister Mary and I shared but one thought: beach!
Mary and I had packed what we needed for the trip, and were ready for some fun in the sun. Then the doorbell rang. My dad attended to the door, came back to me and handed me a florist box. I was surprised. I wasn’t seeing anyone, and anyway who sends flowers on April Fool’s day?
I opened the box to find a dozen long stemmed red roses. I dug through the paper looking for a card. They were from Harry…
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