Now I am rampant with memory. I don’t often indulge this, or not so very often, anyway. Some people will tell you the old live in the past—that’s nonsense. Each day, so worthless really, has rarity for me lately. I could put it in a vase and admire it, like the first dandelions, and we … Continue reading “Foolish I may have been, but never silly.” The Stone Angel by Margaret Laurence