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March 20, 2007
A soft, grey morning, threatening rain. The damp air and scent of spring remind me of England, and I feel a gentle nostalgia for the times I spent there with my father, both as a child, visiting his parents, and as an adult, visiting him after he retired and returned to his native land. I have so many happy memories. A friend just came back from a week in London, and she is bubbling over with its many joys and pleasures: the theaters, art galleries, pubs, shops. She shines with her own happy memories, and reflects mine back to me.