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  • Jewels from the Roving Stove

    Guest Post by: Rachel Cree-Lowe
    My earliest memories are almost entirely based on colour. The way the sun looked coming through the leaves as my Aunt held me in her arms and splashed with me in the pool as vivid shades of green dancing above our heads. The cool blue of my cousin’s room with the blinds were drawn and light seeping through hitting the blue walls. Bright red strawberries hanging on a vine and the deeply rich insides of a pomegranate. It was all so intense and exciting.

    Julie Anne was a finicky eater who hated pickled beets, too

    Smell was another thing altogether. It was intense but overpowering – and not in a good way. I clearly remember sitting at the kitchen table… all other plates and dishes long cleared away, washed and back in their places but I sat at the table with a plate holding the dreaded enemy… over cooked carrots and peas.

    The orange had long faded from the carrots and they just sat there smelling watery and just ready to make me gag. My older cousin had this… Keep Reading »

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