Second-hand memories.

So true.

As I reread my letters from France to my parents in South Africa, when we lived in Marly-le-Roi between 1986-7, I am intrigued by both what I chose to write about, what I thought may be of interest my Mom mostly and how some of those memories are crystal clear and others feel like someone else's rather dated and second-hand memories.

My letter of the 1 December 1986.

I am telling Mom a story about Shawni. 'She's learning to dress and undress herself at the moment. Anyway, she pulled up her dungarees one morning, looked at me and said 'et voila'. Too sweet, one of these days I might not understand her.'

It is wonderful that Mom kept these letters, I try to recall the moments I write about but mostly I don't, but I can imagine what it must have been like to hear Shawni dropping in French words!