Ahhh, I miss you, Lola…
Aaaahhh good ol’ memories of warm childhood summer afternoons, barefooted and sitting on the floor in the corner of her room by the narrow secret door…seeing the orange sun rays spill through the huge capiz windows and unto the wide wooden floor planks in long and stretched out rectangular patterns, hearing the floors creak in a very soothing way, smelling the ancestral dust of the old house, while almost being lulled to sleep with the steady drone of that sewing machine as the maid pedals away and alters Lola’s linens —- chu-chug-chu-chug-chu-chug...almost like a far-away train that never approaches.