At around this time over the past few years I’ve written about the posh holiday parties I went to. No luck this year. I went from the A-list to the Shit-list (I blame the blogging). So instead of eating fancy canapés and talking with very important people, I went and saw Edna.
Edna was born in 1918. She’ll be 94 years old in January. Her mother died young, she went to a home for children when she was eight. In 1936 the home went bust due to the depression and a shortage of donors.
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