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In memory of the rummage lines
Some people have treasured memories of getting up really early to go fishing. Not me. Mother and I rose early for just one thing: To go to town to sell rummage.The word “rummage” held a certain allure for me back then. Still does. But the Saturday rummage lines are long gone. I miss them. Lines? Picture of sea of clotheslines. That’s how ...
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