Mother became an English/fine arts major at University of Chicago in 1928 at the age of 16, studying in the studio of Lorado Taft. Art was part of our everyday life. She would smooth the beautiful, black Chicago dirt and draw a few lines - the art deco period, of course - and make me guess what the rest would be. When we went downtown, we would wander slowly through the city streets as she pointed out all the wondrous Chicago architecture. Then we'd go to the Art Institute, where grandmother had studied before she met grandfather, though mother did accuse me of preferring the gift shop. This book is one of my earliest memories and became one of those links to mother that I cherish. Before it was mother's, it was nana's. Her maiden name is written on the inside cover, scratched out and replaced with her married name. But the paper was cheap, and the book that they left for me is falling apart. So I'll save it here and give it to you. In memory of mother and grandmother.

               Do say 'hi' if you're passing through