There is a girl named Miss M. I am Miss K. And I have been thinking of her a lot lately. She had a special relationship with amm.

Today, the memory I had, was when Miss K and her hubby, let’s call him Mr. T, came to North Battleford when amm was in the hospital.

They took me for supper.

I wish we lived closer so we could go for supper on a regular basis. But not to the Melting Pot, because we get tipsy when we eat at the Melting Pot together.

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