Mrs. Leopoldine Masari with Her daughters at the Artist’s Studio
Hans Tichy, 1896
She’d read to me in the big bedroom in the mornings, when we were in her rocker together, which ticked in rhythm as we rocked, as though we had a cricket accompanying the story. She’d read to me in the dining room on winter afternoons in front of the coal fire, with our cuckoo clock ending the story with “Cuckoo” and at night when I’d got in my own bed.
I must have given her no peace. Sometimes she read to me in the kitchen while she sat churning, and the churning sobbed along with any story.” ~ Eudora Welty in One Writer’s Beginnings