Hang the Moon

by Jeannette Walls

My few memories of Mama are like brightly colored birds you see out of the corner of your eye that are gone when you turn to look.

excellent!

We’re a family. There are two kinds of family, those you’re born into and those you put together from pieces that don’t go anywhere else, and this is one of those families. Five of us now. Like mismatched buttons that still keep your shirt closed.

Love this