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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=565475" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>(My Mother) Retirement Plans</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=565475" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">“When I grow old, ” said my mother, “I’ll change my life.<br>I’ll rent a garret on the Left Bank of the Seine <br>in Paris, give up being a mother and a wife, <br>spend my days painting, drink red wine all night, <br> my friends will be artists - maybe I’ll write.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=565475" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">“But what about Dad? ” I objected. <br>My mother reflected. <br>“He’ll be okay, ” she said. <br>“He’ll buy a djellabi, sandals, a scarab <br>and live in the desert, along with the Arabs. <br>He’s learning the lingo at evening class. <br>He’ll go over to Gaza” – I thought, what a gas! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=565475" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I’d spend April in Paris, winter with Dad – <br>there was going to be some fun to be had! <br>I hoped that my parents’ dreams all would come true – <br>but after all that they just moved down to Bude!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Janice+Windle">Janice Windle</a></strong></div>

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