Imaginative Qualities of Actual Things - pg. 117

It's hard to describe her overall look, because I can remember only how she looked later, when she was Leo's wife and the mother of two daughters. I always see full skirts, sandals, peasant blouses, hair in a thick braid down her back. She always looked as if she was going out to some wheat field in the Ukraine with black bread for the harvesters. But her face escapes me - a bright, glowing, Scots-Irish face, the father of such a face could easily grow tobacco in North Carolina and serve as lay minister. Sunday suppers of fried eggs, red beans, lettuce, cold ham, apple pie, tapioca, iced tea, and lemonade. Blue haze in the valleys, smell of magnolia and honeysuckle. To marry Leo!