We moved from Winnipeg to Vancouver in the summer before my eighth birthday. First we stayed with my grandparents, them we moved to a small attic suite, then to a rooming house where my parents had one room with a kitchenette on the main floor, and I had a room in the basement. My dad installed a two-way telephone so we could communicate without having to run through the whole house. Then we moved to another house where my mother got a job as a nursemaid for twins, and my dad came to live with us after a while. We didn't stay in any of those places long enough to celebrate even one Christmas.
Finally, we moved to a house where we stayed for almost a couple of years. We had only one Christmas there--but the tree was a disappointment. The decorations were new, because we had not brought our decorations from Winnipeg. No more revolving lamp shades with camels going backwards. Nor did my mother put up the two-coloured streamers with the big red bell.
I should explain that I got married at age 17, and when I moved in with my husband, I asked my mother to help me count the places we had lived. In my 17 years, I had lived in no fewer than 32 places!
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