One of my earliest memory was being sat in front of the television as I heard the creaking of a metal ironing board being pulled apart behind me. As I turned, I saw my mom plug in the iron, grab a shirt from the basket next to her and unfold it when the TV finally kicked on and I heard to most strange hypnotic music as a man's voice proclaimed: Like sands through the hour glass...How our mom loved her soap operas. So much so that when I told her (as...