In the pantheon of superheroes, there’s only one whose adventures I enjoyed as a child. The others bored me. Rosamund likes her, too; and is a princess, a protector, and a survivor in her own way.
Nothing gets me over-excited like trying out a new way to knit a familiar shape. I hate stopping to eat, or answer e-mails, or see people. I just want to go go go go go go until I find out whether it’s going to work or not.
I’ve tried to start this post with about a dozen different cheery “It’s fall y’all!!!” greetings, but as I write, it’s the first week in October, and there’s just a…
I grew up in a family of Jewelry Guys. Guys like my grandfather. He wore dark, conservative suits to work; but at leisure, he treated each finger to a fat, gold ring and fastened thick ropes and chains of gold around his neck and wrists. The term “bling daddy” was not then in common usage, so my grandfather was described by Marv, his favorite jeweler, as being “a connoisseur of the finer men’s accessories.”