This summer has already seen twin miracles. First, Elizabeth finally delivered the afghan for which I purchased materials in 1995. To put this in perspective, when she promised the afghan, she was a bubbly, enthusiastic college senior; when she finally delivered it, she was an extra-crispy Microsoft burnout shopping for a retirement home. Second miracle: long after we'd both given up hope of her finding it, Annette returned the book she borrowed from me in 1997. If it were a loved one, it would be legally dead.
I'm on a roll, and I want the hat trick. Would whoever's had my "Best of War" cd since the last millennium kindly slip it under my mat?