Nonfiction | March 01, 1988

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“I hate to sew,” I said to a co-worker who had just told me she was embroidering a table cloth.  “I practically get hot flashes when I have to sew on a button,” I said.  A little later, I added, “I never could learn to knit.  My mother tried to teach me to knit scarves, but all I made were long strips with random holes.”  She laughed, paused, and then said, “Well, what do you do well?” That stopped me.

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