The nicest thing anyone ever did for me
My taste in home décor is what I call “country cozy”—I love antiques and other rustic, old furniture; they remind me of my childhood, when we considered ourselves lucky to have things that were not ours originally, but had been passed down to our family through the love and generosity of people who probably did not have much more than we had. One day about two years ago, I was talking with Craig Cairo, an old friend from my days on the craft circuit. I told him I had moved into the first floor apartment of the two-family home I share with my sister—the Bragg Street house I have referenced many times—and he asked the obvious question, “How's the decorating coming along?” After telling him that I had wanted to paint the walls before moving in, I explained the reason that had not happened—my aunt was hospitalized at the time, but truly believed she would return to the first floor apartment where she had lived all of her life. I went on to say that, even though I suspected my a...