Horace called this morning at ten of nine to say that all the men at the Bass Pro line themselves up (in their trucks) prior to 9 a.m. to shop the shop while the shopping's good. Who knew? They all sport mullets and "thin" mustaches (this I could have guessed), reports my husband. And I suppose fashion forward starts with camou and cap. My holiday cards arrived (fixed and quick!). They look better and PSPrint sent about six hundred more than I ordered (what I'll do with them, I don't know). Back in my graces.
My sister busily sews, cleans and chops (for Mexican dinner fete tonight) in an apartment on 108th Street in New York City. Just like a Johnson to start sewing chair and sofa covers the night before a party.