Observe, if you will, these lovely diamond-lace hand-knitted socks. By any reasonable standard of measurement, they would be considered beautifully executed. Suppose, gentle readers, that I told you these were made by my friend Margaret M. in the 1960s, when she was an eleven-year-old stripling? Would you not agree that this is a truly awesome accomplishment?
She brought them by today. I urged her to wear them, now that they've been knocking around for 40-odd years. "It's time," I said. (They still fit.)
|Margaret M. artfully drapes the socks across Alfie.|