Overheard at the Writer’s Conference
(for Tania) “We’re like lacemakers, a lost art of lovely life going, going, gone. Gone the way of quilting bees and fireside readings of “Gone with the Wind.” Gone, like all hope of any kind of spring after this bone-chilling winter.” But the earth softens, trumpeting daffodils, splitting crocuses and color comes up, all green…
