Hoping for Grace

In Praise of Craziness, of a Certain Kind On cold eveningsmy grandmother,with ownership of half her mind-the other half having flown back to Bohemia- spread newspapers over the porch floorso, she said, the garden ants could crawl beneath,as under a blanket, and keep warm, and what shall I wish for, for myself,but, being so struck … Continue reading Hoping for Grace