I love to see my socks (and some of Maria’s) out on the clothesline. I sometimes think I married a fairy, she uses her artistic powers to whiz through my life and brighten it, sometimes in small ways, something in big ways, from windowsills to walls to gardens to my feet.  I am too slow and dim to grasp it sometimes, I have to stand back and look at those socks, and think, “wow! Where did they come from, and why am I wearing them, and why did it take me so long?”