Yesterday morning I amused myself with an exercise of a talent I once possessed, but have so neglected that my performance might almost be called an experiment. I cut out a dress for one of the women.
				I have a superstition about saying too much about what I want to happen, just in case it all disappears, or someone else comes along and beats me to it.			
				
			As far as the men who are running for president are concerned, they aren't even people I would date.			 
			

