You can argue till you’re blue in the face.

It is Saturday, not yet noon, when the doorbell rings. Jehovah’s Witnesses. They come by every other month or so, always catching me off-guard—dressed in my yoga pants to clean, or midway through cooking up a weekend brunch. They come in pairs, or threes, wearing suits and ties, dresses and patent leather shoes, bright smiles... Continue Reading →

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