I once had a neighbor whose living room was a study in cellophane; a parody of luxury as nothing was ever enjoyed, walked upon or even touched. I was a child at the time and while visiting her children, I, as well everyone else, knew never to even touch the door to the living room much less enter. I often wondered if there was treasure buried there or something like that. She once told me that the slipcovers on the Victorian sofa would only come off for a visit from either the Pope or the President of the United States … Continue reading →