My husband was up to something. He was pounding away at the computer and printing like a madman. When I didn’t hear the whir of the printer, there was the distinct sound of the three-hole punch chewing its way through paper. “I’m working on something,” is all he would say. It seemed to excite him, this project. I wondered what it was. When “it” appeared, it wasn’t impressive looking. It was a plain white three-ring binder. “Open it,” is all he said, smiling. I wondered if it was Read on...