“No, my dear, a modern bra like that just won’t do for a dress like this. The art is in the wrist, the ankle, the elbow, the neck.” I know well ...hat she means. My Oma has been teaching me the thrill and skill of the hunt since before that magical movement from girl to woman.I roll my shoulders slightly forward to release the tension on the spaghetti straps and reflexively unsnap my bra, slipping it from my shoulders. I note Oma’s approval as she hands me a fifty-year-old piece of silk. It. Saturday morning, July 17, 2010. I woke up to the smell of coffee and stretched, then headed for the kitchen. Lori was sitting at the gourmet counter sipping her coffee, "Good morning, baby," she said with a loving smile."Good morning, honey," I replied with a loving smile of my own as I headed for the coffee pot to get a cup.I came to the gourmet counter, pulled my stool in close and leaned over for a kiss. We fell into a gentle lingering I love you kiss, but then Lori broke our kiss and took. More

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