Cowls, again. Two from the same cone of Piuma cashmere in a natural soft cream.

The first one.

Me to Hank’s wife: Are you allergic to cashmere?

Her, looking at me with an impish grin in anticipation of seeing what I might be talking about: Maybe we’ll have to find out!

The second one.

Me, to a longtime familiar if infrequent visitor to her husband’s home town: I wanted to ask you your favorite color, but you’re here, so… And I pulled the other cowl out.

Which is how I found out she’s a knitter.

We suddenly had some catching up to do, in great delight, while he waited patiently.