With Crocheting Needles, My Immigrant Grandmother Wove a New Life in America
A 16th-Century Folk Art Was Her Passport from Sicily to Upstate New York
The winter rains had subsided for the moment, but the coastal night air remained chilly and damp. My rent-controlled apartment, with its lack of insulation, mirrored the outside evening temperature, as I sat at my desk struggling to meet a self-imposed deadline. Shoes aren’t allowed in my home, not even for me, and with porous window seals in this old building and its wooden floors, my cold feet needed something warm to cover them.
I’d been away from Santa Monica for quite some time and had yet to fully …
