The Last Place You Ever Live

Within the first forty minutes of our tour, my mother discovers a major problem: The crafts-room is not up to her standards. She doesn’t see a throwing wheel or a sewing machine. She doesn’t care for the vinyl floor or the folding tables. She’s not crazy about the light. If she donated her loom, she asks the sales associate, they certainly wouldn’t put it here, would they? There must be another facility for the serious artisans.