Our first Christmas as man and wife was especially tight financially. No problem. We were in love, and we brought with us a tradition of making gifts for one another. I chose to make Dennis a corduroy jacket with a pocket on the sleeve. (Stupid, stupid pocket.)

Our apartment was about the size of a walk-in closet, so I sequestered Dennis in the "living room" while I sewed at the "kitchen" counter. He read while I snipped, pressed, basted, and stitched. Then I ripped that darn pocket off more than once. Finally, the stitching was perfect. I shouted, "The pocket looks great!" [...]

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