I bought a picture frame on Saturday.
It’s just a simple, black, 5-by-7-inch frame with a plain white mat, suitable for the black and white photo my daughter took on Christmas Eve of our dog, Scotty, sitting at the feet of my dad (a supposed dog opponent).
If I’d taken the time to hunt in the storage closet upstairs, I probably could have found a similar frame, or certainly one that would have sufficed for a picture of the dog.
But the point was, I went out to buy the frame. On Saturday. At...