This book is dedicated to our mothers.
To Alice Louise Godard Weber,
who put up with me, taught me,
edited me, believed in me,
and encouraged me to believe I could
be a writer . . .
despite all evidence to the contrary.
I love you. There. I said it.
To Jane M. Ringo,
for dragging me to places I didn’t want to go
and trying to make me eat stuff that would
turn a monkey’s stomach.
Thanks Mom.
You were right.