A series on “not-advice.” I spent my summers as a kid in Popcorn, Indiana (a real place, I know), where my grandmother had a sewing room with a magnet that said “She who dies with the most fabric wins.” She was a master creator, making me matching outfits with my Samantha American Girl doll and my brother, knitting quilts for all of her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and inventing twists on potholders and potluck carriers and pot scrubbers. One summer, she took me to Joann ...