Yesterday, I thought a lot about making promises. Why, you ask? I went to a baptism. It was in Aylesbury, England for a particularly adorable little British baby named Willoughby James (I happen to think this name adds to his particular adorability). I watched as the vicar (another adorable, British-type of a word) performed the baptismal rites in a 12 Century font, which was pretty remarkable. The vicar said there is actually a whole class of fonts named after the one little Willoughby was baptized in. I didn’t even know there were classes of fonts. To be honest, I didn’t even know it was called a font. So…
Making Promises
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