On Tuesday night we had two friends over — both colleagues of Ash’s, both midwives, one of them the midwife who delivered Ames — to eat soup and talk about Miranda July’s All Fours. All of us had read the book and had talked offhand about finding a time to discuss it, but the plan coalesced quickly last week over text. We were all free on election night, turned out: why not do it then? It would be a useful distraction.
