29 August 2010

Eight Year Old Wishes and Dreams

My eight year old daughter and I were enjoying a rare moment with just the two of us, being lazy and lying on my bed in the middle of the afternoon. She, with dreamy look in her eye, said: "Mom, wouldn't it be fun if you and me, just the two of us, were drifting in the ocean on a great big comfortable bed?"

I agreed with her that that sounded delightful. We had fun imagining the sun warming our faces, a sweet breeze moving us gently along. Then, she added the perfect final touch, eyes glowing:

"Wouldn't it be great if the bed had a mini fridge? And it was filled with meat?"

She meant the grass-fed, humanely raised, beyond organic kind, of course.

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Never Enough Words

When I was little, in our house in San Francisco, my parents – the wonderful Larry and Rose – hung a banner on the wall. This was the 70’s: ...