I'm here, in my favorite town in California: Pacifica. The surf is right outside my window, and so loud it's like a soundtrack. Tomorrow I'll drive south to Monterey. More photos to come!

Sisters!

Oooh la la! Opera gloves from my sis!

And I gave her a beautiful hand-painted silk shawl, which she tried as a burka.

Uncle Mark, A.J., and Aunt Amy tonight by the tree. Can you see the old sheet music at the piano? "Yesterday" and "A Man and a Woman", from the '60s.

Happy Boxing Day to you all. I'm flying to San Francisco tomorrow night and will blog from California.

My pride and joy (the teenager, not the tree!)






















A.J. loved my gifts to him, incl. Bowie, Iggy and the Stooges, The Doors, Kerouac, Jim Morrison, some Chinese writing utensils and a Chinese calendar, clothing, and "Home Movies" on DVD. And Polly says, "Phew, opening presents is hard work!" (she got a chocolate ball from my sis!). Finally, here is our reindeer, all lit up. I like it, tacky, yup, and fun!

Merry
Christmas
to
your
house
from
ours!

A boy and his dog, or a dog and her boy!

A bit strained still, but you can kinda see my new smile. Kinda. But it still hurts!

We've got the tree up and some lights but no ornaments yet. Saving that fun for tomorrow.

A.J. and I went out to dinner tonight; he had lobster (flown in from the East Coast, still quite fresh and sweet) and I had some shrimp with linguini. Mostly we went out for a mother-and-son dinner and a bit of shopping at a bookstore afterwards. It was really a nice, quiet evening and I'm lucky I have a teenager who actually will go to dinner with me of his own accord, sometimes!

Tomorrow I"m letting him loose shopping at the neighborhood called Uptown, a hip part of south Minneapolis, while I get my hair done. He'll have a blast, I am sure. Hope he doesn't emerge tattooed or pierced (there's a fabulous place in that neighborhood called Saint Sabrina's Purgatory Parlor which is THE place to get pierced, ahem).

Hope everyone had a good day. I'm going to post two photos of A.J. and Polly next, they looked so cute playing on the floor a while ago I snapped a bunch of photos of them.

A New Smile and my Old Back!

They say you are only as young as your spine...well, then today I'm a bit old.

I had one of those back spasms upon waking that literally meant I couldn't stand up without screaming. It took me about an hour to do the essential morning tasks, and for most of those I was stooped over, because it didn't hurt so much if I stayed bent over. Polly had to wait a full hour before I would take her out for her morning pee (would Rachel call that the dog's morning "whee"?). After that, I came in and put the heat wrap around my back, took 1000 mg. of Advil, and called my chiropractor, whom I was already set to see tomorrow. She talked me through the pain (like talking someone down from a ledge, I believe I was a bit panicked)...and gave me practical advice for getting through today.

This was an important day because I had my four-hour dental appt. to have the final stage of the dental implants, well, implanted, as well as the four permanent crowns onto the teeth surrounding my front two teeth.

So I really doped myself up for that, and made my way there, very brave and proud of myself for getting there on time, and they treated me beautifully. I'm home now, on my next dose of quadruple Advil, and managing better. I'm doing a few house chores that don't stress my back, and I'm typing for a few minutes. That's progress.

The new smile is going to look really nice once I'm not all swelled up from the shots. I'm glad I chose one of the whiter shades. Can you believe there are people who choose to have dingier, yellowish shades on their new teeth? hmmm! not this girl!

My back is feeling the effects of too much sitting, studying, and reading, and not enough yoga, exercise, and relaxation. I must remedy this. There has to be a better balance.

I have several weak points in my spine since my car was totaled in 2001. I know this, and I know how I must take care of myself, and I let myself get extra-sedentary during the fall because of school.

For a while in November, I was walking an hour every morning, but I slacked off when it got so Arctic cold.

Now what's my excuse?

I have to get my back in better shape. I will ask my chiro. for some encouragement. I know what to do, I just have to do it!

If you have extra energy, send me some today, please?

Love,
Brina

P.S. Ouch!

I'll post a photo of my new smile tomorrow, promise! And you must see our tree and reindeer.

My Grown-Up Dreams

What did you dream about, when you dreamt about being all grown up and having your own grown-up life?

I have a few snippets of childhood and adolescent dreams still in my head. Some of these are heavily influenced by television and movies!

* I dreamt that I would grow up to be like Mary Tyler Moore, not in the "Dick Van Dyke Show" wife-and-mother incarnation, but as the single Mary Richards in
"The Mary Tyler Moore Show." There were, however, elements of Laura Petrie in my Mary Tyler Moore fantasy, particularly that I would look that cute in leggings and that I'd be a really good dancer. Of course, my current life is darn close to Mary Tyler Moore's TV life. I live in an apartment in the Twin Cities, work, have interesting and funny friends, wear hats which I throw in the air for fun, and I'm spunky and long-legged and funny when I don't mean to be. And my dating life is, um, interesting.

* I dreamt that I would be like Cinderella and dance with the Prince, who would then sweep me off my feet, put me in a carriage, and make me happy forever. Somehow having the first name "Sabrina," which sounded elegant and mysterious, made me more likely to become the Princess. I know it sounds weird, but I did feel special, having such a pretty name. In fact, I told my best friend Joanne that I was a princess from Rumania, when we first met at age seven!

Ahem.

* I dreamt that I would be a wife and mother, do lots of art projects with my kids, like my Nana did with us girls, read a lot of books, learn how to cook, explore the outdoors with the kids, sing to them all the time, bake a lot, and that my kids would laugh a lot. This pretty much all came true, although the cooking skills could use some polishing.

* I dreamt that I would be a sophisticated, elegant, mysterious, and brilliant single woman, and that I would go out to dinner in a big city very late at night with a handsome gentleman who thought I was the most amazing creature ever born. After dinner, we would dance (note that dancing features in most of these dreams), just the two of us, on a balcony high above the city, and there would be jazz music playing, and we would have no cares in the world and nowhere else we had to be. Sometimes in the fantasy we would also go swimming at night in a pool in this very tall building, with a view of the city skyline. I think we would smoke cigarettes too. And after swimming, of course there would be more dancing, swooning, and kissing, and I would melt into his arms. That's the dream that would never end.

Am I a romantic girl, or what?!

Sigh...

* Oh, and there's another one I remember really distinctly: I was going to be a very strong, competent Arctic woman who trained sled dogs! I would live way up north somewhere with a whole bunch of wonderful, smart dogs, and I would have a boyfriend or husband who visited me. I would be very independent, and very happy, and I would wear a lot of parkas, snow boots, layers of clothing, big hats, and no, there's no dancing in this one. Sorry.

Take a look at my dog Polly with her sled dog face and tell me what you think!!!


Ok, I 'fessed up to my girly dreams. What were yours? (girl or boy dreams)

If you follow this link, you can hear some really beautiful songs by Rachel Fuller and Pete Townshend together. My favorite is an old, old song of Pete's called "Sunrise." I am in love with this song. I need it daily.

http://independentartistscompany.com/artist.aspx?ID=22887

Please give it a listen, if you are in the mood to be swept away on a feeling.

All four of the songs are brilliant and beautiful, but "Sunrise" is the dearest to me.
Here are the lyrics (by Pete Townshend):

You take away the breath I was keeping for sunrise
You appear and the morning looks drab in my eyes
And then again I'll turn down love
Having seen you again
Once more you'll disappear
My morning put to shame
You take away the breath I was keeping for sunrise
You appear and the morning looks drab in my eyes
And then again I'll turn down love
Having seen you again
Once more you'll disappear
My morning put to shame
Sometimes I fear that this will go on my life through
Each day I spend in an echoed vision of you
And then again I'll turn down love
Remembering your smile
My every day is spent
Thinking of you all the while
The times I've let myself down
My head's spinning 'round
My eyes see only you
The chances I've lost
Opportunities tossed
Away and into the blue
You take away the breath I was keeping for sunrise
You appear and the morning looks drab in my eyes
And then again I'll turn down love
Having seen you again
Then again you'll disappear
My morning put to shame

Proud Moms Have Bragging Rights!

My son's band just got its first real review! It is only the school paper, but still, it's a start. The review featured photos, including one of my son singing lead with his band.

Now to protect privacy, I've **** out the name of the school and I've not included anyone's last names.

A bragging mom can always find something to brag about, and I'm VERY proud of my kid. This gig featured three bands from his school, and AJ's band, Ocelot Slaughterhouse, opened.

"The Underground" music scene at B**** School
Rising musicians display their talents live

[from the school paper, written by the News Editor]

The dimly-lit Twin Cities Underground offered a welcoming shelter from the cold wind outside. It was Friday, October 28 at approximately 7 p.m., and B***** Night at the club. Just before 7, few people were there. Clusters of girls crowded together on couches arranged around a large wooden coffee table, and band members paced nervously. While three of the four bands set to perform that night were inside setting up their equipment for the much anticipated show, Joey R, Andrew C, and Andrew B, also known as Million Miles Away, searched their contact lists for a savior--in the form of the twenty-five dollar fee the band needed to play that night. Oops! But it was just a minor bump in the road, and not long after the scheduled start of the show, the first band began to play.

People were still streaming in to the Underground and taking seats or standing near the walls as OSH tuned their guitars and took the stage. OSH, a punk-screamo band mostly from our very own sophomore class, features AJ as its lead singer, along with Marjan on drums, Sam on guitar, a friend of the band, Amanda, on bass, and multitalented Zach on everything in between--including the trumpet. The act also included an impromptu guitar solo by a departed member of the class of '07, Matt T.

However, the most featured individual in their act was not AJ, or for that matter anyone on stage. OSH (or maybe just AJ) seems to have some kind of an obsession with Cooper, to whom nearly every song was dedicated. Well, to each his own. But whether it was the loving dedications or their unique sound, Ocelot had the crowd yelling for more by the end of their act.

.....stuff about the other bands....While OSH seemed more Anti-Flag/NOFX and MMA leaning towards the Blink 182/Boxcar Racer end of the spectrum, Flight Plan reminded those listening of a slightly more jagged-around-the edges Foo Fighters...

At the end of the show, I had to admit, I was impressed. Who would have guessed that our school had such an alive and growing music scene? For those who attended, I'd like to thank you on behalf of the performers. For those who didn't, shame on you! But no matter, there's talk of another show December 30th. Same time, same place, same people. Be there, because this isn't a show you'll want to miss a second time. As for a rating, call me biased, but I give it five stars.

Two weeks from now, I'll be falling asleep and waking up to the sound of the Pacific Ocean waves.

Oh my, I am a lucky, lucky girl...

Do you have a soulmate?

We watched portions of "Good Will Hunting" in my Integration class last night. The therapist, Sean (played by Robin Williams), asks Will (Matt Damon) this question in one of their meetings. I was taking notes...Sean goes on to define "soulmate" as someone who challenges you, someone who makes you see things differently and opens you up.

I think that we tend to equate "soulmate" with romantic love, but of course it doesn't have to be only in romantic love.

Do you have a soulmate?

And Will, who is still in a very smart-alecky phase of their therapist/patient relationship, replies, "I got plenty."

We had our Book Club holiday gathering last night. I am pretty much killing myself getting these last two assignments done for grad. school (due tonight), but I let myself have a break to drive out to Meg's beautiful home for the annual feast and book exchange party.

It was lovely, as these photos show you, and we had a great evening together, even welcoming a brand new member (boy, now she'll think we have these amazing meals every time we get together, huh!).

We dined on pork, sweet potatoes, salads, breads, fruit, cheese, wonderful wines, and of course dessert and the traditional Brandy Alexanders. Because I had to leave right after dessert, I couldn't partake of the Brandy Alexanders this year...it's a long drive home and I just don't do that...but otherwise I thoroughly enjoyed everything.

Ok, back to work. In another 10 hours, I'll have completed my very first semester of grad. school. It's been very challenging so far and I love that.

See ya later, bloggers! I love how Mikey (musicmikey.blogspot.com) says that word "bloggers" in his cute British accent. Just love it!

Because I am the little sister, I never knew life by myself. I was born a year and one week after my big sis, and she has always been there for me. I love these two photos, which you can't see really well but which give you a little glimpse of us. We were in matching dresses that day: mine a pretty turquoise and hers a red. You can see the old black and white tv behind us in the living room, and Nana's legs and skirt are visible too. I still don't have a scanner so just snapped these from the photos themselves. I think I'd better remedy the scanner situation soon!

I'm a girl who loves her boots!
One of my blogging friends, Molly, asked us to photograph our boots, and I had a very hard time narrowing it down...so I put some of my favorite boots on the sofa for a group shot, and then I took a photo of my very favorite black sexy boots. You have to admit, these are gorgeous!

Thanks for the idea, Molly. I hear the song in my head...Nancy Sinatra, of course!

Letter home from Camp Hochelaga (girls' summer camp on the shores of Lake Champlain in Vermont), circa 1965 (I was 7 years old):

Monday

Dear, Mommy and Nana,

I love you both.
Also I love camp.
We touht Nadine some words.
We had 3 New Girls.
You must remember very well, for every time we had some food I ate it all.
This afternoon we had for desert - choclete pudding. And it was very good.
Today I went out on a boat.
It was fun. It is lots of fun here but
I still think it is as much fun at home.
I am having rest period. You know what it is like but Nana dos'ent. Please tell her.
I have a surprise for you and you can use it.

love Sabrina.

It's really cold here again tonight. The wind is blowing so hard. A.J. and I brought some Christmas gifts to the "Toys for Tots" tent an hour or so ago. We brought gifts for a little girl this year: a kit for making bracelets, and a sketch/art sort of toy which was packaged in a girly way. Usually we bring basketballs and other sports-related toys. I love bringing toys to the tent, which this year was manned by U.S. Marines. They had a big balloon Santa and a big balloon Snowman out front, both of which were almost blowing away!

Anyway, I've had a chill ever since we did that errand, so I'm going to soak in the tub now and see if I can do my scholarly reading while in the bubbles!

I'm excited about something: I may be adopting a cat named Fuzz. Fuzz is one of seven cats belonging to my California friend J. As much as he loves each of the cats, he admits that they are a bit much, and Fuzz is one who would probably love to be the lone cat in a household.

Now what would Polly think about Fuzz? I don't know! But I like Fuzz, and I love his life story (I'll tell you sometime)...so when I visit in late December, I will see how Mr. Fuzz and I get along, and if it seems like a good match, I will make arrangements to bring him back with me on my next California trip. I would want him to fly on the plane with me in a cat carrier as a carry-on, not in cargo. I have a massive fear of shipping a pet as luggage. They're not luggage, they're alive!

Aw, alright, I'll tell you the Fuzz story. He was one of a surprise litter, because a cat J. adopted was pregnant unbeknownst to him. So when the kittens got old enough to be adopted, J. took them in a basket to the humane society. Just as he was filling out the forms, little Fuzz sneezed! The woman said, "I'm sorry, that little guy can't be adopted. He has a cold. You'll have to take him back with you."

And thus, Mr. Fuzz was saved by a sneeze. And has been with J. and the other cats ever since.

Love it!

Achoooo....

My kid, have to love him!

My favorite Grampa Marvin photo

I'm eating a Grampa Marvin breakfast this morning: a nice fresh Florida grapefruit, a poached egg, and hot tea (Grampa's would have been coffee).

My Grampa had the easy tenor voice of Bing Crosby, the easy dance steps of Fred Astaire, and the quiet wisdom of an Indian chief. In many ways he was my father figure, and he helped to raise us girls and then years later became my friend as well as my grandfather.

He lived to be 92. He's only in his eighties in this photo, which was taken at Slayton Pond, his favorite place of Vermont wilderness. This is exactly how he looked in the woods. He was a great story-teller but also excelled at being quiet. There are a lot of people who are not comfortable being quiet.

A.J. got to know his great-grandfather very well, because Grampa lived so many years and we made so many trips to Vermont. It's really cool when I see A.J. reflecting some of Grampa Marvin's traits. I imagine that some are in his genes, some are in his early memory, and some are characteristics I've encouraged because I would love for him to show that same kind of quiet warmth to the people in his life. He does. I watch A.J. with his friends and I do see it!

I'm feeling under the weather this morning with a very sore throat, swollen glands, and a slight fever. Trying to adapt my plans for today, and just remembering that I have a lot of the strength that Grampa showed me. I have to finish my two big projects for grad. school, both due Tuesday night, even if I am feeling sick.

The summer when I was 15, my nana was very sick with cancer. She's the grandmother in the portrait a few posts down from this one, Mary Louise.

As a gift to her while she was ill, our family friends Nancy and Jack, who were professional photographers, did a special photo session of me and my sister. I still remember what a big deal it was to get the proofs and see them all!

This is one of the photos that is still kicking around from that session, 1972. I'm just 15, and to tell you the truth, when I look at this photo, I can remember the day it was taken perfectly. It was summer, and we took the photos in Nana and Grampa's backyard, with flowers from their beautiful garden. My sister's photos were really wonderful; she's much more photogenic than I and had a real figure at 16! But mine aren't so bad. They definitely have my personality. I love remembering those still-innocent days.

I keep hearing about holiday stress, and people burdened with to-do lists a mile long...

I don't feel that way at all this year.

True, I have much to do, but I'm really feeling relaxed and happy about it.

Even in my grad. school work, which is heavy right now as we head into the last two weeks of classes, I'm remembering to take time to breathe, relax, let some inspiration hit me.

I have been playing the piano quite a lot. It's not on my to-do list. I play Mozart, or Suzanne Ciani (new-age'y piano composer who lives near my sister in Marin County, she's very talented and her music just speaks to me), or Bach, for maybe a half hour, and then I'm refreshed.

I am working on a song which I began to write in Vancouver. I played some of it for A.J., who really really liked it. That was thrilling for me. "How often do you do that?" he asked me. I said, "Not nearly often enough." He agreed. More time for composing. That's a good plan!

Polly and I took time to play in the snow this morning, even though it's only 2 degrees above zero. She likes to eat the snow, like a baleen whale, she runs in a field of new snow with her mouth open, skimming the top of the snow as she runs, getting just the top layer into her mouth, until she's had enough.

Her other snow game is Snow Angels, which involves throwing herself onto the ground (hard!) and rolling all around until she's made a deep impression in the snow. What we call "Snow Angels" as kids...that's Polly...Snow Dog Angel?

My wonderful friend Pam and I did snow angels together once, didn't we, Pam?

I love that!

Hope you are all finding some relaxation in your December.

I am a Good Dog,

says Polly.

And I am very happy today

because Mom just gave me some chicken!

I love my big sis.

My Nana who helped raise me, Mary Louise Mould Goddard. I love having her portrait in my home. Sometimes people do a double-take when they first see it. Do you see the resemblance?

She was a graceful, witty, gentle woman and I do aspire to be somewhat like her (though with my own twist).

A Friday gift: here is one of my favorite passages from The Feast of Love, a novel by Charles Baxter. I don't think CB would mind me sharing it here. And if it grabs you, please go right out and buy his book. It's in paperback and in pretty much every bookstore. The Feast of Love, a novel, published in 2000 by Vintage Books.

I'm not even going to give you a set-up, just read/listen...

He had always loved me and kept that love a secret from me. Every man likes to pretend that he's in the CIA, a holder of vast dangerous secrets. That is why they suffer so in telling you that they love you. But once he was here, in my bedroom, the truth having come out, he talked about it--the love--openly, wretched as he was after leaving the boys. As I said, he was rigorous about that. I was the person you had to pry open with a crowbar.

By late summer, a month later, this particular evening I'd been out watching him play basketball with this kid Oscar and some other guys at a city park. The men were vocalizing, I have no idea what they were grunting to each other, this guy-yelping, and their shoes were squeaking on the asphalt. Actually I loved that sound. I was lounging on a park bench off to the side, sitting there, studying him. He was just in shorts and shoes. Earlier in the day we'd been doing yard work. I thought he was kind of beautiful. I liked thinking about him. My tastes had changed. My concept of male beauty had altered: he was now the definition of it. He'd lunge for the ball, he'd use his elbows, he'd do his layups. I sat there, just watching. I'd thought of playing and decided not to, for now. I had shorts on, too. I thought my legs might distract him from time to time. My legs were prettier than they'd been a month or so before. Smoother and nicer-looking. I don't know why. They just were. Oh, actually I do know why: he loved them.

Behind me, the dogs barked at passing fire trucks, and in another section of the park, two softball teams were shouting some sort of encouragement to their batters and pitchers. The sun sank under the horizon.

When it was finally too dark to play, he joined me. I stood up, and Chloe, Oscar's fiancee, who was sitting on the other bench after jogging around in her Joy Division tee-shirt and whom I had sort of befriended, well, she stood up, too. David came over. David's skin was so sweaty that his hand slipped out of mine at first. Then he reached for me again. He laced his fingers between mine. I could smell his sweat. It was rank. I wanted to have him immediately. He put his arm around my shoulders. I hitched myself to his waist.

We got into his car and drove back to my place, which was gradually also becoming his. We went into the bedroom and lay down together. He was still wet and as his sweat dried he had a sweet heavy smell, like overripe blueberries. God, I loved that.

When we were naked, finally, we were standing up, and then he had his hands on my breasts and he was kissing me. I felt star-spattered. And I was thinking: he can have every inch of me. Sweet Jesus, he can pick my bones clean.

I told him I loved him. It escaped me, just like that. And he was cool: he pretended I hadn't said it or that he hadn't been listening, though he had heard me say it plenty of times before.

Just about then I heard an ice cream truck going by on the street, the Good Humor Man. With those distant prerecorded bell chimes. They're supposed to sound cheery, but they sound unearthly and preoccupied, like death's angel.

And then we were making love, calmer than we usually do it, and I'm looking at David, and my soul--I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's what happened--became visible to me. My soul was a large and not particularly attractive waiting room, just like in a Victorian train station with people going in and out. In this waiting room were feelings I hadn't known I had, discarded feelings, feelings with nowhere to go, no ticket to a destination. It turned out that I was larger than I had known myself to be; there were multitudes of feelings in there. This can happen in any sort of way. I don't care if you disapprove of what I'm telling you or the means I used to discover it. I warned you: I'm not an original. But at that point I felt like one. I'm just telling you how it happened with me. I was a different person than I had planned to be. My soul was not particularly attractive, but the surprise was that it was there, that I had one.

I loved him and we fused together. He didn't save me from anything. I was the same person I always was. But as they say: one phase of my life was over, and another one began.

Stories from our family history, circa 1907-1910:

[My great-aunt Becky wrote a small book of family memories from her childhood growing up in rural Vermont. Glendon, Alice, Phil, Marvin, and Becky made up the five children of the Goddard family; their parents were Dr. A.M. (Anthony) Goddard, a physician who had his office in their large home in Albany, Vermont, and Grace Darling Goddard. Dr. A.M. also had a buggy and horses because he often traveled long distances to see his patients at their homes and to deliver babies.

Sometimes I like to read sections of this little book aloud to A.J. We know the best parts by heart! These three are about my grandfather, Marvin, when he was a little boy. Becky is the narrator.]

...There was also another helper for Mother, a buxom maid named "Mertie" who helped in the care of the younger boys before I came along. One week Dad was to be away for a few days and brought Mother and the two youngest to stay with his folks in Hyde Park. While he was away Marvin fell in the bathtub. This resulted in a large bunch over his rib section, so Mother took him to Dr. Valleau in Morrisville for a check up.
As she removed the three year old's shirt, the doctor, wishing to put the young patient at ease, remarked, "Well, young man, that's quite a bunch you have there." To the mother's distress and the doctor's amusement, the child retorted:
"Yes, but you ought to see Mertie's -- she's got two of them!"

...My sister and brothers attended Sunday School across the street regularly and were rewarded with a Bible Picture each Sunday. Mother was alarmed one Sunday morning with the sounds of a rising wail coming from the churchyard. Hurrying to the porch she saw Marvin running and crying while holding onto his "reward." As he reached his mother he held the picture out at arm's length and sobbed,
"I don't want a man's head on a dish!"
It had been his lot to draw the graphic illustration of the sad end to the life of John the Baptist.

...The first car owned by our father was a two cylinder red Reo of 1910 vintage. This chain-drive vehicle was cranked on the side instead of the front where many broke their arms if the crank let go. I have been told that the chain would break often so he had to either back into a bank or drive into one, depending which way the force of gravity would head him. In going uphill, the power would sometimes be lacking and a passenger would have to jump out and place a rock in back of a wheel if there was no bank handy.
This procedure affected my mother to such a degree that she never again trusted any car that stopped in the middle of a hill. I can imagine the effect some of the hills such as Hitchcock Hill might have had on the early cars and their passengers.

Horses remained, nevertheless, as weather had to be reckoned with and the hazardous roads of other seasons. Our barn had the same amount of hay to feed the many animals. Also, it provided sport for my daring brothers. One day when Marvin was crossing a high beam over the main barn floor to the haymow with his younger brother Phil, he heard a "thwump" below him. Phil had fallen. He lay pale and still. Marvin's descent must have been rapid as the prostrate form of his brother remained there with no sign of breathing.
Horrified by the sight, the older boy bent over his brother and loudly announced,
"Phil Goddard, you're dead!"
and then ran to tell his mother. He reached the kitchen with the awful news to find his brother close behind him. He had regained his breath and was as frightened as Marvin at the thought.

Poem: "The Perfect Day" by Alice N. Persons from Never Say Never © Moon Pie Press.

The Perfect Day

You wake with
no aches
in the arms
of your beloved
to the smell of fresh coffee
you eat a giant breakfast
with no thought
of carbs
there is time to read
with a purring cat on your lap
later you walk by the ocean
with your dog
on this cut crystal day
your favorite music and the sun
fill the house
a short delicious nap
under a fleece throw
comes later
and the phone doesn't ring
at dusk you roast a chicken,
bake bread, make an exquisite
chocolate cake
for some friends
you've been missing
someone brings you an
unexpected present
and the wine is just right with the food
after a wonderful party
you sink into sleep
in a clean nightgown
in fresh sheets
your sweetheart doesn't snore
and in your dreams
an old piece of sadness
lifts away