I believe in soft pajamas, the kind that are tucked away in dovetailed drawers and marinated in vanilla, rose hip and mulberry wax chips.
I believe in lemon pancakes, big ones, the size of a dinner pate stacked as high as if they were made by the cat in the hat.
I believe in thick top-shelf moisturizers like Eucerin and LaMer slathered on as if to counteract summer sunburn or a winter windburn.
I believe in cotton sheets washed with a full Downy Ball and dried with two sheets of Bounce.
I believe in low wattage light bulbs in bedside lamps, the kind that illuminate enough to read about the Lupine Lady, a tree in Brooklyn or an old man and the sea without keeping you from drifting into afternoon dreaming.
I believe in dogs, the kind that climb into your bed and wrap themselves into a perfect ball before nestling into you with just enough pressure to convey their love.
I believe in mismatched quilts, the kind that is constructed from the soft pajamas of generations gone by and layered against the bedspread in Arcadian-like rhythms.
I believe in a golden pond, a Sundance kid, a prince of tides and Peter Pan.
I believe in Walt Whitman, Emily Dickenson, bitterroots and chrysanthemums.
I believe in sail boats, the kind that are made from paper and tooth picks and rest on bathtub moorings.
I believe in family albums, old journals, and forgotten year books, the kind that showcases history with most intimate relevance.
I believe in parking in the garage, turning off ringers, closing the drapes and taping milk caps over doorbells.
I believe in home movies, the kind where you walk in the shoes and carry the handbags of your grandmother and great-grandmother, wrap the ties and pin the cufflinks of great uncles to your pajamas and deliver congressional style speeches in front of the fireplace before high stepping through the kitchen to Sinatra.
I believe in lick the spoon baking, the kind that is followed by chocolate cake for lunch.
I believe in knitting at least one pair socks, painting at least on watercolor and playing at least one song on the piano.
I believe we are never too old for Crayola and never too young for online trading.
I believe in snow days and the lifetime of gifts we get from them.
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