One night, I stood in the middle of my Art Family, and my Art Family held hands around me like in the hippie days trust-falling, and we sang “Slow Poke” or “My Buddy,” or harmonized on the “Idaho State Song” or “Song of Bernadette” or ...

She loved to read poetry and when she got a keepsake from Bertha Supple of that lovely confession album with the coralpink cover to write her thoughts in she laid it in the drawer of her toilettable which, though it did not err on the side of luxury, was scrupulously neat and clean.

“WDYT,” she IM'd Sophie, wondering what her new friend thought of the idea. Sophie, sitting next to her, quickly IM'd back “G4I” to show her support.

The old bridge won't be safe to use until it is replanked.