The Real Drug, I Came

The Real Drug, I Came To Believe, Was Love.

Although Salinger Had Long Since Cut Me Out Of His Life Completely And Made It Plain That He Had Nothing But Contempt For Me, The Thought Of Becoming The Object Of His Wrath Was More Than I Felt Ready To Take On.

A Good Home Must Be Made, Not Bought. In The End, It's Not Track Lighting Or A Sun Room That Brings Light Into A Kitchen.

You Lay Your Hand Against His Skin And Just Rib His Back. Blow Into His Ear. Press That Baby Up Against Your Own Skin And Walk Outside With Him, Where The Night Air Will Sourround Him, And Moonlight Fall On His Face. Whistle, Maybe. Dance. Hum. Pray. (how To Calm A Crying Baby)

It's Not Only Children Who Grow. Parents Do Too.