My husband, a truly talented writer, addresses the president on one of his favorite subjects, beer:

“Dear Mr. President,
A laurel to you for your willingness to roll up the sleeves and help bury that hatchet between Messrs. Gates and Crowley. Boy that one almost got out of control on us!
The reason I even clicked on the link to the story about this patio diplomacy, was because the headline said something about you and Joe and these two guys having a beer together. “This is great!” I thought. “Our youthful President with his blackberry will shed light on the important matter of beer in America!”

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Anna Maria Horner, an artist and mom, and probably the 2nd happiest person I know, wishes herself a happy birthday:

“I went into Eleni’s (5) room yesterday morning to wake her up with a hug. Leaning in to her sleeping bubbly face, I scooped my arms underneath her pillow and my right hand ran across about 6 marbles that she had tucked under pillow. How awesome, I thought. She has marbles under her pillow. I wanted marbles under my pillow. I didn’t know why I wanted marbles under my pillow in that instant. It just seemed so fun. Youthful. I never asked why they were there, or told her to get the marbles out of her bed. I was just glad she is little. And happy.”

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