I woke up thinking for some reason about Mildred's sculture stand which is on my balcony. Then I suddenly remembered I'd dreamt about her. It's more hazy now than when I remembered but she was lying down talking about something to me. Mildred was nearly 100 when she died; I used to visit her weekly then as things became worse for me it became less frequent, but she was always dear to me. An artist, she had many fascinating tales of life in Paris in the twenties, New York in the forties, Taxco in the fifties, as well as early Washington state teaching at a rural school, her family's restaurant on Hood Canal, and much more.