I hadn’t thought about heffalumps for many, many years. But as Lucy and I walked tonight, I told her we were patrolling the neighborhood for heffalumps. I laughed as I explained to my dog about why the inhabitants of the Hundred-Acre Wood are so scared of these fierce imaginary creatures.
If anybody had heard my conversation with Lucy, he might have thought I’d gone mad. But I was just having joyful fun — and Lucy didn’t seem to mind.
I had meant to watch Disney’s “Christopher Robin” when it came out last summer, but I didn’t get around to it until Tuesday night. For me, the movie doesn’t get magical until Madeline — Christopher’s daughter — unexpectedly meets Pooh, Piglet, Eeyore and Tigger while they’re on the way to London to save Christopher’s job. Every moment from there on is wonderful. But nothing tops the last few minutes — when Christopher, his wife Evelyn, and Madeline join all the animals for an afternoon in the Hundred-Acre Wood.
It was at that point when I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to be part of this loving fantasy of family and whimsy. And it brought tears to my eyes.

Wall Street protester accidentally illustrates power of voluntary action
Maturity asked me to learn that I’d never win certain arguments
Smallest ray of hope can make us feel a change we need is coming
Donald Trump is an evil man, but his political enemies are evil, too
We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
‘This path leads to somewhere I think I can finally say, I’m home’
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone