I was digging around today looking for a picture someone bought and I mislaid before I could send it, when I came upon a series of original acrylic postcards I sent to a long-distance lover a few years ago before we went from sizzle to fizzle.

In addition to the bigger red-fish painting, I also finished another I started months ago of Blue-headed Wrasses. Now that I'm in the mood to fix things, I tackled that one too.

I got so busy and otherwise involved that I didn't painting anything for almost a month. I started this painting at a Bay City Art Walk in July, but was so uncomfortable being watched that I gave it up. It just wasn't going the way I had intended at all.

On an elevator at our local hospital, where I was delivering a Sunday New York Times to a friend awaiting imminent quadruple bypass surgery, I encountered a man in his fifties or sixties carrying too many roses to count.

I get quiet for long periods...I don't like to complain in the present tense. I get everybody worried who reads this and things usually pass eventually. So I can report that although I've been through hairy side-effects for three different meds, I am now off all of them and walking my three miles again.

At last, after all sorts of guessing as to causes, my strange two-week depression and long cry jags are over. It happened just like that. How such a quick cure? I quit taking Prevacid.