Well, it snowed again, didn't it. Now I have to shovel, or rather snowblow, again. Uck. At least Ann wasn't driving back to Kentucky in it. Look, Bob, more writing!
Deep under the water the treasure lay waiting. Waiting for hands to take it up, to pull it into the light and air after centuries spent on the bottom under a pile of timbers. The sea had done its best to claim the treasure for its own. Queen angelfish hovered over it, delicately nibbling on the algae-filled coral polyps that obscured the outline through the years. In a very short time the human taint was diluted in the sea. All that remained was the cold metallic tang and the sharp sap of the planks crushed by being driven onto the reef by a long-forgotten storm. Silver blackened and welded together by the salt water held the shape of containers long dissolved or rotted away but the gold lay as yellow and gleaming as the day it was smuggled aboard.
Today I'm resolved (once I get the snow cleared) to not do much. To sit on the sofa and veg, maybe knit or crochet, but mostly do nothing. We'll see if I manage. I'm usually not so good at that.
--Barbara
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