... my "baby" Ann made her appearance in a great big hurry. Happy birthday, Ann!
It is the season of bugs. There was a nice big earwig hiding under the bathmat today and I am entertaining a family of gnats and a small moth here at my desk. I don't know what they could be gnatting about since there's no food except Tic Tacs. Ah well, good thing I like natural history.
Jennifer, I hope your surgery goes well tomorrow. We miss you at writers and I'm sure Helga misses you on the Wii. Horst and I are going steady now, but I still love the step aerobics best.
July 13--Claude Monet, The Waterlily Pond: Green Harmony. Emmaline was always glad to look at art. She had an affinity for it, she thought. When she saw art, any art, classical or modern, photo-realistic or impressionist, she felt a tug in her middle that made her stop to look at it. She felt that she basked in the art, like paintings and sculpture emitted waves or rays or vibes that washed over her and into her to sink deep into her soul. She turned the corner into another gallery and stopped dead, feeling like she was poised on the edge of a pond. Spread across the entire wall in front of her was one of Monet's Waterlily paintings. The cool, soft greens and blues, dotted here and there with pink and lilac, washed into her like a glass of wine, loosening her muscles and making her feel as if she were floating in air, swimming in the trees.
Monet's always good for a journey out of this world, don't you think?
--Barbara
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