Having solved that weighty matter, let's move on to whatever. A good friend, whom I spend a lot of time with on the weekends at the lake, truncates many, if not most, of her sentences with whatever. She gives a it very definitve downward inflection; end of discussion. It's rather contagious for some reason and I find myself imitating her, whatever.
So what now. I just stared out the window for about 20 seconds. Oh yeah, the yellow roses painting of the last post sold this weekend. And someone else is interested in a similar painting, only larger. That's a good thing, isn't it? For the nonce,
Here is Fishermen's Dock, prints available, original sold. I imagine those fellows on the Chesapeake are hauling up the oysters as we speak.