Seemed silly, getting my little digital camera out. "What are you doing?" my wife inquired. "Taking a picture of our letter!" Her smile reminded me of when she looks out in the garden at me getting my goofball pictures of jack-in-the-pulpits and hostas. (I don't know, but I've always suspected that such smiles are not ones of pride or affirmation so much as they are of pity that I can't find something better to do... like fix the kitchen faucet that's been dripping for the last six months).
That's alright. The letter, like my hostas and jacks, comes at great effort and after much waiting. Good things come after waiting, it seems. Consider gestation. Now that I think about it... it was about nine months ago that Starfysh was conceived. Poetic.
The xray equipment made it safely to the island yesterday afternoon.
I'll try to get a picture.