My father loved boats. He was a medical officer in the navy during World War II and figured out a way to keep sailors with sore feet from asking for his help. He made the sick bay hours the same as the meal hours. He thought if a sailor was too ill to eat then he would certainly miss a meal to get medical aid. We had a number of boats but I was the only one out of a family of six that liked boating. The last boat we had was named Therapy III. I couldn't understand why the name Therapy and why III. I know now. He loved the water so boating was the doctor's therapy and it was our third boat. I miss those days very much. I am surrounded by my paintings and their visual language is my therapy. I am so glad I love what I do and I hope to increase my sales so others can experience the joy I experience.
The extremely noisy miniature Dobermans next door are really acting up lately and their numbers are increasing. We call the two main ones Hitler and Himler. The rest are other members of the Gestapo. They act like they are ready to kill anything that gets close but they are so small I'll bet any one could step on them to shut them up. Such is life!
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