Today while I was out and about, I saw an old man picking wildflowers at the side of the road. That just tickled me for some reason, made me glad. I wondered what the rest of his story was. Was there a little old woman waiting at home? Would he swing jauntily into his house with poetry and wild flowers? Would she squeal with delight and call him 'dearest'? I had a nice afternoon imagining a story to go with that little glimpse.

The pathology report is in. There were two tumors, both benign.