Remember the mermaid painting I have grieved a whole year over leaving in that little shop in Gulf Shores, Alabama?
She was still there when we went back last week. I brought her home with me this time. Her name is Anna. The fish beneath her is still scary looking.
Anna is a little thicker in the middle than I remembered but she still has the loveliest arms. I am envious of pretty-armed people.
Why do "things" bring us pleasure?