Angels in the cornfield

Monday’s entry, “The Good, the Bad and the Sticky,” generated a lot of interest within the comments section, and via my e-mail, and scattered throughout most of my conscious moments since. Rick is doing well – let’s get that said right away.

A few people close to Rick have been accusing Jim and me of being, to use their words, angels. Rick’s wife, Jeanie, serves up in her blog, The Marmalade Gypsy, an argument so well written that I’d be half inclined to believe it if I didn’t know myself better. But I have to admit there are similarities. She posts photos of stone statues of angels, and then a couple photos of me, and we have pretty close to the same amount of hair.

Seriously, it’s all very much appreciated, and if I’m any kind of an angel, I’m just one of however many it is that were dancing around on that particular pinhead (which, between professional rescue personnel and good Samaritans, was a lot, bringing us closer to finally answering that old puzzle). I feel overwhelmed by Rick’s loved ones’ kindness. Which gives you a little insight into Rick’s desire to keep breathing during those nasty initial moments.