A reminder: This blog is my journal (and I gladly share it with the whole wide world). A few of my friends in Livingston will comprehend the enormity of the following statement. For the first time in five years, I have fingernails. No, I didn’t “chew” or “bite”; I “picked.” I was always experiencing stress because my “landlords” found fault with me. “Picking” was involuntary. Since I’ve been in my new home—with a wonderful owner/manager of this RV Park—my fingernails have grown. Yesterday, the owner/manager (unsolicited) brought me fresh food and said: “I love your bottles.”