Winning Phryne

Winning Phryne

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Chapter 20

Jack looked in the mirror and tried again to get the knot on his tie to at least look presentable.  In frustration he untied it and again tried to get it correct.  Finally, he thought that it would have to do and let out a long breath, not really pleased.  Phryne had a gift with his tie and he shut his eyes tightly as he realized that it might be a long while before she came home; if she woke up at all that is.  Mac had told him she would, but sometimes he felt overcome with abject worry and desperation to see her beautiful eyes looking at him.

Getting dressed presented problems for him.  His arm ached abominably; just trying to get it into the sleeve of his jacket hurt like the dickens he decided.  Mac had been treating his wound with Lisozyme, a salve to prevent infection from developing.  She had also told him to ask for some medication for the pain when he needed it but he didn't like the numb and fuzzy feeling it gave him; better to just work through the pain he decided.

Mr. Butler had cleaned and pressed his black suit.  As he looked at himself in the mirror he admitted that what was wrong really didn't have anything to do with his clothing; it was the task he had to do today that presented the problem.

This morning was Rosie's funeral.  It was important for him to attend, he knew that.   Annabelle and John had handled everything as George was once again ensconced in City Gaol.  Commissioner had decided to let George out to attend the service, with the understanding that he would go immediately back to gaol with the conclusion of the service.

Annabelle had been very steady through it all, and of course John had stood with her all the way, through the scandal and Rosie's death. It could have taken a terrible toll on his position at the bank, but John himself was beyond reproach, considered an exemplary financier that commanded deep respect.  If others were talking behind his back, (and undoubtedly there were some people who did) they were very careful to keep it from him.

John and Annabelle had stopped by the hospital last evening to see how he was.  It only took a few seconds for them to see his deep love for Phryne and his anguish that he couldn't help her right now.  They'd tried hard to lift his spirits and encouraged him to just love her and be patient. 

That was the hardest task of all.

Convinced that nothing else was be to done about his appearance he headed downstairs and was greeted by Mr. Butler asking if he wanted breakfast before he left.

"Just some coffee, please," Jack answered, not sure if his unsteady stomach could take anything else.

"Sir, might I say that I believe that it would be good for you to eat a little something.  Might I suggest toast to go with the coffee?"  He didn't want the Inspector to think him to be too forward but he definitely looked a bit peaked this morning.

Jack nodded to please the older man; he was concerned about him he knew.

"Won't be but a minute, Inspector.  Would you like to sit in the dining room?"

"No, I'll sit in the kitchen, thank you."

"As you please, Inspector."

Jack followed him into the kitchen and watched as the impeccable butler poured him a cup of coffee, added sugar, which he knew that Jack liked in his coffee and sat the cup and saucer on the table in front of Jack.

"The toast will be done quickly.  Would you like jam or marmalade with it?"

"No, I think plain will be better, Mr. Butler.  I'm not quite sure that it is going to sit well with my stomach."

"Of course, I assumed as much. I'm sure this will be a trying morning, Inspector, if I'm not being too presumptuous.

"Not at all.  It is not a morning I am looking forward to.  I'd much rather be at hospital with Miss Fisher."

"Certainly, I do understand."  

Jack saw a look of something that was akin to fear cross Mr. Butler's face.  Jack was familiar with that.  Mac repeatedly told him that she would wake up, but this was the 5th day and mostly she just lay stiffly in the bed or thrashed around a great deal.  Both scenarios were hard to watch.

When the toast was ready Jack managed to choke down one piece with his coffee and decided that was all he could handle.

Mr. Butler accompanied him to the foyer and handed him his overcoat and hat.  When Jack told him thank you Mr. B uncharacteristically laid a warm hand on Jack's shoulder and said, "You are one of the strongest persons that I know, Inspector.  You will get through this."

Jack nodded and tried to smile but it didn't quite work, so he turned abruptly left the house, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. 
He hoped that Mr. Butler was correct in his estimation of Jack's strength because he knew that was the only thing keeping him steady.


Sidney paced frantically in the dingy parlor of the small cottage they were using as a hideout.  He'd seen the notice in the paper that stated that Rosie's funeral was today.

He was in turmoil; his precious love, his childhood companion was being laid to rest and he couldn't be there for her.  In his mind he had completely rationalized her death and that it was all her fault for him having to shoot her.  He'd forgiven her of course, but he still couldn't go to the funeral, unless he came up with a good disguise.

Things hadn't been going his way since his arrest on charges that were ridiculous.  He'd only been helping those girls but the Melbourne Constabulary refused to see that point.  No, instead he'd been handcuffed and taken away like a criminal!  They'd refused to bring his personal physician in to treat his wound, telling him that the gaol doctor would take care of it.  He'd shuddered when he saw the man and grimaced over his lack of cleanliness.  Still, it was all the treatment he was going to get so he muddled through it.  It still hurt like the dickens though he thought, rubbing his arm slightly as he remembered the gunshot.

That bastard Jack Robinson had had the nerve to actually shoot him!  How dare he?  He should have been taught as a school lad to have respect for his betters, but obviously he hadn't the sense to see it. 
Sidney knew that the problem was that he was jealous about Rosie, that she had left Jack to be with him.  She obviously had made the right choice; she was his jewel.  He'd wanted to tell Jack that he had personally enjoyed the favors of his wife that he didn't want to share with her.  A woman, such a beautiful woman deserved to be lavished with love and attention and Sidney had done his best to give it to her.

Before he left Melbourne he was going to make sure that Miss Fisher and Jack Robinson each were killed in the most distressing manor possible.  He wanted them both to suffer, to watch as they were tortured in front of the other.  He'd also take Miss Fisher, let Jack see how a real man pleases a woman.

All that couldn't be done until he has his passage away secured.  And THAT was proving to be the biggest thorn in his side; finding a safe way out of Australia.

Neither Rudy nor Scotch Barlow, another associate that Sidney sometimes employed had found Patch Bigelow.  It would be helpful possibly if they knew his given name because Patch was only a nickname.  Still, even asking about a Bigelow hadn't helped either.  So it looked like he was going to have to find another way out of here and taking a ship from Melbourne harbor didn't look like it was possible.  The boys said the docks were heavily covered with coppers and he'd likely never make it to a ship.
Possibly he might go over land to Brisbane or even farther to Cairns if he had to.  It wasn't a good choice but it was better than just sitting here waiting fruitlessly while twiddling his thumbs.


Elise and James Robinson arrived at the church for the funeral before Jack did.  They decided to wait outside for him suspecting that he would need their presence with him.  It wasn't usual for an ex-spouse to attend such things but Jack was above all a man of honor and felt it would be bad form not to attend.  So here they were, standing in the chilled air while their breaths made small puffy mist as they exhaled.  A few minutes later Jack arrived and both his mother and father were alarmed at how gaunt he looked and pale, very pale.  He was wearing himself out trying to be with Phryne constantly.  Even yesterday, when Elise and Amanda stopped in to see if anything had changed he hadn't looked this badly.  It must be nerves over the funeral.

Actually, that wasn't really the reason; Jack was feeling overcome with guilt over his marriage.  He'd thought he had put it all behind him but this funeral was just another reason to heap more guilt on his soul. 
Rosie hadn't deserved to die like this, or at all for that matter.  If he'd been a better husband, if he'd paid more attention to her and cherished her more, than she wouldn't have turned to Sidney Fisher as she had.  She'd be safe now, instead of dead.

As a constable he saw far too many dead bodies; he should be inured to it, but he couldn't be with Rosie.  He'd not seen her body because he'd been too occupied and worried with taking care of Phryne.  In truth, he'd not known that she was dead until later at the hospital, when Constable Collins had told him.  He'd managed to push it out of mind for the most part because his worry was so focused on Phryne, but every now and again a pain hung heavy on his heart as he thought of her.

He greeted his parents with a hug for his mum and a handshake for his father.  He couldn't even express how grateful he was for their presence today and he felt just a bit steadier as he walked in, his father's arm across his shoulder and his mum on the other side her dainty hand on his arm.

Inside they greeted John and Annabelle.  John had always been Jack's best friend and both Elise and James liked him a great deal; he was actually more like a son to them as anything else.  He and Jack were practically inseparable as children.

"Annabelle, I'm so sorry for your loss.  Such a terrible tragedy.  Please, if there is anything I can do for you, you'll let me know?"

"Thank you so much Elise.  Roberta delivered enough food this morning to feed an army and we're very grateful for that kindness.  We're not having a gathering after the funeral; we think its best just to let things be, considering it all."

"Yes, I understand," Elise murmured.  She gave Annabelle a hug before they all took their seats.

Not many people attended the service and it seemed that most of them were only there to gather gossip.  Jack tried to keep his cool as he heard the nasty, hushed voices around him but that was no easy task.  Still, he refused to let it get to him; instead he tried to focus on the early years with Rosie, the good times.

He wasn't entirely successful, but when the service was over he felt a bit of relief and possibly a bit of shame over it.  But it didn't matter in the end.  He just hoped he made peace with his past; it was the most he could hope for.

He drove back to Phryne's home to change before heading to the hospital, anxious to see her.  He focused on seeing her and touching her, it's what he needed right now more than anything.


When Jack finally arrived at the hospital it was just quarter past two, much later than he usually arrived.  As he walked into the room he saw Mac and Dr. Harrison examining Phryne.  Aunt P and Miss Williams stood to the side, watching, both wearing a distressed look on their faces.

"Aunt Prudence, what is happening?" he asked, kissing the woman on the cheek lightly as a greeting.  Her name, or the more familiar 'Aunt' didn't yet flow easily off his tongue but they were family, of a sorts as she believed them to be engaged.

"She may be waking up; something has changed as they examined her.  Or, if that isn't happening, she might be passing, Jack." She saw the deeply panicked look on his face and said, "We just don't know yet.  Please, hold on to your faith.  Say a prayer."

Praying wasn't something that came easily to Jack.  He tended to put his faith into tangible things rather than the intangible.  Still, the past few days he had prayed a few times and if it did nothing else it had made him feel a bit better.  He sent up a plea to God, to a supreme being to please let her wake up, to be okay.

Yesterday he had noticed that the bruises on her face were starting to fade to more of a yellow, with only shadows of a bluish tint in them now.  He'd taken that as a positive sign, even though they were still worried about her fever and infection in the gunshot wound.  They cleaned it often and again, it seemed to be getting better.  The swelling around the wound was also down a bit as well, another good sign.

Mac and Dr. Harrison were still talking quietly when he stepped up to the bed and took Phryne's hand.  It still felt a bit warm, but hopefully the fever would go altogether soon.
Suddenly Phryne opened her eyes and sat straight up in the bed and called out, "JACK!" then immediately fell back into the bed covers.  Mac rushed to her side, followed closely by Dr. Harrison.

Jack continued to hold her hand and called her name.  Her eyes opened again and she looked around the room and blinked.  It was damnably bright in here she decided, using her free hand to shield her eyes.  Miss Williams immediately rushed to close the blinds, rendering the room a bit more shadowed.

Phryne looked around at the group and focused on each face in turn.  Finally she looked at Jack and heard him tell her he loved her, how happy he was that she had awoken. 
She squinted a little as she looked at him.  The room still seemed too bright but her eyes were adjusting a bit. 

"Phryne, my darling.  I am so happy to see you awake.  How are you feeling?"

Darling?  The man standing next to her and holding her hand was exquisitely handsome and he had the most beautiful eyes she thought.  But why was he calling her 'darling'?

She tried to speak and found her mouth abominably dry, it felt as if it was full of cotton.  The woman with red hair quickly realized the problem and grabbed a tumbler and filled it from the pitcher on the bedstead.  She held it to Phryne's lip and watched as Phryne drank deeply until Mac pulled the glass away.

"Not too much, Phryne.  It could make you sick."


Jack leaned over and kissed her hand; his love was awake.  He smiled at her again, his heart overcome with joy.

She was startled by the gesture and immediately pulled her hand away from him. "Excuse me?  But just who are you?"

To be continued…

Hi everyone!  Sorry to have missed the last few weeks but we're back on schedule now.  Real life has a way of kicking your behind and mine has been a target for awhile.  The good news is that my daughter is doing much better now; the bad news is that most of us in the house have had the flu and still has 3 grandsons down with it and home from school.  LOL, try being here with 3 cranky, bored kids!  Yikes…

Thank you all so much who take the time to read and comment as well.  I am terribly behind on answering comments but I'll try to catch up.

By the way, I often post messages on Face Book about what is going on.  If you would like to friend me on there, you'll usually find out if the post will be delayed.  You can find me at Cyndy Klein Hodge.

Monday, January 12, 2015


Winning Phryne will be publishing on Wednesday's from now on.  Since I have two stories going at one time this will help me to keep things a bit less complicated since trying to post two of them at once can be kind of stressful!

Thank you all for hanging in here with me


Monday, January 5, 2015

Chapter 19

Sidney woke up as dawn spread fingers of gold and orange over the city.  The house was quiet and terribly cold.  He shifted to sit on the edge of the bed and grimaced as the bed springs creaked loudly in the pale light.  His feet hurriedly searched for the slippers that were on the floor, which was abominably chilly feeling.  He yanked on a heavy robe and damned this creaky old house that didn't keep out the cold one bit.

He headed into the kitchen to see if Earl had returned.  He hoped to see him nodding off in the chair as he was prone to do but instead the room was cold and empty, just as it had been last night.  For the first time it occurred to Sidney that Earl might not be coming back and he felt the first vestiges of panic start in his chest.

Without Earl, he had no way of finding Patch, the somewhat illusive cousin that only Earl seemed to be able to find.  Patch was only a nickname to complicate matters further, so unless it was widely known it would prove a further obstacle in finding the blasted man
Sidney took a mental inventory of exactly what he knew about Earl and it added up to nothing; a big fat zero.  He didn't have any other family as far as Sidney knew; his mother had passed a few years ago and his father a year later.  That was the total sum of his knowledge of his right hand man.

Next, he headed into the living room to start a fire and as he entered the room he saw Rudy, asleep on what passed as a settee in the room.  Anger streaked through him at the sight of his lazy employee, mouth open and snoring like a freight train.

Sidney yanked a pillow out from under his head and watched dispassionately as it startled Rudy enough that he jerked and fell off the settee.  He quickly scurried to his feet and saw his boss staring at him with a nasty gleam in his eye.

This wouldn't be good, he knew.

"Sleep well?" Sidney asked softly, deceptively as his eyes narrowed with anger.

"I…I, well, sure, Boss, sure."

"I believe I told you to report back when you had news of Earl?"

"I, um, yeah, you did.  It's just, well you were sleepin' so's I just let yer be."  His words were met with a stony silence that suddenly frightened him more that anger would.  "It's jus that he um, well, you see, Boss, Earl, he be dead.  Shot, probably shot hisself.  That's what Blackie Balder told me.  Fell on the gun, he did."

"Shot himself?"  The skeptical look on his face told Rudy that his boss wasn't pleased at what he'd been told and likely didn't believe it. 

"I ain't lyin', Boss.  Fell on the gun the coppers said.  That's what Blackie said."

"And just who is Blackie?  How would he know?"

"Blackie be the bloke who runs the shoe shine stand right outside of the City South precinct.  All the coppers talk with him; they was in a big tizzy to find the person who shot Miss Sanderson, he said."

"Are Robinson and Miss Fisher dead as well?"

"Uh, no sir.  But the lady detective be in hospital.  They's alive, both of 'em."

Sidney wished he had something in his hand to throw; his anger strangled him, the irony of the situation.  His beautiful Rosie was dead and those two dared to live!  He was incensed, furious and the venom of his fury nearly choked him.

Rudy took a step backwards, forgetting that the settee was behind him.  He fell back against it and it tipped over backwards with his weight.  He ended up on his back, feet in the air and a solid lump on his head.  He tried to scramble to his feet, knocking over a table in the process.  As he struggled to his feet he saw that Sidney's face was fiery red and he pulled the table and settee back to rights, making sure to keep them between him and his boss.

"You idiot!  Be careful!" Sidney spat, further infuriated by the clumsiness of his employee.

"Yessir," Rudy said, rubbing his head.  When he looked at his fingers he saw blood on them and felt a bit woozy at the sight; he didn't like the looks of blood, especially his own. 

"Do you have any idea where to find Earl's cousin?  The one who was going to take us to Singapore?"

Rudy knew that they 'us' didn't include him.  He also didn't know Earl's cousin and didn't have a clue where to find him either.  He was starting feel a bit faint he realized as he felt a slight trickle of warm blood start to roll down his head.  Dirty fingers swiped it away and he stared in horror at how much blood was on them.  A warm feeling washed over him as he crumpled to the floor.

Sidney let out a loud groan and cursed the man for his clumsy stupidity.  He was utterly useless Sidney decided as he headed into the kitchen to brew a bit more tea.  He'd give him 10 minutes to wake up and then he'd kick the imbecile awake if he had to. 

There was just no such thing as a good employee any longer.


Prudence and Dot sat vigil with Phryne, watching as she moved restlessly about the bed at times, still as could be at others.  A few times she called out for Jack, but mostly she was quiet and still very pale.

Dr. Harrison, Mac and the matron checked on her frequently, but never seemed to find any change to her condition.  She was running a slight temperature, but given everything that had happened they weren't alarmed about it, at least not at this time.

No one could tell if she'd do better if Jack were here now, but, while Prudence mulled over whether or not she should ring him.  She finally decided to let him rest and refresh himself; he had looked positively haggard when he left this morning.  Dr. Macmillan had told her that his arm wasn't serious, but that it was plenty painful for him so Prudence settled for carrying on with Miss Williams, who was quiet mostly, saying her rosary over and over as nimble fingers worried the beads.

At 10 o'clock a nurse brought in a tea tray complete with biscuits and while neither Prudence nor Dot was hungry, the tea was welcome and the small plates with biscuits gave them something to do with their hands.  The efforts of hospital staff were noticed with approval by Prudence who was a member of their board.  

At this point all they could do was wait and that was the hard part Prudence admitted.  No matter how much she wished Phryne to wake up, it was beyond her control, a very bitter pill for her to swallow.


Jack stood and looked at Phryne's bed; a bed that they had shared briefly a mere 24 hours before.  It wouldn't be fair to say that he regretted that they hadn't made love at that point; both of them had been so tired that it wouldn't have been what either of them wished.  Still, now in retrospect he had regrets that he hadn't at least allowed himself to hold her, as he had wanted to do. 

Mr. Butler had done his best to rally him with a hearty breakfast, of which Jack managed to choke down part of.  It tasted like pasteboard but that wasn't due to Mr. Butler's lack of skill but rather Jack's lack of enthusiasm about eating.  His family might have laughed over that as Jack was perpetually hungry and never missed an opportunity to partake in whatever food was offered.

He knew he needed to telephone his mother, who be now would be anxiously waiting to hear from him but all he wanted right now was a warm bath.  Mac had told him not to get his wound wet, so a shower was definitely not in his picture.  He turned the taps on and adjusted the temperature before heading into Phryne's dressing room in search of clean clothes to put on after his bath. 

He spotted one of his favorite outfits that Phryne wore, a white cashmere sweater that she usually wore with white wool trousers.  He held the arm of the sweater in his hand for a moment, feeling the softness of it and brought it up to his face and was positive he could smell Phryne's scent on it.  He inhaled deeply and felt tears sting his eyes once more before he hastily closed them tightly, trying to shut away the pain and fear, an action that didn't work very well at all.

He gathered his things and headed back to the bedroom so that he could turn the taps off before he undressed and slid carefully into the warm water.  He'd forgotten to ask Mr. Butler if there was any other soap in the house; what was here was a lovely smelling Castile and while quite nice, he doubted if the fragrance would do anything for him.  Still, it was what was here so he hoped that everyone would ignore the floral scent on him
He had to admit that he felt a bit better as he climbed out of the tub.  He was still extraordinarily tired and as much as the bed was calling his name for a nap, he wanted to call his mother and the hospital to check on Phryne.  They had promised to let him know if anything changed, but he needed to make sure they hadn't forgotten.

While Elise Robinson was happy that Jack called her, she wasn't happy about the news or how tired her son sounded.  He promised her that he was going to sleep for a few hours and then told her that he was staying at Phryne's home for the time being.

That was an excellent idea she later told her husband; it would help him to feel a bit closer to the woman he loved, to be among her things.  The judge wisely nodded his head in agreement and thought privately that his dear wife's philosophy was more from a woman's perspective than a man's.  But, if it helped his son even a little bit, James Robinson would be happy about it.  His son needed all the little bits of peace he could get right now.

After Jack spoke to his mother he telephoned the hospital and talked with Dr. Harrison.  No, Phryne hadn't awoken yet, no, there was no change; she still was a bit restless which was common with head injuries and yes, she still had a bit of a fever, but they weren't worried about it yet.

Jack hung up the phone, relieved and worried at the same time.  He was relieved that she hadn't gotten worse but worried that she wasn't better.  He sat on the small chair by the telephone table and ran his fingers through hair that was already a bit disheveled.  He hadn't put the pomade in yet to help keep his unruly locks into place; he had figured there wasn't a point until after he woke up from a nap.

Mr. Butler, hearing the inspector was off the telephone entered the hallway and called out, "Inspector, is there anything I can get for you?"

"No, thank you, Mr. Butler.  I'm going to try and sleep for a few hours."  He started up the stairs when there was a knock on the door and waited while Mr. Butler answered it.

"Hello, I'm Chief Commissioner Matlock.  Might Inspector Robinson be available?"

Jack stepped down the stairs and greeted the commissioner, not at all surprised that he'd come here to see him instead of his own house.  "Commissioner, come in."  Jack showed him into the parlor and asked, "Would you care for some tea or coffee?"

"No, I won't be staying long and that is apparently a good thing; Jack, you look done in.  My boy, you need to sleep."

Jack nodded, "Yes, that is next on my list.  Have you any news about Rosie's murder?"
"Unfortunately, no, we haven't any more leads yet.  I stopped by to tell you that George Sanderson woke up this morning.  Apparently he's in fairly good shape, considering everything.  The damage to his body could have been much worse."

"You've seen him?"

"No, Annabelle let me know."

"I'm thankful he is okay; Annabelle and John have enough on their plates with Rosie's death.  I plan to telephone her, but, well I just haven't had the chance."

"Understandable, Jack.  They know about Phryne and I'm sure they don't expect to hear from you immediately.  Now, I must go, I just wanted to tell you about George."  He walked to the front door and placed a hand on Jack's good shoulder and squeezed it lightly, an attempt at a show of compassion for the younger man. Their eyes met briefly and they shared a brief nod before Matlock left.  Jack sighed and closed the door before heading upstairs to the bedroom, to sleep, perchance to dream? 

Even Shakespeare failed to bolster him right now.


Two different households in Melbourne decided to try and help to keep everyone's spirits up by providing food.  It was the way that both Mr. Butler and Elise coped, by taking care of the ones they loved.  Elise was already willing to embrace Phryne's 'family' so her job was to make sure they all got through this the best way they could and that meant that their stomach's wouldn't go hungry.

She arrived at the hospital with two large baskets of food for the group, just as Jack arrived with another.  The waiting group had been offered a private waiting area, something that most likely occurred because of Prudence's connections with the hospital.  A table was soon laid with an appetizing, if impromptu meal.  Bert and Cec both headed to the table, Bert because it was something to do and Cec to fix a plate for Alice; he worried about her and knew that she needed to eat. 

Soon all of them were sharing a somber meal, except for Jack who had eaten before he came, thanks to Mr. Butler and his way of making sure that he got exactly what he wanted, which at this time was for the inspector to eat.

Aunt P and Dot both joined the group, followed by Mac, who was thankful for the food.  As a doctor she'd learned to sleep and eat when you could because you never knew when you might have the chance again.

In Phryne's room it was Jack's turn to sit silently with Phryne.  It bothered him to see her so restless and on the few occasions that she moaned or called his name a sprig of hopefulness burst from his heart, only to be torn away as quickly as it blossomed.

Mac wandered in and out and try as hard as he might, Jack couldn't determine if she were worried or not.  He'd hate to play poker with the good doctor because she was a master at hiding her thoughts.

For three days the routine stayed much the same, Aunt P and Dot with her in the mornings and afternoons and Jack watching over her the rest of the time.  Often he spent at least a few hours in the bed with her, as the pain in his arm allowed, and she seemed to take great comfort from his warmth.  He read Shakespeare to her, the Sonnets which he thought she might like.

Late on the fourth night she almost sat up completely in the bed, thrashing wildly and Jack went to hold her to keep her from falling.  She felt on fire, and the doctor was immediately summoned to check on her.

A fever was beginning to ravage his love and there didn't seem to be anything he could do to help but to sit back and let Dr. Harrison take control.

Jack Robinson, the man who always was in control was lost.

To be continued…

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that I have missed answering some comments. Jenn had surgery a week before Christmas and has had a lot of complications because of it. That has taken a good deal of my time. I do want to thank you SO much for taking time to read and comment, you, the readers make this all worthwhile!