Half way back to normal comes the stare, and I sit, there is no other stare quite like it. My current fear of carpets is neither up nor down, for want of information, I sometimes wear a frown. I know were I in combat, I'd merely shrug and sigh, but here, re. the freeway, for an eye one thinks an eye. Cousin Job says I should know how much to ask for bumps, but actually we endure, split our bobkes from our lumps. David Ritchie sending sympathy from Portland, Oregon ------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html