And this, I said to the visiting daughter of a friend long since returned to the states due to ill heath, this wall I painted...
not a glimmer of interest in her eyes.
First I, ahem, I painted the leaves and....
still no glimmer of anything.
And then I, I gushed on, then I painted the birds and the flowers and the butterflies,
and looked at her expectantly....
she was thinking hard for something to say and finally said..
It is very lonely up here. There are, like, no stores or anything.
I agreed that there were , like, no stores or anything.
How about a drink, I said, and we had a few glasses of cheap wine, and suddenly I did not mind her lack of enthusiasm for my work.
Wine works wonders all the time.