Gary and I have fled the blizzards of Michigan for sunny Florida, and -- after escaping a whiteout at 4 in the morning -- now find ourselves in an adorable little cottage on a tiny key smack dab against the Gulf/beach and overlooking a gorgeous bay.

We walked the beach early this morning -- picking up shells, and coral, and searching for shark teeth -- and saw not one, or two, but at least six dolphins cavorting mere feet in front of us. Both of our dogs, Mabel and Marge (Mabel is a six-month old Labradoodle, who looks insane, and Marge is a resilient 11-year mutt, who looks rabin), were like, "What the hell?" The dolphins frolicked for about five minutes, before slinking out to sea as the sun rose over the beach. Unbelievable. Makes one thankful for the small things in life. My goal is to get some pix of them and post them here and on myspace/facebook.

I had forgotten -- living in our Siberian Thunderdome -- that things were green, that there was a color other than white. I have not been this pale since I emerged from my mother's womb. I'll work on that ... as well as my next memoir, first novel, and first screenplay. The setting is inspiring to crank out a lot of writing.

And watch my web site for exciting news regarding my next memoir ... I swear, it's coming soon, and it's fierce, as Christian would say on Project Runway.

OK, off to unthaw, and transform my skin into a color other than rigor mortis.

XO,
Wade