From the Desk of Lorane

        Don't believe we've met.  I used to be a deco-type, pale lacquer, devoted, lone utilitarian buddy.  Then due to Lorane's back operation, I accommodatingly morphed into an orthopedic mattress, dining room table, several hospital beds and, lately I'm - portable as a banana- found in the living room - surrounded by the grand peep gallery, on the deck, watching/gazing (I could just spit 'cause my folks weren't jet skis!) or back on ye ole hard mattress.  Guess the operative word may be 'lone'.  This because of all the 'm-i-a-s'.  That would be you readers and 'our' writer. What/where up?
      (As I recall, I was last seen wearing thin skin covered by a thick, hard, supportive 'body cast' affair - the medical folks call it a "Turtle".  Those cut-ups!  Turtle indeed.  Missing, though, was the usual paraphernalia - cool, mossy earth or sand under webbed Joan and Davids, nearby wading ponds, a chatty, newsy-kind of reptilian companion, mayhaps with the moniker, 'Rivett', and crowning, palettes of color, turned on by shards of brilliant sun - or off by mist-to-rivulet moisture finding its way to playfully bounce off of or gracefully slide over/down my smooth, runway-ready 'flage'-slick slicker.
        And writing.  Those who caught a gander caught the makeshift cubicles-for-the-creating - pens, legal pads, 'to-do-list' pads, forgotten "tomorrow's Menu"s, tissue boxes.  I longed for "Desk" - large, familiar, sea-worthy yet mermaid-made.  Then, once home, I became a nomad in my home.  But I kept writing.  Now I am also talking.  I speak with lovely folks who help the hapless who are hopelessly tangled in the technicalities of turning written material - please see above - into a unified whole - dedicated, explained, introduced, printed, bound, distributed and placed where books-to-be-acquired and read live.) 
        So I'm going to the source.  She's in town. Rumor has it there's a plot a-foot.  But, not unlike "Second-Hand Rose", even rumors I'm hearing, someone heard before.  Not to be trusted.  So I'll be going to the source.  I know she's around here somewhere.  This week was her Mom's birthday so she stays close to the ranch - if you get my whiff.  And, cross my four legs, you will be the first to know - first and top drawer - scoop.
        Later, Desk. . . .