One Year Today!

Laura and Happytiler at lunch! I took our picture!

Enhanced, entranced, enthralled in the
Bodacious world of blogging
Deserting daily duties
Abducted by artistic action
Delving deeper into the deluge
Of visceral visions, fueling fortitude
Passionate projects anticipated
Inspiration ignited, one to another
Buzzing through lines,
Feeding vacant vessels
Yearning for elation established by creation
Connection, contentment, compassion
Elevated adulation everyday
Reading, writing, meandering
Through the blogsphere
Constructing new posts, with art
Wisdom, poetry, zeal
To pass on as a legacy.

One year ago today I started a blog to discipline my writing. Instead I found a phenomenal community of friends and inspiration! It’s been a year of self discovery, extensive enlightenment, and joy! My path has expanded, as I scurry to the computer to share bits of my life, then jump from blog to blog to enjoy a morning visits with distance friends celebrating their creativity and at times sharing in their woes.

Originally my blog was to be left as a legacy for my daughter; instead I have become enriched and educated as I saunter down different blog avenues. Sharing in on the intimate lives and opinions of others has helped clarify and enhance the person I am.
As much as I know for a woman of fifty as a Jackie of all trades master of none, I realize in the magnitude of life, I really know nothing!

I want to take the time to passionately thank everyone who takes precious time out of their day to grace my blog or send me an email. Your thoughts and comments are always revered. I feel so blessed to have you as part of my life. Although I have an aversion to snail mail, I want you to all to know, should you ever visit British Columbia I will always have a scrumptious meal and a cozy home waiting to feed you body and soul!

Here’s to a new year of blogging, tons more creative endeavors that have been fired up because of this wonderful medium we call blog!

This is a piece of art I did a few weeks ago! Such a blunder I made, by accidentally mixing oils and acrylics, not hard to tell I’m new at this! What can I say the tubes were small, my eyes are 50! It took forever to dry and now resides in my loft, Pepper loves it. So that’s a good thing! The colors and shading aren't really accurate in this photo!

One of my Favorites George Stroumboulopoulos " The Hour"

The Hour Dustin Rabin Photography
The Hour Dustin Rabin Photography

While watching “The Hour” a few weeks ago I heard Stephan Jones being interviewed by George Stroumboulopoulos. I am amazed at how resilient Stephen is, having lived through the Jones Town massacre as the son of the late cult leader Jim Jones. At the end of his interview he said, although not verbatim “that religion is for those who are afraid to go into hell; spirituality is for those who have lived there and survived!” Anyone with a curiosity about Stephan Jones the son of a horrific man can go to here and watch the interview. During the seventies I was immersed in books about cults, today I find it interesting to hear Stephan’s adult perspective of his experience as the son of a cult leader! There is a fairly recent documentary circulating called “Don’t Drink the Kool-aid”!

George Stroumboulopoulos hosts “The Hour” foraging interesting bits of information from his remarkable interviews by asking the tough questions. I find myself anticipating his nightly program! Not shy of controversy his blog carries some interesting information! For a Canadian perspective on world events and celebrity check out some past interviews on youTube!

Loud and Proud!

Years ago I stuffed a few pairs of nylons to concoct an octopus. It was the main character in a display I made that won my boss a trip to Australia!
In the nineties I drove a black jeep with bright pink fuzzy seat covers and wore huge bows in my hair. Everyone knew who I was. I even had an embarrassing moment at the mall where I was introduced to a woman in my area. She was excited and announced that our kids went to the same school insisting I knew who she was. I didn’t! I was mortified as I stood there dumbfounded by a strange woman professing to know me. She proceeded to describe my jeep, the seat covers, and my many colored hair bows. That was one of those very rare occasions when I was embarrassed; she kept demanding I admit to knowing her. I felt bad, but I seriously couldn’t remember ever seeing her! It was an awkward moment to say the least. I apologized for not knowing who she was! I couldn’t even fake it! The point is, I have always lived loud and proud! Not always a good thing. Now I realize it was the suppressed artist within! Always creating whether behind closed doors or at work. It could be Garfield pumpkins, fun cakes, purple walls, a gingerbread house, or a crocheted blanket. I need to have color in my midst at all times and creative projects. It just fills me up! What is it that fills you up, what would you never want to live without? What do you wish you knew years ago?

A Brush with Magic, a Fanciful Twist and a giggle!

Well Lucy over at “Lulus petals” sure gave me a laugh for the day! Check out her post “Fruit Tale”. She is a hoot! Here’s a picture of the necklace that Pepper bought from Nicci at Brushed with Magic off of Etsy. Actually Nicci hand delivered it. Pepper happened to see this necklace on Etsy and loved the face; she was pleasantly surprised to see it was named Pepper! In fact she wore it to work today!

Yesterday I was caught in a Labyrinth of links on Vanessa’s blog called “A fanciful twist” I love this blogger’s art and mind. She's a real gem!



Saturday evening we went for dinner and cards at our friends place. Their disabled son seems to be doing so well. I keep noticing huge differences in his demeanor, what a pleasant child. Only to be expected from such wonderful parents. Unfortunately he was in bed when I remembered I had the camera. So I captured a picture of the baby in her jolly jumper! There's a threat that this little princess may have a disability too. Very small for her size she continuously flutters like a little humming bird. If anyone can handle two disabled children it’s this strong and loving couple. It scares the bajeebus out of me to think of anyone but Selina and Andrew taking care of those children! We had so many giggles, and cuddles with the kids!It was a great evening and we stayed way too late!

Sunday Scribblings " Culinary Liberation"

Bryan baked and decorated these cupcakes last week in celebration of Saint Patricks day! He's takes the pressure off me to keep up my old persona!

Helping in the kitchen from a very young age! I baked pies as early as thirteen, can't remember the last time I made one. A few years ago maybe!
My dream kitchen in the Nineties, I had so much company then. Kids over every weekend! There was always soup on, and baking in the house!
Bryan placed this little presentation out to surprise Pepper when she got home from work. She squealed, he's such a romantic guy!

When I had my huge dream kitchen, with top of the line appliances, a fireplace, corian counter tops, French doors that opened up to a beautiful back yard, I said a word of thanks every single morning that I entered that kitchen! Unfortunately the dream life didn’t accompany that space! After nine years I moved to a more conservative kitchen, and a life of peace!

This weeks Sunday Scribblings prompt is "In the Kitchen". A few years ago this prompt would have me fired up! Not as of late! I’ve always been known for my culinary skills, toting along fresh baked goods to places I visited. Not so much now! I was a culinary goddess of sorts. So I’m told! Now we eat lots of chicken and Greek salad. I rarely deviate from the same five items, wraps, a pasta, roast, chicken, pizza. Sometimes I’ll make fajitas, quesadilla’s, or salad wraps. I’ll switch up the pasta, from red to white sauce and occasionally make curry with rice. Salads and veggies are all apart of the equation! For the most part I have lost interest, so I just stick with the old stand bys, and pray the kids will go out so I can raid the fridge!

I buy baked cookies on occasion, which would have been a blasphemy from my past thinking! When did I change cooking habits? Well, when I saw many younger women, skip into a party all refreshed from a day at the spa, tennis, or boating, contributing a store bought dip. While I the Bohunk mama slaved in a hot kitchen making some special dish that took a better part of the day to prepare and clean up, later dragging myself there late and worn out. Yes I received the accolades, but why I ask did I find it necessary to outdo myself? The answer would be a feeling of inadequacy. In valuing myself more, I’m granted more freedom to make choices that accommodate my needs now. Something I was socialized not to do! I feel assured that I can cook well; therefore I have released a need to prove myself to others. Now when I invite guest for dinner it’s because I truly have the urge to cook and enjoy a nice meal with people I love! On occasion Pepper and Bryan will prepare a dinner, but the majority of the daily monotony falls on my back! Sometimes I can escape, by going out with my friends!

Culinary Liberation

I used to be a merry kitchen Bitch
Whipped up anything, without a glitch
A gourmet meal, a dinner for eight
Precisely timed, nothing was late
The kitchen was clean, pretty table was set
I’d chatter with company, it was never a fret
Times of soup in the crock every week
Baking galore is now quite bleak
Culinary abundance is finally gone
Enthusiasm for cooking is more of a yawn
Once in a while I manage a spurt
Bustle around, somewhat alert
Then in an instant it becomes mundane
When Supper hour approaches, I feel disdain
I rather go out, let someone else do the work
It’s a redundant chore I’d rather shirk
I’ve done my duty for my family and friend
Surely I’ve earned a liberty transcend
Into my writing, computer, and art
It’s these passions now that capture my heart
A potato or salad, sandwich or tea
Things without mold from the fridge that I see
I eat random times, when the urge strikes
And damn it, finally I eat more to my likes
Smoked oysters and cheese placed on a bun
Sole, and seafood, from which the kids run
Finally it’s my turn to make my own choice
For years I made food my family would voice
Although I’ll admit at times I’ll succumb
After all I live with the guilt of a MUM!

Ilustration Friday "Spy"

Ilustration Friday "Spy"

Eye spy with my little eyes something that's a Miss!

Pepper this ones for you!

My daughter has taken to barging in the bathroom and taking surprise pictures of me, it always requisitions a few giggles!


Do you ever feel like your losin it? That would be me! It was a friend’s birthday a few weeks ago. I sent her an ecard. Snail mail and I are not friends. Anyway she responded with an email back that same day, March third. When I finally checked that rarely used email address it was a few weeks later. I immediately started to respond with a very meaty email when I was called away. A few days later, do you think I can find it on my computer? No,…… not a chance, of course I’m doubting whether I finished and sent it. I don’t think I did. But what if I have? Am I going crazy?

Anyway, not to make excuses, I have been under the weather the last few weeks. Fighting these stupid stomach tremors, and sleep that’s totally out of whack. Sure enough my little stomach earthquakes, that’s what I’ve been calling them, were quite random with a dull ache on my right side. Of course at fifty any oddity in body functions is cause to freak out! Quietly of course! I try not to alert Pepper, her life can get stressful enough without worrying about me. Instead I would just retire to my bedroom early!

In the beginning the mini earthquakes were sporadically bothering me. I disregarded them as after math caused by the wacky sleep patterns. As I slept the whishing seemed to subside. Not to get too graphic, my body was doing things at night, ritually done in the morning….if you know what I mean.

Tuesday I awoke at 1:30 am, after six hours sleep. Fully alert, Raisin bran, a pear and tea, were my middle of the night breakfast. A time when the only people awake are the bridge trolls and night watchmen! My stomach quakes couldn’t be ignored, and invaded my thoughts. As the day progressed I tried diverting them. I did a google search, playing detective doctor trying to self diagnose my problem. Or at least be pointed in the area of concern. Extensive searches narrowed it down to pancreas, or bowels. Wow, give me a certificate! Because I’m overweight I’m always concerned about the possibility of diabetes. With a few blood test those concerns are thankfully alleviated.

Years ago I heard you can tell a lot about your health by looking at your nails. They are to health, like the eyes are to soul. I was looking for clubbing, and signs of the big C, or heart issues. Anyway I tried to have a nap, but the baby earthquakes were determined not to let that happen. So I got my ass up, bathed for the second time….in preparation for the doctor ….and dragged my self to my preferred clinic twenty minutes away. By now its late afternoon, just before dinner, there I am in this huge clinic, with five other women, all my age….go figure. All the menopausal mamas didn’t want to make dinner? I chuckled to myself.

I got in quickly for a change, the nurse was such a doll. The more questions she asked, the less direct my answers were. I’d shrug and explained it’s possible but ……….then went into the peri menopausal symptoms that coincide with so many other body mysteries. Her sympathetic, sage eyes exuded understanding. The doctor came in, a little short guy, listened pensively, asked a few questions, while reading many of the particulars the nurse has already recorded on my chart. Examined me, diagnosed me as having noisy bowels. Hmmm surprise surprise! He informs me it’s a common hormonal problem, oh my god…more hormonal crap. Another new thing I’ve never heard. I feel like a damn ostrich with my head in the sand. He gave me some pills to help push things through faster….if you know what I mean! I have been eating so much roughage lately I was surprised there was an issue.
Next I hit up Costco to fill the prescription, and buy tons more roughage, flax, rye, grains and humus. I always have piles of fresh veggies. When I pick up my prescription the girl asked if I’ve taken them before I told her I hadn’t. She asks if they’re for my indigestion! With a crowd of onlookers only breathes away I replied with an emphatic “NO”! Now I am worried I have the wrong prescription, but hesitate to announce to the world my bowel issues. Next she asks what they’re for. Oh my god, I’m thinking, do I have to answer this. “Bowels…..I said quickly and quietly ….half expecting her to say “PARDON”….She doesn’t…..I wipes my brow…phew! When the crowd disperses I quickly jest “well it’s either these or prunes what I can say, ….I’m getting old!” Then scrambled off!

I took a pill just before dinner, found some relief. So much for eating anymore Canadian cheese for a while, I guess I’ll stick with humble pie, served after writing yesterday’s poem!

Opposites

A calorie free world would be insatiable to me
No goodies to enjoy, in a home laden with soy, rice cakes and diet soda
Give me milk, home baking, food shopped from the outer edge of the grocer
it may be a purported enemy in the end, but no fat free for me.

I could move more, away from the computer, fly around, see sunlight
I could eat less Canadian cheese, throw out my white flour
But how would I make my moms traditional recipes and some of mine too
Excuses all of them, my daughter doesn’t diet, she’s always been slender

In their house, a thirteen year old is monitoring what she eats,
She’s a beauty who has an unreasonable goal weight for a girl so tall
Only a few months ago I witnessed her gobbling food as though she was ravenous
What’s eating her, what is she filling up I wonder, is she like I was, sure hope not!

Thirteen year olds should be giggling with other girls, watching movies,
Having junk food nights, doing manicures, and making prank phone calls
They should be too busy, with chores, activities, home work to worry about weight,
Instead they agonize over divorced parents haggling visits, niggling who pays what!

It’s a different world, with everyone scattered for god knows what,
No daily dinnertime rituals, jumping to clear dishes, everyone bustling
As though it’s too painful to be quiet, connect, reflect events of the day
No minutes to spare, partners work opposite shifts, dropping kids here an there

But we will appear lovely to the world, with our toned bodies
Immaculate homes, tanned skin, perfect hair streaks, and brand new cars
Eating brownies on the sly, purging more than old house hold items
Because in the end, the most important thing is being thin!

Sunday Scribblings " Inspiration"

Sunday Scribblings prompt is inspiration! So many things ignite my creative passion. Everything inspires me, from a mug of coffee, to a woman screaming at her child. Children, color, words, love and peace are my biggest passion, so it fuels my creative fire most. I embrace the silence that embodies inspiration! I feed off of surfing the net and conversation with like minded individuals. While keeping true to my unique spirit, I find lone bliss in creativity, I am never bored!

Inspiration

Inspiration reigns thought,
A whisper, a caption
A color, a word, a painting
Cordoned in a flash

Inspiration fired by
Injustice, negation
Frustration, indignation
Brewed into creative catharsis

Inspiration is born in revelry,
Epiphany, history
Antipathy, Inventory,
Sparking Innovative ecstasy

Inspiration initiated to
Analyze, Theorize,
Scrutinize, criticize
Unearthing perceptive resolution

Inspiration derives spirits’
Reflection, subjection
Inspection, rejection
Augmenting resourceful escalation

Compiled Congealed,
The artist, the writer
Inventor, scientist
Dimensionally arrives!

Happy St. Patricks Day

There once was leprechaun who wore pink everyday
Sprites teased him, wouldn’t let him play
Then along came these trolls
Made him switch rolls
Now he’s no longer gray!

There once was a girl named Sherrie
Menopause made her quite hairy
So she plucked what she could
Bleached the rest real good!
Now her skin’s as smooth as a cherry!!

I remember!

My dad loved to party, it was almost appropriate that he left this world on St. Patricks day 21 year ago, never to be forgotten!

I always knew he was proud of me. Although mom taught me so much, I am definitely more my dads legacy.

It was a gorgeous sunny day in 1986 when he died! Pepper was only six weeks old. The same age I was when my paternal grandmother died! As soon as I received the expected phone call I grabbed the song “Imagine” and played it over and over as I grieved.

My dad was an agnostic, yet I know he went to a better place. A kind and tender soul my dad! I remember candy day, eight AM, Saturday mornings, together waiting at the door of Safeway to spent my dime and gather our weekly quota of fresh bread! I remember dancing on his feet to Harry Belafonte, and Nat King Cole. I remember being thirteen, holding his hand down the isle at the movie theatre when he took me to see Dr.Zhivago. I remember singing “Donkey Serenade” and “Mona Lisa” with him. I remember him teaching me to ride a bike, and hit a baseball, golf and kick a soccer ball!

When I was eight I remember him bringing me a clown coloring book to the hospital during my stay to have my appendix removed. It was an exploratory surgery where I was only hours from death. He was so worried.

At ten I remember him buying my first popular piano book, so I could sing along when I wasn’t practicing my classical tunes! I remember getting inebriated with him, while he wisely explained my mom’s temperament and history of childhood abuse in such a loving way. Dad hated injustice and would take my side when he knew I was right; there was a huge cost to him for doing that!

I remember nights playing bridge, dice and shuffle board until the wee hours. I remember camping and fishing, and the way my dad held my puppy with such tenderness. I remember how he whistled when he put up the Christmas lights up! I remembered how he always went to a special factory to buy large Chocolate bars to give out at Halloween, even though we lived frugally. I remember his big garden, the fresh veggies, how soft his voice was, and how I could sit and listen to him play the mouth organ for hours! I remember so much more. Best of all I remember kissing him on the lips when he dropped me off at school, as all the teens watched in envy! I adored my dad; I wish my daughter had the opportunity to know him. He was a tender loving kind man, who adored his family, and loved life! Even after twenty-one years I miss him tons!

Illustration Friday " Total"

Illustration Friday "Total"

Total Bliss

Hearts abound in loves joy
Amplified emotes deploy
To sanctify that first kiss
Nature employs perfect bliss

Poetry Thursday " Sopor"

Sopor

Lost in the limbs of knowing
Not a curious entity
I ponder the palpable paper
Staring at the threads of ink
Linking the letters
Languishing my muse
Anxious for the guiding whispers
Sopor, an unknown residual
Requisitioned during a
Daily scrabble exercise
Reconciled to be used
But how?
When my voice of reason
Is Sopor!

This was a difficult task. Several days I stared at the paper with my word staring back in a duel of fisticuffs. First I tried vehemently to do a play on words. Trite was the conclusion! In desperation I did the unspeakable; I cheated and read the definition! After much frustration, this is my attempt at Poetry Thursday!

Chris Sligh You Rock!!!

Too many politics seem to plague the show American Idol. Baylie Brown and Sean Michel kicked off during peliminary would have made for an interesting mix. Instead it's kind of a boring this year, except for my favortie of them all Chris Sligh, if he gets voted off I’m done watching. He doesn’t get the accolades he deserves for an Indy artist. I’m crossing my fingers that he’s the new idol. Win or lose this will be his step into fame! Like so many musicians struggling to be heard he already had a great sounding band called "halfpastforever". I hope Americans support this young lad! As a Canadian I’m hoping Idol doesn’t change this humorous dude with a unique flare. Last night Chris put a new flavor to the song “Endless love”! Although I loved the orginal version, his peppered adaptation was a delightful change!Unfortunately the judges weren’t as impressed as I was!

I won’t watch the excruciating Idol show tonight when someone gets the boot. I hate how they torture the contestants by extending their demise!. It’s cruel the humiliation they put those kids through for the almighty dollar. What ever happened to KINDNESS?

This is personality plus kid! Can’t wait to purchase a Cd done with his artistic interpretation! Heck, if he gets voted off , maybe he will make it to the top faster!

Art Plates

I worked on these art plates this weekend. The colors are slightly distorted. The square dish is embellished with burnt orange, and purple. Unfortunately the purple looks blue in the photo.

I loved this plate filled with hearts until I applied a second coat of purple, which now looks almost black and is a terrible finish on the plate. The purple in the container is too thick and couldn’t be applied properly. Fortunately I can take it all off with alcohol, and then reapply it before I bake it for a permanent seal. I think the paint may have been out of date, when I bought it, hindering the consistency. In order to have the eye appeal I need, I think I will return the purple and find one with a better consistency. I returned a paint pen to Michaels that had been sealed but was absolutely dry when I opened it. The ones I bought at Opus were the same brand but a better quality. I wonder how many returns Michaels gets and if anyone has had problems with their products. I would think they would sell on a higher volume, therefore have a better turn over, and fresher products. I even tried using a thinning medium.


I’m not totally satisfied with the paisley plate either, also orange, green, and yellow, the next one I will lay out differently. But those are the mishaps that occur when trying new projects! On the upside, the plates were originally $13.00 each, I paid $1.47 at Liquidation World ! What a steal! Now the paint is quite a different story! I guess once you build up your colors it’s not so bad.

Sunday Scribblings "Dreams"

Sunday Scribblings "Dreams"

In ninety-one my mom died. I had many vivid dreams while she was dying. Every dream I was in a large house by a beach,trying to escape the house, to no avail. Every door or window I tried was locked tight. Two weeks before mom died I dreamt that a man was chasing me with a knife; I had finally escaped the house. I was holding Peppers hand as I ran, guiding her along the beach towards the water. Mom died, I didn’t dream for two years. At least I couldn’t recall my dreams. Then in July of ninety-three I had a vivid snake dream, it was terrifying.

The next year I accompanied a two female physicians and a friend to a dream seminar. We had dinner before the lecture; I shared my dreams with the ladies. After the very interesting seminar, the girls encouraged me to inquire about my dreams. I approached the two alternating lines, when it got to my turn I faced a lady who was conveying her snake dream to the speaker. I turned and looked at the physician in shock. The lady was discussing my dream verbatim. The lecturer, his name I don’t recall, warned her that she would be coming up against the patriarchy. I didn’t bother to elaborate my dream and instead relinquished my turn to the physician behind me.

Sure enough two years later I came up against the patriarchy like never imagined. I fought for my child’s rights, and my own. It was a horrific two years, of trying to get males to recognize I was in danger. I was always taught that if you told the truth and lived right, justice would prevail. Instead I learned that the best liar wins. I now have more faith in Karma and the law of the universe than the justice system.

Any woman of authority I encountered understood me, assisting to find me resolve. Eventually, after an accumulating loads of proof, I was finally understood by two very kind male police officers. The three before them were unwilling to do the paper work. I heard later from a victim services advocate that the judge in my case actually doubted himself. Male doctors, lawyers, court authorities were challenged as I defended my daughter’s right to be heard. Eventually, after much persistence, patriarchal dissention had lifted, many even came to my aid, restoring my faith in males!

Just a side note, my daughter was the shyest little person. She only shared her thoughts with me. During that time I was unable to direct her about what to say, but guided her to make her wishes known the best way could. It was difficult to send my shy young child into a room alone with authority figures armed with only the words “ speak your mind” She finally spoke up, authorities were so impressed at how articulate and mature she was at ten. From that day on, my daughter opened up, and spoke more readily. . Today that grown up woman is a wheeler dealer lady of strength and character who lets everyone know what she expects and what she needs! A couple of years ago I bumped into a counselor who I hadn’t seen for over nine years. She informed me that my ten year old taught her things that are still incorporated in her classes today!

Illustration Friday " Wired"

Illustration Friday

Wired

GOOD MORNING!!!!

Poetry Thursday " Loyalty to Red"

Poetry Thursday

This weeks Poetry Thursday prompt has been a wonderful quest for self discovery! I’m much more passionate about red than I first realized, it’s almost sacred to me! My whole life I have worn it with pride, reveled in its beauty, but until last year have never used it for decorating. One room in my home is a burnt red color, and I seldom visit that space! I rarely even plant a red flower. Yet I would have no problem owning a red car, have had many red dresses, and jackets! I adore red plaid and jump at the chance to wear night clothes in red. So this poem was born from meditative thinking about the complexities of red and my love for it!

Loyalty to Red

Oh Red how you dance in my head
Nourishing my soul, you take control
Oh Red how I adore your power
Your blaze of passion, in nature and fashion
You speak to me like no other
You cloak me in loyalty, sovereignty
Distinct allegory
You saber my path in times of fear
You’re my infallible armor staving off
Insecurity, inadequacy, weakness and doubt
You fill my heart with life, lust, liveliness
Oh red your fire burns in ravaging winds
Capturing the attention of the onslaught
You’re absolved by that honed paradoxical allure
Respected, you juice my latent desires
I covet every conceivable notion of your contradiction
Wearing you with pride, dedication, admiration
I will always love and defend your honor
You will never stand alone in allegation
Castigation or decoration!

Bloggers block!

Lately I’ve been online google searching for wearable art coats, to no avail! Suggestions to any cool wearable art websites would be deeply appreciated! I’m looking for some inspirational, plus sized coats, made with squares of material. I'm in possesion of some bright colored velour material that I want to fashion into a wearable art coat! I have been thinking about this for way too long! Now is the time to launch a creation! I’m apprehensive about sizing the squares….not sure how big I want them…I'm not looking for a real quilted look either!

I’m having bloggers block! Is that possible? The last few days I’ve been suffering with a bit of a back ache that consumes me. So instead of whining about my aches and pains I just opted out of posting. Thankfully I woke Tuesday and the nagging ache had dissipated! I was so excited; I almost had pep in my step. A good night’s sleep is imperative to my well being, of course that’s not always possible.

Tuesday afternoon I was invited to see the play “Tuesdays with Morrie” at our local theatre. The play was full of wisdom and humor! What more could I ask for! Well more comfortable seats would have been an asset! Okay better for my ass and my friend’s ass….whose is at least four sizes smaller than mine!

The fellow that played the part of Morrie was ancient to say the least…seventy eight was the supposed age of Morrie; Anthony Holland is just a few months shy of eighty six ! His acting was so believable I almost panicked during one scene, when he looked like he was having a real heart attack. Thankfully he’s just a very convincing actor.

I was wondering how the heck he memorizes all those lines when I can barely remember my own cell phone number! In fact the other day I needed my postal code for a return at Michaels, I’m sure I repeated every postal code of every home I ever lived in, except my current one of nine years. In my defense, we just got a new postal code a few months ago, I was trying to remember it, couldn’t, so I tried to fall back on the familiar one! Which threw me into a labyrinth of numbers and letters all mixed together. I became totally befuddled, sprinkle that with a tad of mortification, and my mind was blank. I stood there horrified, unable to recall either of my two postal codes! The cashier kindly let me leave after many frustrating attempts at correcting my jumbled letter number combinations! I’m sure she was so exasperated, that she just filled in the blank with her own!

Both Warren Kimmel and Anthony Holland did an excellent job at keeping my interest, inciting many giggles, and philosophical thoughts! The premise of the play is to live well, give what you can, love and forgive everyone! Make intimate connections with others at all costs before you die! Quit chasing things you don’t really want! In a perfect world it’s a pretty sensible way to live life and what I strive for!

Sunday Scribbling "Superstition"

Sunday Scribbling

Superstition

Spirit won over superstition
Replaced by loyal intuition
Negative fear left my soul
Positive energy took control
Thirteen’s, black cats can saunter by
Fallible fallacies, I’ll defy
Umbrella left open in my abode
New Shoes on the table, a myth I’ll goad
I’ll not succumb to childish dread
Or attract it to me, so it will spread
Instead I embrace the spirit within
On the thirteenth day, a lottery I’ll win!

Goddesses Unite

Wednesday night we celebrated Laura’s Birthday at my home. There I am, hiding my large girth behind the goddesses! As usual we had excellent food, and drinks. Laughter ensued, along with in-depth conversation about childhood, and future aspirations. Although there was a no gift policy unless it was crafted, everyone presented Laura with a personal treasure. It inspired creativity in all!

Even though the evening was perfect, I catch my self having regrets about things I said. I know everyone has bouts of feeling like the odd duck out, I think I just hide it well. My intentions are always genuine, yet I know I’m often perceived incorrectly. I am trying not to worry about it. Subconsciously I do though. The other night I had this really long dream. Throughout the dream I kept reminding myself to remember my dream for when I awaken! It was in color and very vivid. It’s the first time I have ever dreamt about my ex, he visited me and we talked but I don’t remember what we talked about. It wasn’t awful, just shocking because it’s been eleven years. I also dreamt my teeth fell out that was devastating. I wondered if it’s because I have been grinding a lot lately! Then I looked it up and it was relevant to my feeling a little inferior at times. I’m sure it’s just a phase I’m going through. Embracing my aging body!

The celebration was such a sweet night, very spiritual. We picked angel cards, prompting a round table discussion about each card. I had about five drop onto the table at once, instead of throwing them back I just kept them. Seems they picked me. They were all related, germane to my life at the moment too!

Janice made a lovely cake, with a bohemian goddess on the front. Laura was thrilled and it was a yummy no fat angel food, with a hint of lemon. So yummy! We all giggled at the doll head as it resembled Charlotte from our Christmas soiree. Charlotte is the haunted doll, that wouldn’t have her picture taken until we spoke sweetly to her. The next goddess celebration is in April, where we will pay tribute to our Aries friend Barb! I’m really looking forward to that too!

Illustration Friday " Hide"

Illustration Friday "Hide"

That’s a big hide I see
Pretty hard to hide from me
Bad fashion and weight
Always a huge debate!

Poetry Thursday " I still love you but....."

Poetry Thursday

This is not what you may think. We were suppose to write about “The thing we find most beautiful in the world without giving away what that thing is.” I think we were suppose use descriptive words to embellish beauty. I decided to have some fun and let you guess what “the thing is”. It's not the most beautiful thing in the world. Personally I think it’s a dead give away…..but tell me what you think!



I still love you but…..

Our Youth has parted
We are no longer content
To ebb together
I used to depend on you
But no more
I used to trust you
But no more
I was in control
But no more
Independent
Of my needs
You now make the decisions
I am at your command
I now pay the way
While you stand
Idly by,
Other times
You’re dormant
I’m ignored
I carry on
Without you
I’m grateful
For our time together
In your youth
Your sleek nature
Attracted me
Now
You’re a liability
Time to
Trade you in
For a new one!