My Painted Mugs

Here are the mugs I painted a few days ago! The blue is for my friend’s birthday, the color is more brilliant in person. It was my first attempt, along with the plate. I bought one extra mug incase I screwed Laura’s up. I was so excited that I had to make myself one too! The teal background is actually quite a bit darker in person. I’m sure I have many improvements to come on these. I came up to the loft for a break because the odor as they bake is unbearable, and made me vomit. I just wasn’t prepared for such an odor! Bryan says they smell like a school art room, or burnt play doe; I say they smell like rotten fish cooking! Either way I can not be near it. I’m sure glad Peppers not around, she’d be freaking out. She’s hyper sensitive to smells as I was at her age. Since I had my nose pierced on my fortieth birthday I haven’t had hay fever or sensitivity to smells like I used to. This is something else though. Hope it’s gone by tonight. I am burning incense to help it along. Did you know that our sensitivity to smell is elevated during baby bearing years? Apparently so we can protect our young from danger. Anyway bottom line, the paint stinks while it’s baking. I’m hooked on doing these. Watch for more to come!

Cookies

“Cookie of the Month”

Taken from “ The Best of Bridge Series”

1 cup of butter
1 cup of white sugar
1 cup of brown sugar
1 egg
1 cup of vegetable oil
1 tsp Vanilla
1 cup of rolled oats
1 cup of crushed corn flakes
½ cup of coconut
½ cup of either walnuts of pecans
31/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 tsp salt

Preheat over to 325 degrees, cream together butter, sugars until fluffy. Add egg, oil vanilla. Mix well Add oats, flakes, coconut and nuts, stir well. Add flour, soda and salt stir until well blended. Drop by teaspoons on a greased cookie sheet and flatten with fork dipped in water. Baked 15 minutes. Makes approx.8 dozen.

I like to bake these a little longer because I prefer a crispier over cooked cookie, thats why mine are a little darker. Some like them cooked to the normal golden color!

Illustration Friday "Communication "

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

"Hello 911? CAT ATTACK, CAT ATTACK!!!"

I did this little picture for illustration Friday with the prompt“Communication” Twix the mouse is frantically making a 911 call! Does anyone know how to find out the prompt ahead of time?

Communication is something I haven’t had time for lately. The days seem to get away from me. Do you ever feel like you need more time in a day? I need to sleep, lately it feels like an inconvenience though. My mind often spins like a top with creative ideas. If I don’t watch television with the timer on before slumber, then my mind racing to write. I feel like hopping up to get it all down, but know the exhaustion must be heeded!

I worked on some art last night that I have to wait to share. Although my friend only reads my blog on occasion, I still don’t want to spoil her surprise. It’s my first one, but I want one too! I’ll post it as soon as she receives it! I have to bake it yet….some of you may already know what it is! Can you guess?

I’m having the goddesses over for a Birthday Celebration tomorrow! I’m making Thai salad and cleaning the house today. If possible I may bake some once a month cookies too! I’ll post the recipe later if I have a moment!

Sunday Scribblings " Still Puzzled"

Where is this little on NOW?

I applaud anyone brave enough to read past this disturbing photo!On my google search it was difficult to locate pictures of this time. Yet I remember it so well! Many devastating pictures flashed on the television screens, and posted in papers. I wondered then, as I wonder now, why governments sat apathetically unmoved! I became more steamed as my search progressed. It’s as though these brutal acts have be obliterated out of the search engines. WHAT????….. were all the photos burned??? Of course it’s difficult to view them…….these victims should be acknowledged forever, lest we forget!

Sunday Scribbling
Still Puzzled

It puzzles me
How a superior nation
Can endorse
An arms invasion
Of a country rich in oil
When living just
Across the land
A crying nation stands
Dying of aids and poverty
Orphans are left in flocks
To fend alone in devastation
Still ignored
by the richest nation
It puzzles me
How they pay no heed
To those who call out
It desperate need
From civil war violations
Women and children
Rapes, mutilations
Barbaric circumcisions
Forced limb amputations
It puzzles me how a rich regime
Could sleep at night,
Much less dream
When people in their country
Beg for relief
Destitute from a Hurricane
In a state of disbelief
I’m puzzled how a
Man can be born
a certain shade of skin
for doors to be shut
tightly locked on a whim
his voice unheard,
with no assistance
Perplexed people
wonder why
so much resistance
Have we come as far
as we profess?
Or shall we resurrect Mr. King?
And take HIS test?

Happy Birthday Lovely Laura!

Laura click your card and the collage to enlarge!
It’s my dear friends Birthday; she is such an incredibly special woman! I can’t begin to tell you all the wonderful things she is and does! She spreads herself so thin, is the queen of time management, fun adventures, and generosity . With flounce and creativity abounding! She is a writer, and artist who should be living a creative life full time! I wish and pray that Laura will allot more time for creative exploration, and less time on minutia this year! Happy Birthday my Beautiful friend! I love you! Let's Celebrate!!!

Poetry Thursday " Angst"

I’ve already done a poem entitled Body Knows for Poetry Thursday a while back. Here’s another take on that title! Also a cousin to yesterday Namelian popped up for a visit!

Angst

Staccato
pattern
Out of
sync
Suspicion
triggered
Awakes
Instinct
Shoo
thoughts
Body
squirm
Ingrained
alarm
Dictates
confirm
Survey
contemplate
Bingo!!!!
Recognition
body
knows
it’s intuition!

Namelian

I feel like a kid again! Quite often I’ll make drawings from a few squiggles. Creating this Namelian took it to a new level. I saw this challenge at Tinkers blog. Click here for directions to make your own Namelian creatures! I prefer to draw digitally. So I just used my paint program , wrote out my name, then cut, and rotated it back to back, depicted in the first picture! I drew the toes around the dots on the “I” of my name.

My little guy Pogo likes to run up behind people, either to nibble at their ankles or jump up and pinch their bums! Quite the mischievous imp, he will show up when least expected. Fussy too, he only eats potatoes. Jojo, perogies, baked, fried, mashed you name it, he even eats them raw. Unlike me, mister nugget man, manages to maintain his girlish figure.

Although he’s a metro sexual, he rarely does housework; he’d rather play with the dust bunnies than clean them. He sleeps under beds; thank goodness I have drawers under mine. Professes to protect people from the boogie man, which I told him that was impossible, because he IS the boogie man! I’m thinking he better soon earn his keep or I’ll be kicking him to the curb. He’s quite belligerent, rarely does what I ask. I figured because he’s already down there he may as well take a rag and clean my floor moldings. I asked him politely too! But NOooo…. He’d rather look up the skirt of my dress, point, and laugh. I was so shocked; I can’t even tell you what transpired after that, its unmentionable, but rhymes with heart! Cleaning a few molding shouldn’t be such a big deal when you're getting free room and board. He doesn't even have to bend down to reach them. Hell when I bend down to do them I need a loud horn warning like they have on garbage trucks, so everyone can close their eyes in time, sparing them the vision of my loveliness! Yeah, and it hurts to bend down too! I even promised to reward him with a fudge brownie. But of course the litle troll wanna be won’t eat it unless I make it with a potato!

Invoked thoughts

This is a piggy back post from my Sunday scribbling and yesterdays writings.

Seems as though many women look to find their true essence during menopause! Lost is the part of us caught up, being a wife, striving to sustain a career and raise children. Once put to the side, the spirit of who we are won’t be ignored.

Although with age comes foresight and wisdom, there's often huge chunks of void. Or maybe just areas unexplored. For years my mom complained about being a golf widow. Once I was long gone, my brother in his teens, mom felt free to try golfing. Her passion quickly ignited. She dragged dad around the course a few times a week. It was a new start for them as a couple. Mom questioned why it took so long for her to discover this sport she now hankered for. As a woman of substance with many hobbies it was difficult to enjoy all lifes offerings. Sewing, dabbling in the stock market, crocheting, cooking, gardening, reading, games, bridge, you name it, her interests superseded her time!

Logistics of raising kids, working full time, keeping up with housework and a budget, made time for golf unfeasible in her mid years. Mom always had big plans for retirement, but her demise stole the dreams.

Pondering thoughts
At eight, I initiated attending church alone. Routinely getting myself up, then walking down the block to the local evangelical church. Thinking back, it was odd thing to do at that age. Yet I continued to go weekly without encouragement. What possessed me to yearn for that atmosphere when I had the challenge of an agnostic dad, and a semi spiritual mom?

Invoked thoughts from Sunday Scribbling

As I wrote my Sunday scribbling, I wondered how I manifested having a mormon boy wait for me in the middle of the night so I could sneak out with him. How did that transpire, what words did I use to entice him? How old was I really, in that thirteen year old fully developed body? All questions that are baffling me.

Finding my true self is a journey back to the past, looking for clues, things I adored in childhood, my independent nature, and opinionated character, that often turned adults off! Looking at the little Sherrie, I think I may have been wiser than some gave me credit for. I always looked at both sidesof the equation, I still do.

Love of Color
I can’t remember a time where I didn’t love coloring, whether it be books, or walls, or cakes. I was always under the impression that to do art you must draw perfect pictures. It never occurred to me that decorating in bold colors during the seventies, dressing with flare, inventing new ways to carve a pumpkin or ice a cake were all expressions of a repressed artist’s soul. Squashed was a childhood aspiration, because I was unable to draw with perfect precision.
In my mid forties on root to self discovery, with the encouragement of Violette, who seemed wooed by my purple home decor, I put colored sharpie to paper attempting journal pages. It opened a new world for me, and ever since I have enjoyed trying new things for my own creative pleasure.

Damaged Creative Spirit

Yesterday after reading Ninnies blog about her brother, a potential artist feeling discouraged about his talent, after taking a few art classes at eleven. I was inspired to share Peppers story. As a little girl she made the cutest character drawings to accompany her stories, often taking more time with the art than the story. As a preteen she spent hour’s meticulously planning collages that represented her life.

First year of high school, she had a wonderful Art teacher who loved Peppers style and engaged her creativity. Pepper felt excited about every pending art project and also collaged in her spare time! Her fashion style of colored hair, and thrift store finds daily reflected her creativity.

Grade nine, she had a new conservative art teacher, who expected all the assigned projects to look similar. One day Pepper did a clay model of a skater dude; I chuckled at the cute caricature, fashioned after fourteen year old boy. One particular boy with a twenty eight inch waist; wore a size thirty something pants. Resting in the center of his bottom, he presented his pristine boxers to the world. Excess material slouched at his ankles, where his jumbo feet protruded. Resembling a gangly year old puppy! Many clones of this kid wandered the school yard, a reminder of my teen years, where Lee jeans, not as extreme, had to fit a certain way on my hips. Parents scoffed then, and they scoff today at certain styles. I chose to embrace youth and their variances. Giggling to myself at times.

The teacher criticized her clay skater boy, complaining it was completely out of proportion, grading her very low. Another alphabet project, they were to collage things about themselves for each letter, also graded low. Here are a few of my favorites, from the cherished book, depicting her mindset at fourteen. That insensitive denigration broke her spirit, ending her love of art class. She has done some sewing, made lots of jewelry and still wears clothes artistically. Disillusioned, by that teacher, she never took another art class. That one teacher managed to damage a part of my daughter’s creative spirit!

Sunday Scribblings "Crush"

My Three Hundredth Post

Sunday Scribblings

Rused Crush

Calculated conniving
Buxom thirteen
Choreographed a seat upon his knee
on the ride home from church
Blinded by my seduction
Sassy, savvy, emotionally starved
Clandestine, seemed to be my game
When it came to my crush
Sneaking out into the dark of night
Hiked me into his arms
Carrying me across puddles
Stealing kisses
While delivering
The morning paper
Scoundrel I was,
Fooling them
Rained soaked hair
Washed in the basement sink
Diverting my escape
Adrenaline pumping
Camouflaging my
Sack laden eyes
Normal semblance
Of eggs and chatter
Cosmetics and made bed
All a ruse
For a kiss
From a handsome
Eighteen year old
Quinn

Illustration Friday " Gravity"

Illustration Friday " Gravity"

Gestures of Love

Gestures of Love

Starting the coffee or tea in the morning
Bringing home a cd of his favorite artist ,
on the day it’s released
Ironing her pants when she’s in the bath
Calling around to find
the best mouth organs
Bringing home a bag of peanut M&Ms
just because they’re his favorites
Meeting her at the bus to walk her home
Rubbing her back and feet after a long day
Buying concert tickets to surprise him
Attending a concert you don’t love
But know he does, and vise versa
Showing up at work to buy her dinner
So she doesn’t have to eat alone
Picking up a movie he’s wanted to see
Watching a girly movie when she needs to

Giving her a present early,

so she can be warm,

and because it matches her outfit
Kissing each other before work,
no matter what .
Buying him fun socks
because he loves them
Calling each other
to see what needs to be picked up
Always being thoughtful and supportive
Celebrating each others talents
Respecting each others choices
Being tolerant of obnoxious habits
Sharing a favorite root beer
on special occasions
Picking up whip cream for her mocha
Buying each other phone time
or bus passes,
Just because it’s run out .
Saying “I love you”
Every time you hang up the phone!

Imagine she has ten!

This amazing mother of ten kids will turn sixty in March. There is often distain when you hear of someone having that many kids, but I can’t imagine the world without even one of them. Corrie is pictured here with two of her seven boys. Bryan’s twenty one and the youngest child, ten years younger, at eleven.

Little brother begged mom to visit big brother last friday, a rare event. The boys played video games and music together while us ladies had coffee and a chat!

Being an only child, Pepper cherishes every moment spent with this loving family. All the children have been taught excellent manners and respect for each others space. Raised in an average sized home it was imperative to live harmoniously. Like any family, differences occur, but for the most part they’re all friends. Family gatherings fill this mother with so much pride and joy! Corrie really embraces Pepper as one of her own, it thrills me that she found such an awesome family to have in her life!

Devastated by the death of her mom when she was just a child, I don’t think Corrie truly ever recovered. Having ten kids assures she will never be alone again!

Sunday Scribblings " Yummy Home"

Sunday Scribblings

Yummy Home

Yummy is my magenta home
Hospitality I share
Fancy drinks or starbuck’s brew
In a kitchen that needs repair
French onion soup and brownies
Scrumptious food I serve
Friends have come in droves this week
Conveying a special verve
We enjoy meals and conversation
Reminisced by candle light
There’s a yummy feeling
They stay till late at night
Apprehensions dissipate
Ego silenced in their presence
Nicks and bruises relegate
As I relax in my own haven

Illustration Friday "Sprout"

Illustration Friday

Sprout

Poetry Thursday "Calling on Change"

Poetry Thursday has a changed look, in honor of that we write about change!

Calling on Change

I need a change
To clear clutter
From my life
my heart
I’ve loved my car
But, like my life
it has disappointed
as of late
All the glitches
breakdowns
Too much
weight
on body
and Soul
I need
pleasant
change
while going
through
“The change”
Life
Should be smooth
Solid
Secure
Instead
I worry
Wonder
Waver
Waiting
For positive
change

Ummmm????

Monday I had two friends for lunch; it was a pleasant time of interesting conversation and delicious food. However it was one of those days where I wasn’t quite myself. In the morning after my bath while hurrying to dress, I quickly put on my jean vest, forgetting to put my dress on first. I was standing there chuckling at the confusion. You probably had to be there to appreciate the humor of the moment. Me standing in my underwear, sporting only a vest.

Soon after my friends arrived, I entered the garage to grab some bottled water and creamer, instead stood there perplexed for several seconds, as I tried to remember what the heck I was doing in there. Finally I popped my head back into the house, querying the girls “Why am I in here?” Finally the intense giggling jarred my memory.

Very strange how those menopausal moments occur out of no where! I did manage to put on a nice lunch and have a few laughs at myself too! The labyrinth of conversation did eventually visit how the brain needs to purge some of the excess useless information stored over the years, to make room for the new minutiae.

More Birthday!

The first picture was taken just before a brunch date with her dad! Company and phone calls flowed in an out all day! Friends came for dinner, Pepper has a canker virus that played havoc with her food choices, the others have colds. As far as I can remember she seemed to get sick around her birthday every year. Many emotional issues surround those pivotal occasions in life! Way too many expectations. Living in the flow really does make life less stressful!

This year my princess requested a raspberry, cream cheese dessert, rather than the usual chocolate mud pie I make as her birthday cake. I decorated it with dollar store finds! She seemed thrilled, I missed the candle ritual, but it looks like she enjoyed it!

She finally retired to bed just after one, cuing her company, by announcing that she was tired! What nerve, wish I had her candor in those matters. Problem was, it was me that always over stayed my welcome. When I’m having fun I hate to leave. I am last to arrive, last to leave. Not the most flattering trait! Mind you I do always help with clean up, that must at least be good for a few brownie points! I don’t have the staying power of yesteryear, too tired, less of a partier!

A couple of goddesses are coming for a casual lunch so I must toodle to get my bath. My car is in the red zone again! So more worry about that, say some prayers that it’s not too costly, thanks! Have a great day!

Peppers Birthday

Pepper I had Damien Rices's song playing,Woman like a Man, but removed it, not wanting to offend my blogging friends! I know you are a walking oxymoron, I was afraid that song may just fuel the wrong impression! Unlike you, I made a bad first choice! Love you!

This post is dedicated to my daughter Pepper who is twenty-one today! It has been quite a feat getting it together. I had to sneak into her room, grab all her perfectly organized pictures to make these collages, it took hours. I was so afraid of messing up her picture schematic, it took me twice as long to scan and replace the pictures in their perfect order! Pepper reads my blog daily, this blog was started as somewhat of a legacy for my daughter and her children to come.

Darling you know I love you, have a wonderful day, full of laughter, joy and beauty!

Woman of Dimension

She’s five foot three and a bit,
Woman of dimension
A spit fire dynamo
Female who demands attention

A shell protects a tender heart
Emotions she dares never show
Friendly, she speaks with many
Yet she’s hard to get to know

People tell her their secrets,
Her Loyalty goes beyond
Sensitivity ignites passion
When she finally makes a bond

Good choices are her forte
Songs refer to her eyes of blue
She’s an intuitive witty, woman
With many dreams to pursue


She walks and talks with confidence
Her outfits take command
Professing to be an oxymoron,
Right, for business with a moral left stand


Things about her you’ll never see,
Diverse in fashion and thought
Powerful woman of dimension
Always doing what she ought!







Letter to my daughter

You remind me of her
All the best things I remember
You move fast like she did
Except in the morning
When you want me to
prepare your breakfast

and lunch
You thought I didn’t notice
But since I stopped doing
Your hair everyday
Some how you need to know
just how much I love you
And I guess that’s just my way
Hot tea on the run,
Toast in a bag for the bus
Did I ever tell you?
I love it when you call me
To tell me you’ve arrived safely
You’ve always
Made my life easy
People wonder
How I got such a good kid
I wonder that sometimes too
I’m so blessed
You are, amazing
Have I told you that lately?
Probably not
I’m embarrassed
At how good you are to me
I keep it on the down low
You’ve always done me proud
ALWAYS!!!
I admire the driven woman that you are
How you always set goals
then meet them
I revere our differences
You were born to lead
The teacher told me that when you were six
Then again when you were fifteen
Secretly I knew
When you protected our show towels at three
And kept the kids from
Running through the French doors
into the living room at five
I’ve always enjoyed being your mom
Some people complain about their kids
But not me
Oh we can annoy each other at times
Once a month maybe
Other than that
We’re the best of friends
I enjoy your company
I really like to give you your space
But you always bring me into the fold
What a joy it is
Being your mother
Yes you are a lot like my mom
Feisty powerful little woman
Just like her
I have a new appreciation
For her spirit
As I watch it unfold
In you!

Nintendo Queen

Hard to believe you were a shy child
who only shared your thoughts with me
You’ve come a long way from Lego
Old school Nintendo and trolls
Graduating into life
Carrying mementos of the past
Sporting a Nintendo belt buckle
And Mario Ring tone on your phone
Brings me joy to see how much
You cherished those many hours
We spent playing Dr. Mario
Diverting monthly cramps
Mean girls and Daddy troubles
I used to be the queen of the game
With pride I hand over my crown
To the true champion,
The new Queen of Dr. Mario,
of life

and of my heart!

All my love

Mom

Poetry Thursday "Subjugated"

Mya Mayza

Math is my Arch enemy; although necessary, I have a true aversion to it. Amazingly I enjoy card games such as bridge and crib! Yes and money, we mustn’t forget Money, I love those numbers. Note my “true aversion” is not completely accurate, and that’s how I see truth. For the record I despised this Poetry Thursday prompt, only because it exposes my inept math skills.

Subjugated

Formulate to equate?
Numerals which I truly hate
Transfixed uncouth Sleuth
To postulate the truth
Politician’s conviction
Possibly my affliction
A discord affirmation
Not congruent interpretation
Truth mired in contempt
Proof won’t be my attempt
My truth, your truth, do they correlate?
Left or right can they conjugate?
Subjugated by my nemesis
And its antithesis