Wonderful Watercolor

Wonderful Watercolor. What a change from when I started. As stated before I am going to a three day class. Today is the last day. I feel much better about it than I did the first day I started. My painting does somewhat resemble the subject. One thing I learned is that most of the other people in the class have the same feeling I do. Yesterday it was with a sigh of relief that it all started making sense. Hooray, Hooray, Hooray.

Practice

Wow what a day. I went to a watercolor class today at Raleigh,NC. I have to say I was glad, sad, frustrated and who knows what else. When ask by another artist if I felt good about my painting I just looked at her and said "I am just practicing for the next one." I hope this is a positive attitude. I learned it from my daughter. Oh well, we will see. I know one thing for sure I could be a clown artist.

Procrastination

Procrastination is one thing in life you really should not do. For years I have put off things for later that I really should have done today. It seems like I would have learned a lesson. Not. I still do it. I remember making my daughters wedding dress and cake and still sewing and working on them the day of the wedding. Also at my mom and dad's 50th wedding anniversary. What is it with me. Some say I work better under pressure. I don't believe it. What I do is work frantically under pressure. As I sit here today I am panicking because I ordered art supplies for an art class I have at 10 am tomorrow and my supplies are not here yet. I didn't spend the extra $5.oo for express delivery. Oh no I decided to risk it. Now I am about to cry with my daughter and son-in-law and husband all but teasing me. Well I am in no teasing mood. When will I learn but more importantly what will I do now. Waah-Waah-Waah

Laughter

Sitting here in my art studio with my youngest daughter Lacy. We sat we laughed, and laughed, and laughed, especially when we were listening to music and I glanced around and with mouth wide open and head bobbing she blurted out the song. I don't even know which song. It didn't matter only the total abandon and spontaneity of the moment. I am still laughing. Moments to treasure. How funny the funny things that make us laugh at ourselves and others.

Difficult Times

"Life is a few days of trouble a wise man once said. But I'm not complaining for I'm sheltered I'm clothed and I'm fed." How true is that. I may not ever have all or be all I hope to be but I have enjoyed a lot. I have been on the top and down to the dregs of the bottom. In the end nothing matters except that wherever or whatever I am doing , I am doing my best. To do no harm. That is part of the physicians oath. What a statement. How difficult to go through life and do no harm. Not just physically but mentally. Words can hurt or lift up, they can tear down and destroy or make a bad situation worse or a whole lot better. Now let me be about my fathers business helping others, lifting up, encouraging. Help me oh Lord when I falter to steady myself and continue. Continue in the most Holy faith. To keep up the good fight even in bad times, even when I don't feel like it, even in the midst of a storm. Continually encouraging others may I make a significant difference in the lives I touch. To do no harm. How awesome.

My Benny

My Benny. My Benny has been with me for 27 years. I would like to think that he chose me but in reality I must confess that I chose him. I will never forget the first day I saw him. He was a little skinny man with jet black hair. I don't know if I would have picked him out in a crowd but there he was at my mom and dad's store. He had come to meet me. I had just got off from work and was tired but when I saw his smile I suddenly felt rested. We talked for a few minutes and agreed to meet the next Friday and go the movies. We went to see a Richard Pryor film and it was so offensive we left halfway through it. He took me home and I would never have guessed that the rest of my life would be wrapped up in his arms. He swept me off my feet by his kindness and gentle ways. I loved him at first sight. We married after a 6 months. I had two children and he accepted them and treated them like his own. I certainly wont tell you that we never had our ups and downs because we have but our commitment has weathered it all. I am glad that now 27 years later I can still say he is my best friend. I love him and defend him even when he is wrong (which is a lot of times). He has had a lot of medical problems and I can't imagine my life without him. In 2001 we left our home in Alabama and went to Montana. I took a contract as a travel nurse and we loved it. We camped out west with the bears and wildlife. We fished and didn't catch much but all the while our love for each other grew stronger. He has loved me when I was skinny and now that I am fat. He has loved me when I didn't deserve it. I am convinced that no where on this earth is there a man as magnificent as My Benny. There is no man as great or as kind. There is no man so perfect as him. Therefore I will never love another. He is my everything.

Flowers of the Heart

Flowers of the heart are flowers that bloom inside of you. They are there and pop up when you least expect them. When you are having a really bad day and someone special calls that is , flowers of the heart. The other day I was sitting home just minding my own business when the doorbell rang. I wasn't expecting anyone. I wasn't waiting for any deliveries. I looked out the door and no one was there but at closer inspection I found a long slender box sitting in the old rocker on my front porch. I carried it in with a puzzled look on my face and to my surprise as I opened it, inside I found this beautiful bouquet of sunflowers. A card tucked neatly inside told me that they were from my oldest daughter. The one thousands of miles from home. I smiled. Flowers of the Heart sent from thousands of miles away from my daughter who was thinking of me. How blessed I am. How wonderful to be called her mom.

What If

What if you woke up tomorrow and never heard another bird chirp. What if the bees stop buzzing. What if you could never smell rain again. What if you can't see the trees when the wind gently sways there branches.What if everyone you love is gone and you never see them again. What if they never see you again. What if you never feel the wet kisses of your dogs tongue on your face again. What if you can never say the words I love you again. What if you never hear the words I love you again. What if you can't feel love. What If.

Things That Make Me Smile

Things that make me smile. Just a thought. These days I seem to get bogged down in the everyday mundane things of life and at times have to stop myself and say "self things aren't as bad as they seem". As I go to work day in day out I should be more thankful for what I have and my ability to do things. I am not just a stay at home, cook three meals a day, watch TV and read kinda lady. Not that these things are bad after all some people do have a special knack for those things. But I am more. The things I absolutely love are as follows, family first always, my precious Benny, my mom and dad , children, siblings and others that have reached out and grasp at my heart strings. I love painting even tho really I am not that good.View them at http://www.angelasacrylics.blogspot.com/ I can sit in my new studio and paint for hours on end, days, weeks,months and probly years. Too bad I have other fish to fry tho and life continues, Thank God. I smile right now as I hear the gentle voices playing in the next room. I have had the pleasure of keeping my grandchildren this last week and it has been quite the experience. I have learned a lot like if you go out and buy them airplanes to fly and one breaks they both get thrown in the trash while I sleep because one is no good without the other. I have learned how delicious mac and cheese is and that koolaid will come out of the carpet if you are persistent and also permanent marker. I do wish I could keep Logan also who is living with his aunt Becky while his mom is deployed in Qatar. I smile when I am brought yellow weed flowers by the hundreds and I show joy with each and every one right before they find their home in the white grave of a trash can. I have kissed boo boo's and cleaned yucky butts. I have wiped tears and listened to endless laughter. I have been a referee and a teacher. I have felt love. I still have most of my hair but I noticed this past week that it is a lot more gray. I don't care for that is trivial. I have helped paint cars and butterflies and bunnies that you have to look very close to pick them out. I have lived and smiled today as with many other days. I have loved and have felt love and really when you think about it what more could I ask for. So now in answer to my question "What makes me smile" Well I sit here with a big grin on my face and tell you , Life does.

Honestly

Honestly I am honest. I realize that only a few things in life are important. Family, friends, and last but not least "Days Off". I dream of having an art gallery ( will never achieve) but yet still I dream. I hope to achieve peace. I want to live an unhurried life. Promoting a calm environment, I never like controversy. I will go out of my way to bring harmony. I never thrive on chaos. Don't get me wrong I am not a pushover but I strive for the title peacemaker. When I have to point out the faults of others I always try to do it diplomatically. I never want to embarrass or hurt the feelings of others. I am a bit shy in a crowd at least to begin with. I feel that I do warm up fast. I hope to earn the title of being a good mother, daughter, sister, wife, friend. I don't need roses pinned on me but do hope that I am the topic of quiet conversation in a good sense of course. But on the chance it is not so good I don't want to know about it. I like helping others and listening to their needs. What am I? I am a person who loves both God and Country. And so I will continue. I will write, I will paint and just carry on. Stay tuned for the next episode of MY LIFE.

Lima Beans

Lima beans was a food frequently served at our house. Simple yet good. Who knew at that time that starchy with foods were not so good for you. Mama was working again and it was Sandy's turn to cook. Oh yea! it was always Sandy's turn to cook. She set about preparing the Lima beans which she had seen mama cook at least a million times before. Everyone knows they have to be soaked prior to cooking. I did notice that it was taking her a little longer than usual but what did I care I was about my daily business of playing. When we sat down to eat that night set before us was a delicious pot of lima bean soup. As I discovered what took her so long was the added step of peeling each and every bean prior to cooking. I vagely remember my brother David making fun of her which ended with her running to her room crying and David having his first experience at dish washing. He learned to love anything she cooked from then on especially lima bean soup.

Horses Know

A few years ago I worked on a reservation in Montana. While I was there the chief medicine man died. Ceremonies were held. Colorful clothes were blessed by the other medicine man and tied to a pole which they had erected in the mans pasture. It was one of the most awesome things I have ever seen. Each day I drove by this monument and noticed that the horse remained. Through the wind and rain, snow and sleet, sun and moon, everyday he was still there making me wonder if he ever left. Whether he ate or drank I don't know but I know by his display of affection and dedication to his late owner, his friend and companion that horses know. Horses know when someone they love has gone to another world. A better place. They wait without falter for them to return. They remain faithful because they know.

Entrapment

Entrapment is when you set someone up to fail, get caught or punished. My brother David and I were best buddies. That is unless he decided to be buddies with my sister Sandy that day. You see we could not all three be friends or even civil to each other on the same day. This day in particular was like any other except David and I had a plan. We would trap Sandy in the bathroom and keep her there for as long as we wanted. So we sat and waited. Finally she went into the bathroom and we sprang into action. The bathroom had two doors and while he held one door tightly shut I held the other. There was only one problem which we really hadn't considered. She had just received a brand new pair of go-go boots for Christmas, white ones complete with pom-poms which jiggled when she walked. They were her prized possessions. As we held the doors shut tight she became wild like a caged animal, kicking, and screaming, clawing and mauling the doors. We were strong and did not give in one little bit. Then to our utter disbelief we heard kicking and then something that sounded like the breaking of wood. Finally we let her out and she was mad as a wet setting hen. It was then that we found out what the noise had been. With those brand new go-go boots our darling sister had kicked a big gaping hole in the door. Boy was she gonna be in trouble. I don't remember what mama and daddy did but I know that the hole remained in the door for years as a reminder of what happens when you lock your sister in the bathroom and she turns into a raging beast.

The Hideout

The Hideout was a secret place. A little niche cut out of dense hedge. It was close to civilization yet a million miles away. It was another favorite childhood place, close in proximity to the Mimosa. I don't think my mom and dad knew that it existed. We would run and play day after day and find solace in the hideout. When our friends would come over only the most trusted ones were allowed in for a peek. I smoked my first cigarette there. One puff was enough for a lifetime. One of the other important memories of the hideout was the time my brother and sister combined our spending money. Now days referred to as an allowance and bought a newspaper so my brother could teach me to read. I must have been in the second grade. I don't think the venture was successful at that time. I didn't learn to read overnight but I did learn what it means to stick together. To combine efforts for a common goal. It was then that I learned about love. What grater love can there be than giving up your break money to help your baby sister learn to read. As I recall we hid the paper there overnight. A night that it happened to come a big gully washing rain storm. My paper got ruined but nothing could destroy the love shown between siblings during the joyful days of summer spent in the hideout.

A Cat Named Tinkerbell

Tinkerbell. a name I chose for my childhood cat. In fact it was a name I chose for every cat which I had during my childhood which totaled about 4. One good thing was that I didn't ever have to worry over what to name them. It just kinda came naturally. Tinkerbell was a good sound cat name. All the cats liked it. At least I guess they did, they all came when I called them. They would rub against my legs and purr nonstop while digging their sharp little claws into my soft skin. I didn't care cause I loved them, I loved them everyone. If you ever get a cat and can't decide on a name for it, please feel free to use this tried and true name. It is a good sound name and believe me. Cats just love it.

The Mimosa

In the midst of our front lawn stood The Mimosa, with its airy leaves and those blooms of pink. Fragrant wisp carried along on the gentle breeze. A hideout just perfect for someone like me. The libs were strong and amply supported me as I climbed up, up as high as I dared. It's blossoms provided beautiful decoration for my curly blond hair. How bold it stood with branches low to the ground. Branches which welcomed me to come and play there among the greenery. I could see everything while secluded from the view of others. I felt safe as I inhaled the natural perfume which tickled my nose. I find a smile just creeping across my face some 45 years later at just the thought of that old tree.

Tadpoles and Fishing Holes

Tadpoles. Little black things that are squishy and have short wiggly tails. They are found in still waters of swimming places and fishing holes. they have new contraptions these days to catch them in but really they prefer to be caught in old timey mason jars. Of course you must poke holes in the lids so they can get fresh air to breath. How do they breath? Well! I don't know but I am sure they must breath somehow. I had tadpoles as a child. Black ones that are oh so fun to watch, but I also had some, one in particular that was a giant. He started out black and squishy like the others and then he turned see through green. You could even see his guts. He grew larger, and larger, and larger then the funniest thing happened.He grew back legs. He still swam and swam. He lived in my fish aquarium. One day my mom decided we needed to put him in a shallow bowl with a rock just in case. I don't remember his name but it was probably Tinkerbell. Anyway, one day when I got home from school the frog had lept, jumped ship. He was gone. I learned on e thing that day. That things never stay the same and above all you can never trust a tadpole.

Fishing

Fishing. The handling of slimy icky creatures from the depths of the waters. Worms and crickets are their food of choice. Catching them is quite the challenge. That is unless your father has taught you to be sly and avid at this sport ever since you were in diapers. And so it was with me, my dad would often take me out to catch the big one. I baited my own hook, with worm guts under my fingernails, crickets squirming and kicking but in the end I would come back home with a prize catch. I can recall once when he took me to a location in south Alabama which the locals called Dead River. I was quite young I don't remember how old. We took a small aluminium boat and paddled it to a secluded cove. There in the water was a menagerie of felled Cyprus logs and drift wood. I could just imagine the snakes which lurked underneath. As I cautiously scanned the area I could see blackish green turtles with their long necks sticking out while basking in the early morning sun. They were agile and would slide effortlessly into the water at the least movement perceived as a threat. What my dad forgot to tell me was that this day would be different. This day we would be fly fishing. Fly fishing is an art in itself. You take an artificial fly or a popping bug which is what we used and with one fluid motion you flip the fly to the back then to the front making it land in the exact position where the fish are. Horrified I sat as that little boat lurched and rocked back and forth with each flick of the rod. I knew that any moment we would surely capsize. I screamed and cried and I am sure my dad was ready to tie me up by the end of our trip which ended long before he wanted it to. I don't think he ever took me fly fishing again. To this day I am a little leary of the water and I attribute it to my day spent in a small aluminum boat at a place called Dead River in the back woods of southern Alabama.

She Was There

She was there even before I was born. She was only two years old as she waited for me, her competition to arrive. And so it began. The rival, as children I can remember when we fought like any other children. We played imaginary games, she took my toys. She bossed me around and was really quite the bully. But that was then. She was strong spirited and free as the wind while I was always the timid one. She always said that I was mama and daddy's favorite. Mama gave me kitchen utensils to play with which she promptly took and sometimes even hit me over the head with them. I had a beautiful Thumblina doll which I loved very much but somehow I kept finding her with her arm ripped off. Mama would always get needle and thread and with the precision of a surgeon sew it back on. Our mama worked full time and we were home a lot to tend the house, cook, and clean. I will admit that it was She who ended up doing the most. I would get a whooping any time she thought it was necessary, then somehow she always talked me into being her best friend before mama got home. Of course no one tells on their best friend. And so was our life as children. I remember the day she married and left me. I was crushed. I was happy for her but I missed her terribly. It was then that I realized how much I loved her. I loved her for who she was. It was then that I really noticed that she was not only my sister but she was my best friend. Through the years we both have changed. She is still strong and beautiful, while I am still the timid one. Not quite as timid as I was as a child because age does things to people. It makes you different, it softens you rough edges yet makes you bold. I grew up and had children of my own. I can remember how very much she loved my firstborn. She bought clothes for her and treated her like her own. She was still strong any time I needed a shoulder to cry on. She was there when my life had difficult twist and turns. She gave me advise and helped me along the way as I became an adult. Yes she was only two years older than me but her wisdom far exceeded that. I depended on her. When my husband had a heart attack at age 45, She was there. Holding my hand, wiping my tears, and helping me go on with my life. When I decided to go to nursing school during my thirties it was She who stood by my side and said you can do it. When I wanted to leave the town I grew up in and work as a travel nurse in Montana she said go ahead. I didn't realize that as I drove away tears were in her eyes. She was there when I was ready to return home, she and her wonderful husband came and helped us move back. Through the years, when life dealt me hard times on one thing I could depend, She was there. And now as I sit here thinking of all my happy memories there is one common thread in all of them, She was there. Not to long ago I received a gift from her. As I opened it to my surprise there swaddled in the tissue paper was something of great value to me. A Thumblina doll with arm intact. As I write this today one thing in my life is still sure, one rock still stands, someone still loves me. She is still here. And so is my bond with my sister, my friend, and her name is Sandy.

What I Want

What I want. What I want is to get up one day to a peaceful world. What I want is to turn on the television and hear how someone helped someone. Headlines, not pushed to the bottom somewhere hidden among the trash. What I want is a smile from a stranger, and for me to give a smile in return. What I want is to help someone without wanting something in return. I want to do this without even needing the acknowledgement of a thank you. What I want is to see children run and play freely without a thought having to be given that a pedophile might be lurking somewhere close by. What I want is to be neighbourly to my neighbors. What I want is to be the friend someone needs, to be the hand that helps, to be the ear that listens. What I want is to consciously be better at giving the people I meet each day something they want. What I want is to do my part to make this world a better place to live. What I want is to be a peace maker. What I want is to be like Jesus.