Southern Belles & Artists

Politics

2012-01-26T09:55:00.000-08:00

I spent a lot of time on the phone today. Holding. Holding. Holding. So, while "holding" I made this. I didn't set out to make this. It just evolved ...

I like politics. So, does that mean I'm demented?

What's worse, I'm a republican. A "moderate" republican. But, I am often embarrassed by my fellow republicans. Especially the ones in Congress. They don't seem to have "the will of the people" on their agenda. It seems to be all about beating Obama. Why can't it be about doing what's best for the American people?

I'm worried about the economy. My dollars don't go as far as they once did. I'm worried about jobs. My brother was unemployed for more than two years and only recently found temporary construction work for minimum wage of $7.67 an hour. Good thing he gets food stamps or he wouldn't be able to afford to eat.
And, the "national debt." I'm worried about that, too. Not for me so much, but for my daughter and granddaughter, since they will be the ones burdened with paying that debt. What's wrong with doing what's right? Does doing the right thing mean you're a democrat or a republican? Or, could it be ...

Wait! Wait! Doing the right thing! It's the American Way! That's what it is! So, let's get rid of all the UN-American people in Congress. Let's NOT elect republicans or democrats! Let's vote for the Americans who are interested in doing the will of the people! Maybe then we could get it right.

"Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest."

~ Mark Twain

Reading Glasses

2012-01-11T13:26:00.000-08:00

My fifth grade class picture (1962)

I have worn eyeglasses since I was in fifth grade. I have vivid memories of my first pair of glasses. They were horn rimmed glasses, slightly rounded, and I was amazed at what I could see. I saw individual blades of grass for the first time. I could read the writing on the chalkboard at school for the first time. And, I felt like glasses made me smarter. Remember, now ... I was 10-years-old and hadn't yet figured out that I'd already missed a lot of things by being myopic.

I was required by law to wear by glasses when driving. And, of course, I had to wear them when watching a movie or the TV. I could see close up just fine. But, if something was more than a foot from my face, it was blurry. And, so, I moved through life as a nearsighted nerd, always with my face stuck in a book. (I loved reading and it had absolutely nothing to do with wearing glasses! I still love reading! On my Kindle! And, thanks to technology, I can do it without glasses! But, that's a story for another day!)

In 1990 I returned to school. I had completed two years of college nearly 20 years earlier, so I was grateful to have a chance to return to the wonderful world of academia to complete my degree. Along about the second semester of classes, I began to notice that I had to lift my glasses off my nose to see what I was reading or writing. I spent the better part of a year practicing this technique and, finally, at the urging of a fellow student, went for an eye exam. I was old enough for bifocals!

In 2001, the year the first Harry Potter film came out, I started struggling with my bifocals. Seeing things closeup was becoming more troublesome. And, as someone who loves doing needlework, this became a real problem. One day around this time I was in a Walgreens waiting on a friend and browsing the "reading glasses." I found a cute pair of oval shaped horn rimmed glasses with +1.25 lenses that seemed to do the trick for me, so I bought them. I remember that they cost $8.99 and I coveted those glasses as though they were Harry's glasses!

In 2007, my youngest daughter was home from college for Happy Thanksgiving and she commented that my glasses were all over the place. By now, I had acquired numerous pairs. A pair by my chair for reading and needlework (now a +2.0), a pair on my desk with the computer, a pair in the bathroom for plucking eyebrows, a pair on the dresser so I could see the clasps on my abundant collection of necklaces, a pair in the doll room so I could see the shoes and accessories for my fashion dolls and a pair in the kitchen. Oh, yeah! There was also a pair that lived on my desk at work and a pair in the car's glovebox, just in case I needed them. I had reading glasses everywhere!

At my darling husband's suggestion, I went to see the optometrist and she said I could get "trifocals" to meet the far-middle-close range of my degenerating vision. I chose beautiful gold rimmed John Lennon frames for these new glasses and waited two days for their delivery.

This was very exciting! Technology was going to make my life easier! How wonderful!

I was quite happy when I first got my "John Lennon" glasses from the Lenscrafters store.

And, in my enthusiasm, I wore them all the time.

For three days ... count 'em ... one, two, three ... for 3 days I wore those trifocals. I loved the frames! People commented on them, and, once again I thought they made me smarter. BUT! They made me dizzy. Very, very dizzy. Friends and coworkers said I would get used to them, and I swear to you ... I tried!

After the third day wearing my "trifocals,"

I made my way back to the optometrist

and told her I wanted

just regular lenses in the glasses,

so I could wear them for

driving and watching movies.

To hell with trifocals!

Reading glasses were cheap!

I didn't need to be dizzy!

I just wanted to see!

Up close.

Far away.

And, in between.

Why, I bought "Ugly Betty" glasses

at Target for a buck a pair! Red ones!

Polka dotted ones!

Leopard ones!

Plaid ones!

And, camouflage ones!

I was swimming

in cheap reading glasses!

It was heaven!

Today, I welcomed new "old school" reading glasses at strength +2.50

Yep.

My eyes are getting worse.

Sad, but true.

My mom had macular degeneration, and I remember what a struggle it was for her. Like me, she, too, enjoyed needlework. The thing is, you have to be able to see what you're doing to thread a needle or wield a crochet hook. So, while I worry about my sight, I continue to see the optometrist and the retina specialist and I enjoy the lastest in boomer fashion accessories! Cheap, cute reading glasses!

Viele Road

2011-10-28T06:36:00.000-07:00

It's Friday again and it's been a really busy week.

I am a creature of habit. I drive to work every morning, five days a week and I use the same route to get to my office 99% of the time.

Why in the world would I write about it? Because for four minutes every Monday through Friday I drive along Viele Road, also known as SW 70 Avenue between Griffin and Stirling Roads.

The roads in Davie are named after the pioneer families of Davie, those early Everglades settlers who were tough enough to live in the mosquito infested sawgrass prairies and smart enough to see what southern Florida could be. The Griffin Brothers ran barges up and down the New River, utilizing the newly dug canal between Davie and Fort Lauderdale and bought lots of land. Frank Stirling was Davie's first mayor and a horticultural genius who knew how to grow anything in the fertile muck of the River of Grass. They both made their fortunes here. And, their descendants continue to be active in the community, which I think is really cool. It gives you a sense of the place, which I like a lot.

So, there your are. That's my offering to the writing gods for today. I've taken lots of pictures of Viele Road over the years, so here are a few.

Enjoy!

The S-11 Canal runs along the west side of Viele Road,
which runs north-south between Stirling and Griffin Roads.

Most of the homes and horse ranches along Viele Road
are one acre or more. There are a lot of small lakes.

This section is what I call "a manicured lawn." The birds
seem to love this section -- there is almost always a bird here.

A Woodstork, just hanging out on the manicured lawn!

This is my girlfriend, Norma, with Lonnie Quinn from NBC6.
He was the meteorologist who was assigned to report on the
relocation of the 1912 Viele House, which sat at the corner of
Griffin Road & SW 70 Avenue. The house was moved to save it
from demolition in 2003 and what a media circus it was!

This is my personal favorite photo, shot on a cool and foggy January morning
in 2007. The geese acted like they owned the road, and, for these few minutes
they did! It's available to purchase on Veer, here!

Carpe diem!

Alice, big and small

2011-10-19T12:37:00.000-07:00

I feel a little bit like Alice did when she drank from a bottle labeled "DRINK ME" and became small. And, it's not the most comfortable feeling. You see, in order to talk about it, I'd have to go into details. Are you supposed to go into details on your blog?

Okay, then. Here's how it's gone. So far.

I'm a big fan of Jazzercise. It's fun and it keeps me fit. I honestly don't know how I would live without it. So, during a class sometime in August we were doing plié (Which looks a lot like a squat, but Jazzercise founder Judi Sheppard Missett doesn't like to call them squats!) and I noticed something going on in my lower left abdomen. If you put a pair of socks in your jeans pocket and squat, that's sort of how it felt, but inside my body.

When I got home after class, I disrobed and examined my abdomen. Now, I have never had a flat stomach. Not even when I was a teenager. So, I long ago gave up any hope of looking like those skinny models in VOGUE. I accepted my body the way it is. And, that's been okay so far. But, here I am in front of the mirror, naked as a jaybird, looking at my abdomen. All the crunches I've done in Jazzercise have paid off, because my abs are looking good for an old lady like me. But, that little pouch on the lower left ... is that fat? And, why do I have it on the left and not on the right?

Over the last couple of months, I've poked and prodded my abs, wondering why it feels weird, like I have a pair of socks in my pocket. Since it didn't hurt, I figured it's just fat. Until last week.

I was leaning across a counter that just happened to be at the right height for me to press my lower abdomen against it with my full weight behind it, and I felt something. It wasn't pain, but it was something to think about. And, after I thought about it, I called my doctor.

I've had the same physician for more than 20 years, which is saying something in today's world of healthcare. And, he's a good doctor. I told him what I've just finished writing here, now, and after a thorough examination, he suggested we should do sonograms. (I like the "we." It makes it feel like "we're" doing something together, even though it's me who endures the procedure.) So, three days later, I arrived before sunrise at the local women's clinic with a full bladder. The tech was terrific, letting me go pee as soon as she was done with the first scan, the one requiring the full bladder! She did three scans and sent me off with a pink carnation in honor of October's Breast Cancer Awareness.

Later in the afternoon, my doctor called and said the results from the first scan had come in and it showed "an abnormal thickening of the uterus." I guess that's my pair of socks, huh?

I have an appointment next week with my GYN. Lucky for me, I've had the same GYN for at least ten years, so he's got all my medical history right there, which I hope is helpful. And, now, like Alice, I feel small. My imagination runs away with me on most days, and I suddenly feel as if my time is running out. I am mortal. I am human. I am oh, so small.

There are a hundred "what if's" and I've poured over most of them while waiting for that next appointment. In the meantime, I'm looking for that little cake with "EAT ME" on it so I can be big. I really need to be big.

Where IS that little cake? Where is my courage? Did I lose it when I fell down the rabbit hole?

An open letter to my cousins, upon discovery of my aunt's death ...

2011-08-26T13:01:00.000-07:00

Note: Death is a part of life. I know that.
But, it can still surprise you.
Especially when you're not expecting it.

If there hadn't been an earthquake along the eastern seaboard earlier this week, I might still be in the dark. Here's how I'm handling this ...

for now.

Dear Carolyn & John,

Wednesday morning I placed a phone call to Evelyn’s cell phone. I thought I’d check in on her following the earthquake on Tuesday. I hadn’t spoken to her since February, so it seemed like a good excuse to call. We spoke a few times a year and the last time I saw her was in 2009.

Aunt Evelyn and my darling husband, after having
dinner together in June 2009

Well, the message on her phone said it was no longer in service, which I thought was kind of odd. Then, I used Google to look her up, thinking I’d call her home phone. Google’s search delivered her obituary.

I didn’t think I could be shocked by anything anymore. After all, I’m 60 years old now. I’ve seen it all, right? But, THIS shocked me. In a way I wasn’t expecting.

I don’t expect that anyone would think about letting me know if she was sick. It’s not like I was a big part of her life. However, she WAS a big part of mine. I wrote about our last visit on my blog and will include it with this letter for you to read. And, comment on, if you choose.

I had to go to the internet to find your mailing addresses. My husband, Manfred, found a phone number for Carolyn and I called Wednesday night and left a message, but have yet to hear anything back, so I’m writing. Of course I’m hoping she’ll call on the weekend, so if you get this letter and you did call … I’ll be glad to hear from you.

I’d like to know what happened to Evelyn. I haven’t been able to think about anything else since making this discovery and I find these feelings to be very unsettling. I cannot know how you must be feeling with this loss. She was a wonderful spirit and I feel lucky to have had her for my aunt. I imagine she was a dynamite mother and grandmother and I am truly sorry for your losses. I think you must miss her a lot.

I know I’m not the best in the world at writing letters. Before the internet, I was a decent letter writer and actually have kept all the letters that were sent to me. But, like so many people, I have come to use e-mail and Facebook to keep in touch with people. I’ve looked for relatives on Facebook where I know their last names, (including you guys) but not everyone is Facebook friendly, and I understand that. But, I’m here, now, writing … asking … what happened to my Aunt Evelyn?

When I told my darling husband, he was shocked. And, surprised. Being from Germany, his perception of family is very different from the reality of my family. He doesn’t understand how a big family like ours is not more in touch with each other. I’ve never been able to answer that question for him, because I really don’t know the answer. Or, maybe I do know the answer, but have to look for it in my own history. After all, I was the one who left Virginia and came to Florida, right? Had I stayed there, odds are good I would’ve seen family members more often. Or would I? See what I mean? It’s hard to pinpoint where things fell apart. I’m sure it’s mostly my responsibility, though. It always is …

Aunt Christine & Aunt Evelyn

My darling husband gave me one of those digital picture frames for Christmas a couple of years ago; you know, the kind where you can load your photos and it rotates the photos in the frame? It sits on my desk at work and among those rotating photos are a couple from the Pork, Peanut & Pine Festival that Samantha and I drove up for when she was 10-years-old. (She’s 24 now!) I had scanned these photos so I could use them in my digital frame. I like seeing pictures of “My Family.”

From left: Cousins Sharon, Carolyn & Constance
(our mothers are sisters) with Aunt Evelyn, right,
and Carolyn's daughter, Ashley, behind.

As I age, I’m finding that my family is more important than ever. After Evelyn’s revelation to me the last time I saw her (see my blog entry), it changed the way I thought about Mama. A lot.

She also gave me copies of photos of family members from a couple of generations back. I tried to express to her how much they mean to me. It seems like it took such a long time to realize who I really am … who I was all along … because of where I come from and who I come from. I don’t know if this is a normal transition from middle age to the “final act” of life, but it’s what’s been going on with me. There are so many things I don’t know still, but I’m open to hearing stories and sharing memories, so, if this is something you feel like doing, you can be sure it would be appreciated by me. And, cherished.

I hope you’ll give all this some thought. And, I hope you’ll feel like writing or calling. I would welcome any opportunity to catch up with both of you, your families and your lives. Thanks for taking time to read. I’m sorry I wasn’t around for Evelyn at the end of her life. I would like to have talked to her one more time.

Big Banks, Small Service

2011-08-22T09:40:00.000-07:00

I've lived in my house for 24 years. My daughter was born five days after we moved in, and it's the only home she's ever known. I love my house and want to live there until I die.

I married my darling husband in 2004 after a whirlwind romance and we decided to live in my house and sell his. In 2006, I gave him a half interest in the house and we refinanced, taking enough money out to completely redo the interior ... new tile floors, rewiring for multiple electronic devices, new bathrooms, new kitchen. We also "hardened" the house against hurricanes with new storm windows and doors, including the garage door. At the time of the re-finance deal, money was easy to get because our property was "valued" far beyond what it was actually worth. And, we knew that! So, we were careful not to take more than we thought the house was "really" worth. The glitch? It was an "interest only" loan. I insisted on a fixed rate for five years from origination of the loan, and now I'm not sure if that was a wise thing or a stupid thing. We signed on for 7.5% interest on a $210,000 loan on a property valued at $400,000 at the time of the loan.

You might be asking why so high a rate ... and, it's a simple answer. I had a terrible credit history. As a single mother with a teenage daughter, there was never enough money! I had gone back to college, thinking more education would land me a better job. And, in truth ... it did. But, not the six-figure kind of job. Just middle income, which was fine with me. I was still broke, just not AS broke as before. Of course, I was saddled with still more debt, so I had the full-time job, the part-time job and took on free lance work whenever it came my way. I was often late paying, and that hurts your credit score. I think mine was somewhere in the low 500s when I met my darling husband.

As a German man with a degree in engineering, dh quickly saw my issues with money and insisted on helping me improve the way I handled "debt." He had a credit score in the 700s and made it clear to me that the "best" way was to save, then spend. Not spend, then scramble to save enough to pay. This was a new concept to me and I'm here to tell you ... I resisted at every opportunity!

God Bless my darling husband for his patience and perseverance. He taught me how to budget, how to set up automatic payments, how to be frugal ... he taught me how to manage my money better. And, I have improved tremendously these past five years. So much so, in fact, that my credit score was 678 when we went to apply for a refinance last week. You see, our loan "resets" in October, and we don't want to get caught having to pay a higher interest rate in the current market. THAT could be devastating!

But, back to my 678 credit score, because THAT is why I'm writing about it on my blog.

Last week we went to the bank. We went to the bank where our accounts are held. We have separate accounts (checking AND saving), but all of our accounts are with the same bank. Good ole' Bank of America. Now, I have to say here that I have been a customer of theirs for a long, long time. I began banking with Bank of America when it was NCNB (North Carolina National Bank) back in the 1980s. There was a brief stint when it was "NationsBank," but that was a short spell between NCNB and BOA. So, naturally my darling husband and I wanted to go to OUR BANK. They "know" us. We're they're customers. We'll get to talk to a real person, face to face. Or, that's what we thought.

It took the Customer Service Representative about three minutes to get a "Mortgage Specialist" on the phone. Then, she asked if we wanted to go into a private room to speak to him. ON THE PHONE. Well, of course we wanted privacy. So, we went into a private office, just dh and me, door closed. No BOA customer service rep. No bank staff of any kind. Just the two of us and the guy on the phone in California.

California for cryin' out loud! He wasn't even on the east coast! Nor was he in the "corporate headquarters" in Charlotte, North Carolina. He was in another time zone! Hrmph!

So, we went through the process. We answered all his questions. We pointed out that we are both long-time customers of the bank. We made sure he understood that this is our primary residence and that I've lived in the house for 24 years. You see, we thought these things were important. Then, he asked to pull our credit scores.

Now, you've gotta know that I was nervous here. I had no idea what my credit score would be. I hadn't been late paying anything in years! So, when he said my credit score was 678, I was elated! For about 30 seconds. My darling husband's score was 718, so that was terrific. But.

But. I needed a 680 to "qualify." Two points. Just two points. I was two points shy of what I needed and it didn't matter one iota that I'd lived in this house for 24 years. It didn't matter a bit that we were long-time Bank of America customers. This guy in California didn't give a shit about any of that. It was all about the two points I DIDN'T HAVE!

Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

Our loan resets in October, so we can't be foolin' around with this. But, boy am I pissed at Bank of America! What about "Customer Loyalty?" Doesn't that have any value? What about the fact that we've paid our interest only loan ON TIME every month for five years? In this economy! What about the re-investment of the money INTO the very house we're trying to re-finance? It's not like we took the cash and went on a two month trip around the world!

I'm pissed because I'm one of the middle income schmucks who bailed this stupid bank out. "Too Big To Fail?" Ha! They're making record profits and all I get is a kick in the teeth for paying my bills on time and doing the right thing.

Well, guess what Bank of America? I don't feel so loyal anymore. You've used my money for years to make money and I don't like being used and abused! Do you think money grows on trees?

AND, what's worse for you ... I have a BIG mouth and I believe the pen is mightier than the sword! So, I'm going to make it my life's mission to tell everyone I know to dump you! Yes, BOA has lots of ATMs, but I suspect that with a little creative thinking, I, middle income schmuck that I am, can come up with a way to live WITHOUT those ATMs! And, once I know how to do it, I'll teach everyone I know to do it too!

People who know me know I don't often get angry. But, when I do, I am relentless. I will live to see the undoing of Bank of America. When a bank (or any other business for that matter) forgets about their customers, it is only a matter of time before they come undone. Business is about the people. It is NOT about the record profits or tightened processes. It's about the people who live and work in the community and SUPPORT the bank. Bank of America might think they're Too Big To Fail, but they're not.

In reality, what they ARE is too big to succeed. This country is a big mess because of the greedy lending practices of this and other banks and it's sad to think we would help them through hard times they wouldn't even TRY to find a way to help us when we seek reciprocity. One day soon, I'll be taking all of my money out of your bank. And, if others follow (as I predict they will), you're gonna be in a heap lot of trouble. But, don't call me. I'm just a middle income schmuck and I, for one, am not bailing out anymore big banks. Let 'em rot!

Whatcha gonna do with all that stuff?

2011-04-25T08:44:00.000-07:00

This year has felt like WHOOOOSH! Moving at warp speed!

When I had THAT birthday in February, I had to take some time to re-evaluate myself and my life. One should do that at least once every decade, don't you think? Now, I'm not the best person when it comes to change. Especially if I have to step outside my comfort zone. I can get cranky and, sometimes, downright unpleasant when things don't go the way I think they should go. So, seeking change for the sake of change isn't really my strong suit. But, seeking change I am!

I've decided it's time to "SIMPLIFY" my life. I have a LOT of stuff. Physical stuff. Stuff I bought. Stuff people gave me. Stuff I inherited. Too much stuff as a matter of fact. Things I've kept for entirely too long for reasons I no longer remember. And, not just at home, either! I've got too much stuff at work. My office? Well, it's been embarassing ... I've never stayed on a job as long as I've been on this one, so I never had the opportunity to accummulate too much stuff on a job ... until now. I'm six years on this job and my office has been the amassing of books and maps, posters and papers, and, of course, Happy Meal toys, and ... well, let's just say I've got lots and lots of stuff in my office, too. And, it all came here, one item at a time. It crept up on me. I do believe it's time for some of the stuff in my office to leave, too.

I googled "too much stuff" and it returned 894,000 items with the words "too much stuff" in the title or body of the article. There's even a web site called http://www.storyofstuff.com/. On NPR's "Fresh Air" is a piece done last year that asks when does 'collecting' cross the line into 'hoarding?' It's a tenuous line, too. And, I'm afraid I may have crossed it. BUT! I didn't stay there. I realized I didn't want to be there and that lead me to adopt a new mantra for this decade: SIMPLIFY.

When I leave this life, I don't want to leave a whole lot of stuff for my kids to deal with. Photo albums? Yes. A favorite bracelet or coveted handbag? Yes. Photographs of my parents and grandparents? Yes. Maybe a few books. And, certainly a few Barbie dolls. But, the rest of it needs to find a new home.

So, I begin the simplification process. If you'd like, you can visit my My Ebay Seller's Page for this week and see what I'm eliminating from my "stuff." I'm auctioning off a doll I bought for my now 24-year-old daughter, along with the fashions and accessories that made playing with a doll so much fun. It was a "new" idea at the time ... in 1992-1993 ... a doll that promoted reading. The dolls did go on to enjoy great success, and eventually Pleasant Company sold out to Mattel and as things always do, they changed. My daughter grew up, turned 11-years-old and lost all interest in dolls. The doll and her goodies went into a plastic bin and into a closet, where she remained until my daughter went to college. I took the bin out, sorted through the items and said to anyone who would listen, "I'll put these things up on ebay." I put the top back on the bin, moved it to a different closet and didn't think about it again until last week when I started cleaning out the closet.

Some people's blogs include a picture a day, a recipe a day, a quote a day ... you get the idea. I'm going to chronicle getting rid of my stuff until next spring. I don't know that it will be every day, but it will be frequent and, sometimes, painful. It's a challenge to myself to not just talk about it or write about it, but to actually DO IT! You're welcome to come along for the ride. Or, not. Suit yourself. You could always go clean out your own closet. I think we all probably have too much stuff.

This time next year, I am promising myself that I won't have as much stuff. That's my mantra: "SIMPLIFY." We'll see if I can keep the promise ...

2011-02-23T10:26:00.000-08:00

Funny how we connect to each other.

I got an e-mail from The Illustrator's Wife which lead me to One Kind Word where I discovered A Simple Conversation. and a new way to think about the word, "dwell."

I've been wrestling with some very serious family issues of late. My last blog entry here was about my first-born daughter and a rift that exists that I do not understand yet. So, when I read today's blog entry at "A Simple Conversation," it helped me to see that all I CAN do is 'not block the door.'

Can I open my heart and allow the things I have no control over to happen without my interference?

Won't they occur anyway, regardless of what I do?

Me thinks they will. Happen, that is.

So I will dwell. I will occupy my home and my heart and let life in.
What have I got to lose at this point?

Mothers and Daughters

2010-11-10T12:00:00.000-08:00

My oldest daughter is 40 years old, but I didn't get to share in the celebration of her birthday in October. She won't let me share anything about her life and I'm really confused about why she's shutting me out.

I remember staying out of touch with my own mother when I was younger. But, it was never for more than a a few weeks at a time. Back then, there was no internet and long-distance phone calls cost 10 cents a minute. For that reason, we wrote letters quite a bit.

I've sent my daughter e-mails that usually go unanswered. I don't have her phone number anymore. I'm not even sure she still lives at the same address. I sent a birthday gift to my 6-year-old granddaughter in August, and my daughter responded by e-mail that "it was perfect" and "you didn't have to." But, what does that mean? Exactly?

My daughter's oldest daughter, now 18, has been a part of my life for the better part of the past two years because my daughter's second husband was charged with a "lewd and lascivious act against a minor," (my granddaughter). She lived with her father for a brief period following this event, but he had a tough time dealing with her. So, she came to stay with me.

The legal case was resolved a long time ago. I thought, "Just let some time go by and we can find our way back to each other." But, that hasn't happened.

My daughter has two other children besides my 18-year-old granddaughter. The 6-year-old granddaughter I mentioned earlier, and my only grandson who is 8-years old. The photo, above, I lifted off of my daughter's facebook page (and we're NOT "friends"). The two children are visiting with their other grandmother in Nicaragua last July. I look at it often and yearn to hug them and find out what kind of wonderful people they are growing into. I know I'm missing a lot because I'm not a part of their lives. But, what can I do? Should I just show up at her house where she used to live hoping she still lives there? Or, should I mind my own business and be patient and wait for her to let me back into her life and the lives of her children?

I honestly don't know ...

Langley Family Reunion Photos

2010-11-05T10:58:00.001-07:00

I made this back during the summer, then promptly forgot about it. I've been cleaning out my mailbox and stumbled on it again ... So, I'm posting it here so it won't be lost again!

Langley Family Reunion Photos

View more presentations from Constance Ruppender.

Summertime Memories

2010-08-05T13:17:00.000-07:00

Vicki, over at Simply Hue asked in her August 4 blog post, "What are a few (or even just one) of your favorite Summertime Memories growing up?" Which inspired me to look at photos I've taken on summer vacations to the places where I grew up ... North Carolina and Virginia.

Vollis Simpson's been making whirly gigs a very long time. I remember one he made that sat next to his machine shop when I was about 12-years-old. My brother and I would hound our dad to drive by it! Little did I know it was the beginning of something. When I took my darling husband "home" to Lucama, NC, for a family reunion in 2007, I asked if it was still there and one of my cousins said, "Yes. And, a whole lot more!" So, we found Vollis Shop Road and Wiggins Mill Road and, Oh! My! Goodness! What a feast for the senses! We spent a couple of hours visiting and I shot a couple hundred pictures, and, when Vollis himself arrived, we negotiated for one of his smaller whirly gigs to take home to remind me of my childhood.

I was born in Hopewell, VA, a little mill town located along the James River, and in the summertime, my dad would take me and my brother out along Highway 10 to this place to find relief from the heat. In 2009, I took my darling husband to Hopewell for the first time, and I couldn't stop babbling about this place, as it remains one of my favorite, summertime memories of my dad when I was a child. The shade of the trees, the stream fed by an artesian well, cool and clear ... these were the real treasures of childhood. We'd share baloney sandwiches and just hang out together, oblivious to the rest of the world. To my amazement, we found it is still a beautiful place (probably because it's hidden away) and seems untouched by time. Lucky me, huh?

Changing with the times ...

2010-06-29T10:02:00.000-07:00

One thing is certain about life on the Internet: it changes at the speed of light. I've been tooling around cyberspace for about 15 years now, and whenever I think about it, I find myself stunned at the rate of change here. I don't think THIS was what they had in mind when I was studying calculus in college!

Today I decided to create a new blog header. I had some free time on my hands and started fooling around in Photoshop. While I liked my old header with the 'vintage' photos of me and pictures of cameras, I think my blog reflects the changes I'm experiencing in my life. Some changes go with the aging process. Some accompany the rapid changes in technology. I can post to my blog from my 'smart phone,' and that's a feature that wasn't available to me when I began this blog more than two years ago. But, those aren't the only reasons for changing it. A big part of it is staying "fresh." Same ole, same ole gets old after a while, so I'm introducing something new.

For my cherished followers, I hope you'll like what I've done. And, I hope you'll leave a comment and let me know if you do. Or, don't. I don't do this to please you, but I enjoy it when you notice what I've done.

Like everyone else out here in cyberspace, I'm looking to connect. How else can I leave my mark on the world?

Photo, above: University Drive & Stirling Road ... one of the last remaining cow pastures, some cattle herons and lots of traffic. I can remember when everything out here was agriculture. Now it's all residential development and shopping centers. "The times, they are a changing!"

My contest entry ...

2010-06-25T13:10:00.000-07:00

Me and Samantha, 1989

I love to write.
Sometimes I have to toil to get the words out. And, sometimes they just spill out of me. When they're spilling, I'm grateful that I took typing in high school!

Last week, I wrote a story and entered it into MORE Magazine's "One Amazing Thing" contest. I did submit a story last summer, which the MORE editors posted to the web site, and that was kind of neat. (It's here.) But, this contest ... well ... I really want to win.

I've posted it on Twitter and Facebook quite a bit in my attempts to get someone ... anyone ... to read it and vote for it. I e-mailed it to a bunch of my women friends and asked them to vote and some of them have voted. I think the "registering" part is what spooks people, though. They're afraid they're going to receive lots of e-mail or spam as a consequence of registering. They won't, and I tell 'em that. But, still, they don't vote.

So, here I am, five days from the close of the contest and I've moved up to No. 31 with 15 votes. In order to qualify I need to be in the Top 25. From those 25 entries, the editors of MORE will chose one winner and that lucky person will have a one-hour phone consultation with Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, the author of "One Amazing Thing," described by MORE's web site as a "breathtaking tale of survival." The winning writer will then expand her story to 1600 words to be posted on MORE's web site and, maybe, Barnes & Noble's web site. That's it. No prize money. Just an opportunity.

The current top entries are about cancer survivors, a night at the Emmys, saving a life, raising a child ... things that are uplifting and wonderful. My story isn't quite so "warm and fuzzy." It's brutal. It's honest. And, it took me 22 years to write.

Friends who have read the story have written messages or told me to my face that they are so glad to know how I turned out. If I win, it would give others a chance to find out WHY that experience was, truly, 'one amazing thing 'for me. It really did change the course of my life forever. And, I'm sure no one will be disappointed how it ends.

It may not be pretty, but it was amazing to live through.
Cross your fingers. And, if you haven't already, go read it and vote.
You'll never be sorry you did.
I promise.

Creativity Run Amok: President's Day Project

2010-02-18T10:07:00.000-08:00

I met "Alpaca Granny" through her blog http://northstaralpacas.blogspot.com/ and enjoyed reading about the daily challenges of a retired school teacher turned alpaca farmer. Eventually I was lead to her etsy shop, North Star Alpacas, where I couldn't resist making a purchase of 104 yards of hand dyed, hand spun Alpaca Merino Mohair yarn from Indy, the alpaca pictured below!

When the yarn arrived, I was in love with it. It came packaged in a glassine envelope with a lavender sachet tucked inside and a tag with Indy's photo on it and a complete product description. It wasn't a lot of thread, so whatever I was going to make with it would have to be inspired. I put it in my yarn basket and over the past year I have taken it out every now and again and felt the texture, inhaling the lavender, wishing for creative inspiration.

Then, President's Day 2010 arrived. I had the day off from work and bemoaned the continued chilly weather we've been experiencing here in sunny, south Florida. I do so love to work in the yard, but that wasn't an option this holiday. The weather report said it was going to be cold all week, with night time lows in the 40s. And, that, my dear reader, is "unseasonably cold" by Florida standards. And, it was this that inspired me to use the beautiful hand dyed, hand spun thread I'd purchased. I was guessing when I started crocheting ... some might call it "designing." I had no pattern; just my knowledge of crochet to guide me. I used a size N hook, something I'd never done before! My! But, it's a big hook! By Tuesday morning, when I'd finished my coffee, I had a beautiful neck scarf to keep me warm for the rest of the week!

When I got to the office, I was once again inspired to take photos, and when I saw them on the computer screen, I knew they belonged in my blog! This beautiful scarf is excellent at keeping the back of my neck warm in the harsh winter wind. And, the knowledge of where the fur came from combined with knowing who dyed it and spun it into thread for me makes my creative spirit feel warm as well.

Now, it's nearing the end of the week and the meteorologists are saying we'll see temperatures in the 70s by Saturday. Meanwhile, I'm enjoying my hand dyed, hand spun, hand crocheted scarf! Ah! The joy of creativity! Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!

Creativity Run Amok, Part 3: Valentines

2010-02-11T13:13:00.000-08:00

I occasionally open the HP News & Notes email message I receive along with the numerous other artsy messages of interest that arrive in my mailbox every day. The words, "Make Your Own Valentine" in the subject line last week inspired me to read on. After scouring through the do-it-yourself cards, I found a border I could use that allowed me to import my own photos and choose the color I liked, so ... I created a photo collage of my darling husband. This lovely man endures my constant picture taking of everything from the food we eat to the neighbor's dogs, with fashion doll shoots and nature adventures in-between, so I thought it apropo to share all the wonderful shots I've captured of him over the past few years.

After printing it out, I typed tags and messages and printed them on vellum bristol, cut them out and glued them here and there. Liking what I'd done (and, I am very hard to please!), I headed to Target to find a suitable frame and some Valentine paper in which to wrap it.

I'm sort of impressed with myself. Now I wonder if dh will be impressed with his Valentine gift. Do you think he'll see how loved he is? He surely is!

I'm out of time today, so I'll wrap it up tomorrow in this heart-felt tissue and make a Valentine card! What fun!!!

Stay tuned!

Creativity Run Amok, Part 2

2010-02-10T12:59:00.000-08:00

I picked up a copy of Where Women Create last week, having become a big fan since it began publication, and looking at all those lovely work spaces inspired me to clean off my desk! My darling husband and I share this space and he thought I was coming down with something when he saw me filing and putting things in the trash. I was so impressed with my work, I took pictures. So, here you are ... (drum roll, please) ... where this woman creates!

I haven't seen the mouse pad since last summer!

I love dolls, but I only have one Riley Kish, so she and her little bears keep me company and guide me through my many creative endeavors.

Old pens, a tiny ceramic kewpie and a refrigerator magnet of the first nude male centerfold in Cosmopolitan fill a little dish I inherited from Viele House. (I wonder how old Burt is now?)

Things look so tidy and now I can see where some of my arts and crafts supplies are, which is simply lovely! I am keeping my New Year's resolution to nurture my creativity!

Do I have enough writing tools??

One of the "commissioners" at my job is a creative spirit, too, and last year she gave me this lovely gift of photos that spell out "IMAGINE." I hung it over the door so I can sit in my chair at my desk and "imagine" what I'll do next! Thanks to Judy for such a great gift!

And, thanks to you, dear reader, for letting me share my home office space with you! Now, I'm off to create something!

2010-02-02T12:45:00.000-08:00

That Betsey Johnson Dress ...

The photo above was taken in 1994 at a fundraising party for a little theatre company we were all involved with. It was also the "debut" of my new thrift shop dress from a little vintage clothing store next door to the theatre's office on 26th Street. (I'm the one on the left.) The dress tag said "Alley Cat by Betsey Johnson" and, at the time, I thought, "How cool. A 'designer' dress without the designer price!" I didn't have a lot of money, but I had (and still have) a passion for fashion! I loved the dress because it a) looked good on me, b) felt good on and c) was machine washable. I wore it a lot. I wore it to weddings, funerals, at Christmas and for a lot of different social events. It was my favorite dress for quite a few years.

A few years ago, when middle age took over my body, the dress didn't fit the same and rather than embarrass myself, I hung it up and have debated so many times since then what I should do with it. I told myself that someday I would once again control my body, but in all honesty, that's easier said than done when you reach this stage in life. Those hormones that we ladies lose are incredibly helpful in helping us to keep our figures. Without them ... well ... let's just say the dress continued to hang in my closet.

Last week, while waiting for the clothes dryer to finish, I was rifling through a box of photos from those days with the theatre. When I found this photo (and a few others), I scanned it and put it up on my facebook page in a photo album I created there for the theatre. The other two women in the picture commented, as did a young woman who is in my Jazzercise class. She loved the dress, too! And, so ...

I brought the dress (and its accessory necklace) to her at Jazzercise class and said, "Try it on!"

As you can see in the photo, she looks stunning in it! And, I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to see the dress go on! It's a marvelous garment with that flattering sweetheart neckline and a full skirt that is forgiving --- it's perfect for all sorts of occasions and great for travel! I'm thrilled that it's found a good home and I found I was inspired to do a little research about the designer ...

Back in 1970, Betsey Johnson was working for a place called Paraphernalia and she left her job there because the store was expanding and she didn't want to lose control over the design process. From what I could find in my Internet search, she designed for Alley Cat, a junior sportswear company, from 1970 until 1976. She had full creative control at Alley Cat, designing everything from the textiles used in her designs to the accompanying shoes. Alley Cat clothing was always priced under $100, making it within reach of the junior market and, in retrospect, I think this may have been a key marketing ingredient for her future success. She was creating clothes for baby boomers, a huge demographic that was only just beginning to make its presence felt in the world of commerce.

She also worked with Butterick patterns to produce a line of eight Betsey Johnson for Alley Cat patterns, making her designs affordable to small town girls like me. Back in the 1970s, I became familiar with her clothes because of her patterns. I still have an apron pattern of hers in my sewing box along with some great Vogue patterns from that era!

While I've found a new home for my vintage Betsey Johnson dress, she's still very much a part of my fashion passion. I have a couple of her handbags, several bracelets and necklaces and a beautiful skirt I found on sale at the Betsey Johnson store in Aventura. I would love it if she would create patterns again. Especially for my generation. Her clothes flatter nearly every body type (including us more "mature" figures) and because she was a dancer, she brings all the fun of dance costumes to everyday clothes.

Special thanks to Jean for loving my dress! Wear it in good health!

2010-01-11T12:36:00.000-08:00

Un-decorating ...
I love the entire process of decorating for Christmas. Getting all the ornaments out of their boxes and putting them on the tree is as much fun as seeing the tree when I come home. This year I decided to use some of my Barbie ornaments and, sure enough, they were delightful to behold once the tree was done. The photo below is of my current favorite ... "Lighter Than Air Barbie," one of the ballet dolls inspired by Degas' art. She's made of porcelain and is truly as fragile as she appears. But, she's so very pretty ...

Below is this year's tree from the perspective of the floor. I also love my nutcracker on the coffee table, so I had to be sure he was included in the picture. Oh! How I love Christmas twinkle lights! I think we should have twinkle lights all year round, don't you?

Then, there's my little ceramic village on the fireplace mantle. Now, these cheesy little ceramic houses cost one dollar each at the local Walgreens and CVS Pharmacy and I've bought some every year for three Christmases now. Needless to say, I have more of them than will fit on my mantle, but, Hey! Who cares? I crammed as many of them on there as I could and enjoyed arranging and rearranging them for about three days.

I've decided that in order to continue cultivating my creative spirit I will have to leave them on the mantle until this Arctic Express we've been experiencing is gone. When the temperature is 75 degrees for three consecutive days, then I'll pack them up! So, there!

I guess it'll soon be time to drag out the St. Valentine's decorations, huh?

2010-01-07T12:07:00.000-08:00

Creativity run amok!

I was browsing blogs on Monday, January 4, hoping I might find some way to cultivate my New Year's resolution to be more creative and I stumbled on a blog that showed a calendar similar to the one I've started in the photo here. I was so inspired by it, yet I forgot to bookmark the blog. So! An apology is in order, but I don't know who to send it to! Whoever that artist is: THANKS A MILLION ZILLION! I'm really digging the daily 5 minutes to work on my calendar. It's definitely helping to cultivate my creativity!!

And, as if that weren't enough! With all this cold weather and sitting by the fireplace with its burning embers each evening, I've been crocheting granny squares from this wonderful Lion Brand Homespun (http://www.lionbrand.com/) yarn I picked up on clearance last year! I have enough for an afghan, so an afghan I'll make! I haven't crocheted an afghan in years! Oh! What fun it is to sit by the fire and crochet! The meteorologists are saying we're going to get yet another blast of Arctic air tomorrow, so, at this rate, I'll have it done in no time! Or, at least by spring!

2010-01-05T12:54:00.000-08:00

Creativity Twenty Ten

Creativity. What a concept!
It took a fair amount of contemplation, but I've decided that my New Year's Resolution is to cultivate my own creativity and to write about it here, on my blog, which I don't think anyone reads. That said, I can write whatever I want, post whatever pictures I choose and just have a good ole' time with my creative spirit!
Wish me luck!

2009-12-31T08:12:00.001-08:00

The sun sets on the first decade of the new century ...

What a year it's been, huh? The plane that landed safely in the river in New York, the death of Michael Jackson, an unsuccessful attempt at terrorism on Christmas Day. These are just a few of the things that made headlines.

On the personal front, my youngest child graduated from college and my granddaughter graduated from high school. Those, my friend, are fine accomplishments for anyone! And, yes, I'm proud of them. Good parenting helped, but they did the work themselves ... my legacy to the world!

Happy New Year to whoever out there reads these posts!

3 days to Christmas

2009-12-21T07:22:00.000-08:00

It's cold in sunny, south Florida today and it's not supposed to warm up until tomorrow.
50-something degrees is cold when you consider it's been in the 80s since last April! Brrrr!

I have managed to make two Christmas purchases online, but I've got to find a couple of hours to go shopping for a few gifts for my family people! Life has been far too occupied with the kids' issues. Especially the graduation problem with my daughter. I simply haven't had much time to think about Christmas. I only just added ornaments to the tree last night, and it's been up with the lights on it since Thanksgiving weekend!

My baby girl, who is now 22, walked across the stage at her college on Friday night, December 11 in her graduation ceremony. This followed four years and three months of classes with only her final grades remaining to determine the final outcome --- receiving her Bachelors degree. She flunked an aerobics course during her sophomore year because she couldn't get to class on time. The class started at 9 AM and my child is definitely not a morning person. Aside from that one incident, her entire college career reflects a history of passing grades ... "A"s and "B"s and C"s. But no more "F"s since aerobics.

The Monday following the graduation ceremony (December 14), she was devasted to learn she had received an "F" on her advertising course. She could not get her marketing degree without this course! And, she had already walked across the stage. Her family had traveled 700 miles to watch her. There was a lot at stake here. So, I am not exaggerating when I say she was "devasted." She was sobbing into the phone, and, as any mother would be, I was frustrated because I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't know what to do. First, I had to calm her down. Then, I had to find out what happened.

It's been one week since this happened and it's been an emotional roller coaster ride. When she wasn't crying she was seeking a way to solve this academic crisis. Her friends told her to fight. I asked her if she was willing to fight for it. When she responded, "Yes," then I told her she had to do whatever it took to make this right.

She has talked to the professor and the professor is now claiming my daughter violated the school's code of ethics. Now I am outraged!

My "graduate" has always been brutally honest about everything and I've never known her to cheat, lie or steal for any reason. For her to be accused of an ethical violation isn't in keeping with her character. The "crime" she committed doesn't deserve this punishment. But, how do I, as a parent, pursuade the school to see that the teacher is the one who didn't perform her job well? There are some inconsistencies in the professor's reasoning and I'm determine to find a way to reveal these discriminations ... and, with any luck (and, perhaps, the hand of God) I can help my girl get the justice she deserves. Yes, she made a mistake. She admits that. But, do you give a life sentence to someone for stealing a candy bar from the corner store? NO! You do not! The punishment should fit the crime.

New Shoes for the College Graduate!

2009-12-02T06:47:00.000-08:00

My darling daughter was home over Thanksgiving and asked if I would buy her new shoes for graduation, which is only eight days away. How could I say no? One pair is for the ceremony. The other pair is for the partying she will do after the ceremony.

I'll let you guess which is which!

They sure are pretty, aren't they?

Food & Fun with Friends

2009-11-13T12:43:00.001-08:00

Artichoke salad and fresh baked bread were our offerings Saturday night for a friendly game of Bunco at Vera's house. My darling husband and I get great joy playing bunco. It's a simple dice game that even the children can play and with all the moving about, you get to visit with everyone before the night is done! Naturally I ate and drank too much because everything was so good, and it was worth it. I didn't win a prize but I had a great time! DH did, too!

Thriller Dancing & Roses

2009-11-06T12:23:00.000-08:00

I have been attending Jazzercise classes three times a week for the past two years. I began taking the classes because I was diagnosed with osteopenia and needed to add high impact exercise to my regimen in order to build bone density. I had been taking ballet classes for years, but they were no longer enough to keep my bones strong.

As luck would have it, I hit the jackpot with the Jazzercise instructor, Darlene, and the people in the class! Many of them have been her students for five or more years and there's a real sense of community among this group of people. They were most welcoming to me when I was "new" to the group and I have thrived working with them. That said, I have a little story about these roses ...

Every now and then, during the stretching portion of class, Darlene will invite people to go around the room and "share something." Births and deaths, new jobs and promotions, health achievements and diet successes are just a few of the things my classmates have been known to share. So, one Saturday in August, I had something to share ... I told the class that I wanted to learn how to do the Thriller Dance and asked if anyone else was interested in learning it. If so, I offered to find a way to learn and teach the dance and, perhaps, if we mastered it, we could perform it during class on Halloween (which just happened to fall on a Saturday this year).

There were nine people interested in learning the dance, so after doing some online research, I found lessons on YouTube that were perfect for us, and throughout the weeks of September and October, we met every Monday and Thursday evening for half an hour before class and plowed our way through those lessons, learning the dance.

On Saturday, October 31, we came dressed as zombies, with full makeup ... the works. And, right after the aerobics section of class and right before strength building, the door began to creak, people moved off the floor, the beat of the music commenced and ... WE DANCED! All six minutes and 12 seconds of the song, we did the Zombie March, March Booty Swim, Hip 'n Roar and Wuz Up that make up the Thriller Dance!

The class broke into spontaneous applause a couple of times during the dance and then they just roared when we were done! I don't know that we were "great," but we were in sync with each other, we didn't miss a step and we made it all the way through. And, that, my friends, is quite an accomplishment!

I had brought a camcorder to capture those 6:12, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Darlene giving a rose to each dancer. Then I turned around and she was handing me this big bouquet! And, the picture, above ... that's how they looked on Sunday after Halloween ... All Saint's Day ... the beautiful blooms lit up my house and their fragrance reminded me how lucky I am to have so many people in my life who share my joy!

We're going to continue practicing throughout the coming year so we don't forget the moves, and we're hoping others will join us for next year. We have a name, too, thanks to Darlene! We are The Thriller-ettes!

We've had so much fun doing this! I can't wait until we get to do it again!

09.07.09

2009-09-18T08:37:00.001-07:00

09.07.09, originally uploaded by Corey Holms.

I shot a photograph out on Krome Avenue of a boot, buried in the ground near an area where target practice had been going on a day or two before I was there with my camera. This photo reminds me of that one. The barren land, just rocks and sand, and the desolate loneliness of the child's hand puppet, like my boot, seem to be cries of isolation from the rest of the world.

21 Slash Pines vs. LGBT-exclusive hotel

2009-08-11T11:59:00.000-07:00

I've been privileged to serve on my local Planning & Zoning Board for three years now, and I get a real sense of contributing to my community by participating in this kind of public service. However, I do have conflicts now and again, trying to do what's right for the people and now is one of those times.

We are reviewing the plans for a redevelopment project on six acres along the Florida East Coast Railway. The project, The G Resort, is an "exclusive" hotel/time share for the gay and lesbian community. Now, I live in Wilton Manors, the No. 6 Destination within the U.S. for the LGBT market and we have no other hotel, so this would be a real boon to the City's tax revenue and to the local business community.

However. There are 21 slash pines estimated to be 60+ years old and they would have to be removed to complete the project according to the plans currently under consideration. A native specimen, slash pines are protected trees in Florida, so the developers will be required to get a permit to remove them and then they'll be required to "mitigate." You see, unlike live oaks and gumbo limbos, slash pines don't relocate well. They actually don't relocate at all. They have very sensitive root systems and don't transfer successfully.

Someone please tell me! How do you "mitigate" for 21 beautiful Florida trees? Why don't they build around them? Don't they know that these slash pines are exclusive to south Florida and are the main component of the pine flatwoods ecosystem found here? This southern variety of the slash pine is also known as the Dade County pine. The unusually dense and relatively sap free wood was commonly used by the early settlers of Dade County to build their log cabins. The 1912 Viele House in Davie was built of this wood and stands strong today, almost a hundred years later.

Would it cost any more to save some of these trees than making that silly "lazy river" that's on the plans? These trees are the epitome of "old Florida" and the developers don't seem to have given a second thought to just killing them! I just don't understand ... (scratches head)

Regardless of what your sexual orientation is, wouldn't you just love to sit on a comfortable chair beneath these tall, shady trees and sip a cool drink and listen to the sounds of finches, mockingbirds, cardinals and orioles? Wouldn't that be a lovely experience to have? Now, that would be worth something ...

Happy Marriage ...

2009-08-10T09:33:00.000-07:00

Photo: Odd Molly Interior

Trouble in paradise ...

It goes something like this.

Two people are walking along the street, window shopping and enjoying a balmy Saturday afternoon. Suddenly they are confronted with a man beating a woman. The woman is on the ground, the man on top of her, hitting her in the face with his fist. One of the people looks up and down the street to see if it's safe to cross to the other side. The other one runs over and jumps on the man's back, yelling at him to "Stop! Stop!"

What kind of marriage would it be if the two people walking down the street were married to each other?

2009-07-30T11:33:00.000-07:00

My story (below, "True Confessions") has been published on More Magazine's web site!

Now, that doesn't happen to me everyday, so I have to comment and post the link! Don't I?

http://www.more.com/4879/6317-true-confessions

True Confessions

2009-07-10T11:47:00.000-07:00

June 26, 2009 – Michael Jackson died yesterday. Samantha called as we were driving southbound on I-95 through South Carolina to tell us. We’re on our way home from a week-long vacation in Virginia (for a family reunion) and the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

When we checked into a Motel 6 last night and turned on the TV, sure enough, it was everywhere. CNN, BBC, ABC, NBC, CBS, FOX. It reminded me of the death of Princess Diana so long ago … what a memorable ending to our summer vacation …

~ o ~

Visiting with Aunt Evelyn in Virginia,
on Sunday, June 21st, she told this story ...

Blanche was the fifth of eight girls and she was always Daddy’s favorite. We all knew she was Daddy’s favorite, too. She was tallest at five feet ten inches. She was prettiest with auburn hair and hazel eyes while the rest of us had plain brown hair and eyes. And, she was always the smartest. You could tell after just a few minutes of conversation with her how intelligent she was. She knew things no one else seemed to know even though she’d never been to college. Although I don’t remember her as a book worm, I remember she loved to read. She read magazines and newspapers and trashy novels (when Mama wasn’t looking) as well as classics like “Jane Eyre.” And, she loved “Gone With The Wind.”

She had great style. It never mattered what she wore, from slacks and flats to a dress and heels; she knew how to accessorize and she did it splendidly and on a very small budget. I remember one time she came to my apartment when I first married and, as we talked, she moved a lamp from one table to another and a pillow from the sofa to a chair and the place looked better somehow. That’s what I mean about her having style. Every place she ever lived was nice, even if it was just an efficiency apartment. And, every outfit she ever wore was well put together, like in a fashion magazine.

I was the number six sister and Blanche was my best friend as well as my favorite sister. She taught me how to dance when I was eleven years old … the waltz, the fox trot and the jitterbug … and even though she was tall, she was the most graceful woman I ever knew.

Our father was a lot older than he let on. Mama was his fifth wife and it wasn’t until his final days that we learned how old he really was. You see, they didn’t keep track of birth dates then as they do now, so he was able to get away with lying about his age. He came from Naples, Italy around 1905-1906 as a young man and we think that was when he changed his age. When he died in 1957, the doctor said he was at least a hundred years old. I traced our family tree in the 1970s and learned that he was really closer to 110. He was about forty years older than Mama.

You might ask how I know Blanche was Daddy’s favorite child. Well, it had to do with his car. When I was 12 and Blanche was 15, Daddy let her drive his car. I remember, because I got to ride in the back seat. He never, ever let anyone else drive his car. Our older sisters still living at home at the time, Marguerite, Lillian and Doris, were never permitted to drive Daddy’s car. But, Blanche was allowed. She was allowed to do a lot of things that the rest of us never were. Which leads me to tell you this …

When Blanche was 16-years-old, Mama sent her away to a catholic convent somewhere in North or South Carolina. She sent her away because Blanche was pregnant. She gave birth to a boy and I never knew what happened to him.

I was almost 13 at the time this was happening and I didn’t really understand what was going on. But, I knew that Mama was making a mistake sending Blanche away. And, for the first time in my life I talked back to my mother and told her what she was doing was wrong. I got my face slapped more than once for “talking back.” Of course, she didn’t listen to me. I was young and naïve and I adored by older sister. Yet, I knew what Mama was doing was wrong, wrong, wrong! And, I knew it would change my sister forever. And, it did.

When Blanche came back, she was almost eighteen and she was changed. She wasn’t the free spirited sister who taught me how to jitterbug. She was quieter and seemed more serious about everything. We remained close throughout her life, but she was never the same. And, neither she nor Mama ever spoke about it again.

Mama, on their wedding day, 1949

Blanche met George when he was stationed at Fort Lee. He was a real handsome guy in his thirties and all of us girls had a crush on him. He was quiet and I guess some would say he was introverted. He was very intelligent … even smarter than Blanche. He was the cousin of another handsome soldier that we had known for a while from dancing at the local USO hall, JT. George took a real shine to Blanche. I don’t know if she ever told him about the baby. Like I said; she never spoke of it again, not to me and not to any of my other sisters or Mama.

Daddy, on their wedding day, 1949

After they married, Blanche was eager to start a family. She had you almost two years after their wedding, but she really wanted a son. And, she did finally have a son when you were just two. But he lived just three weeks and he died in his mother’s arms. Then, they adopted Jimmy. I never understood the way your mother treated you and Jimmy. He could do whatever he wanted and she acted as if he were a little prince. You? I can’t tell you how many times I stopped her from beating you when you were a little girl. She seemed to hate you at times. Maybe it was because of your dad, George. He had a lot of problems, for sure, but he always had time for you. I don’t know if you will remember, but he took you with him many times and left Jimmy with your mom. I think he did it to protect you. And, maybe she was jealous of that. He had another son with another woman in Wilmington before he knew your mother, and maybe she felt like she had to compete with that child and his mother. For you, there was no competition. You were the only girl.

The night you were born, Dr. Phipps came into the waiting room to talk to your dad and he told him that your mother was doing fine and he had a baby girl. All George said was, “Well, at least she won’t have to go to war.” It wasn’t too long after your birth that he left the army with an honorable discharge and joined the Hopewell police force. I think he was worried he’d get sent away and didn’t want to leave you. If you look at the photos your mother took of you as a baby with your dad, you can see he adored you. I wouldn’t be surprised if your mother was jealous of that, too.

I don’t know how you grew up to be as sensible and stable as you are. I was amazed that you made it through high school with all that happened with your mom and dad. I’ve wanted to tell you about this for a long time, but I didn’t know if you could handle it. I hope you can handle it now.

2009-06-05T09:17:00.001-07:00

I've been taking quite a few photographs here lately. Just thought I'd share a few favorites ...

My darling husband and I drove out the Tamiami Trail for the first time ever. Neither of us had ever been there (after 30+ years of living here!) and following our adventures in the Redlands the week before, we decided it was time. The Tamiami Trail, for those who don't know, is a road that cuts east-west across the southern tip of the Florida Peninsula. It cuts right through Big Cypress National Preserve in the heart of the southern Everglades. It's so far out there, as a matter of fact, that there's no cell phone signal. When you get out there, you are definitely way out in no man's land.

I shot over 200 pictures, but this one is my favorite so far. It's a lonely little flower peeking out of the sawgrass plains along the side of the road.

I attended an Everglades Working Group meeting at Long Key Nature Center and as I was leaving the building I noticed this tree. I once worked for a flower shop and we often used tree fern to fill in flower arrangements. This tree, however, made me think differently about "tree fern." Isn't nature interesting?

Here's my guy, Boris A. Flufoshinski, aka "Mr. Fluffy." He is the boss of our neighborhood! All the other cats watch him carefully and stay out of his way because they know he's trouble! Mr. Fluffy is going to be 17-years-old in the fall. He came tumbling out of a cardboard box at Christmas when my daughter was five and he's been the boss of us ever since! This is his favorite nap spot, as he likes to have a pillow to prop his head up! And, he always snoozes on my side of the bed, though I couldn't tell you why this is ...

Time for a litte fun stuff ...

2009-05-15T08:34:00.000-07:00

Here's my first crochet project for my beloved Barbie doll. There is a crochet thread on the Barbie Fan Club Bulletin Board and patterns are shared among members. This turned out so much better than I imagined it would. After all, I hadn't done any crocheting in years!

Then, I found a dress pattern on the BFC board and crocheted it in white. I hadn't planned on it being usable. I figured I'd make all the mistakes so I could make a "real" one. Ha! It turned out quite grand, don't you think? I'm thinking about adding a crocheted flower and maybe a wide belt ... and, then ...

... these beautiful colors are for a color block dress pattern for Barbie that I recently found!

I had forgotten how much fun this could be!

Where have you been?

2009-05-14T09:33:00.001-07:00

Jeez! But, it's been too long since I was last here. What's going on with that, huh?

Well. They call it life.

My granddaughter lives with me for almost a year now and she occupies a good bit of my time and attention, as does my darling husband. Housekeeping, making certain that there's food in the house, laundry, gardening, auto maintenance ... these seem to be the only things I do lately. And, I hate it! I deplore not having time for art or for taking pictures or for giving my dog a bath or for taking naps or for writing ... Why does life have to be like this? Why can't I just have a little, tiny, teeny bit of time just for me, to do what I want to do? There just doesn't seem to be much time for the "fun stuff" these days ...

I thought it was supposed to get easier as I got older? What happened?

2009-04-03T12:53:00.000-07:00

I've never posted my "art" before. Oh, sure, I've posted my photographs. I posted this one last year, right after it was taken. But I've never posted any of my scrapping or journaling stuff. Until now, that is.

I've studied on this photo a fair amount, because the sky doesn't show up in the photo, but it is clearly reflected in the water on the ground. The water was from the fire fighters hoses. I made this shot just hours after the fire was put out. The building was torn down a week later. I still can't get over how quickly it was gone!

The book page is from a book by Ogden Nash called "Hard Lines." It's an old book of poetry I picked up in a book store that specializes in old books. This book cost $6, so I didn't feel to bad tearing a page out. I cut out the letters and added some paper, trying to follow my artist friend, Janet's, theory on "design."

Now, I'll wait and see if anyone comments. I've never claimed to be an artist. But, I've always wished I was one.

2009-03-25T11:41:00.000-07:00

Not quite the owl and the pussycat ...

This lovely mourning dove was perched on the side of the birdbath yesterday afternoon and I just happened to have my camera in my hand. I remarked to my darling husband, "What a pretty dove." It was clearly a young bird and, even though I was standing just four feet away, it didn't fly off as these doves usually do. I shot a dozen pictures and then, this morning, when I pulled them up on the computer, there was my cat, Mr. Fluffy, in the background. He had been lying under my car and I didn't notice him when I was shooting. He's very old, so I don't think he gave this little bird much thought. And, then, I was struck by the irony of the photo. A young bird. An old cat. Not your usual bird picture, huh?

Magnum P.I. & The Pompano Shopper

2009-03-11T16:57:00.000-07:00

I came to Fort Lauderdale in October of 1982. We arrived on a Monday, I got a manicure on Tuesday, had a job interview on Wednesday and went to work on Thursday morning. I'd worked for newspapers before, most recently for the Key West Citizen, the "only daily newspaper published in Monroe County." I was good at my job and I knew it, so it was easy to impress the "creative director" with my mastery of the equipment, especially a Compugraphic typesetter they had that, apparently, no one else knew how to use. (And, lest you think me vain, I was not. It was the one thing I knew really well and I knew I knew it really well. It may have been the ONLY thing I knew really well.) So ... I went to work for the Pompano Shopper.

The photograph, above, was taken in December 1982, and I recently found it while rummaging through an old photo album. (I'm the one in the middle holding up two "devil" fingers behind Valerie's head.) Boy! Did it bring back memories! Mostly memories of my relationship with Magnum P.I.

The Pompano Shopper's plant was housed in a warehouse west of a yet undeveloped Sample Road. With 40-foot ceilings to accommodate the web presses, the "Art Department" was located in the northwest corner of the building with a 10-foot drywall around it. The long back wall was a row of artist's desks where each of us composed ad upon ad touting "Sales" and "Lowest Price In Town." There was a regular and rhythmic banter of conversations going on throughout the day among the young women working there. I may have been the oldest at 32, except for our director, Jo Allen, who was in her fifties and her assistant, also 'middle aged.'

The tall wall above my desk served as a display area for my Tom Selleck poster (above). In 1982, "Magnum P.I." was a hot TV show and I considered myself to be a devoted fan, often claiming I would leave my husband for him in a heartbeat!

Every Friday, Jo Allen held a "staff meeting." With so many young women working for her, it was the only way she could maintain control as there were frequently (and, often) "personality clashes." The Friday meetings gave everyone a forum to file complaints and clear the air and, for Jo Allen, keep the peace in the art department. So, at one of these meetings, Jo Allen's assistant, Barbara, who had just returned from a trip to Europe, clutched a large brown envelope and said she had something to share.

So, here we all are, sitting around in a big circle, our attention focused on Barbara as she begins to tell her story of an evening out while she was in London. She and a gentleman friend were having dinner in the White Elephant Restaurant on the Thames River and who should come in and sit down at the table next to her and her friend but Tom Selleck and his agent. MY Tom Selleck!

Knowing how I love him, Barbara said she wanted to approach him, but felt it was just good manners to wait until they had finished their dinner. Which she did. Then, she said, she struck up a conversation with him and introduced herself, telling Tom Selleck, "There's a girl I work with who just absolutely adores you ..." and she said she told him about my poster and my fantacism ...

She went on to talk about how charming he was and very, very nice. And, then she said she asked him if she could get his autograph.

Now, at this point, I am hyperventilating, thinking "Oh! I'm going to get to see his handwriting and touch someone who's touched him!"

Barbara continued, saying she was looking through her bag for something for Tom Selleck to write on when the waiter offered a White Elephant Restaurant menu. She slowly and very deliberately took her time removing the menu from the brown envelope she'd been holding. I remember holding my breath and imagining what it must've been like to sit in an elegant restaurant RIGHT NEXT TO HIM!

She held the creme colored menu up for all of us to see and there, on the front cover, just below a line drawing of an elephant and the type "White Elephant Restaurant" was the signature.
It read:

for Constance

Aloha!

Tom Selleck

I nearly fainted. No one had ever given me such a wonderful gift! I was utterly speechless and that day, Barbara became my best friend!

I left the Pompano Shopper a year later to go work for an ad agency, but to this day, the photograph of us and the menu (which was later stolen; but that's another story) are cherished by me. Wherever you are, Barbara ... Thank You, again!

2009-03-06T09:29:00.001-08:00

One afternoon last week I was stopped in the east bound lane of Broward Boulevard at Andrews Avenue and this gentleman was sitting on the sidewalk looking beleaguered and so alone. NPR was on the car radio discussing the economic crisis and how it was affecting people. Unemployment. Foresclosure. Crime is up. Consumer confidence is down.

So, there I was, in my car at the red light, watching this man and wondering what his story is. And, almost without realizing it, I was reaching for my camera on the seat beside me. I got a half dozen shots off before the light turned green and another week passed before I uploaded my photos to the computer. This shot was the last in that set and I think it speaks volumes for today's economy. God bless this man, whoever he is. (And, I've seen him around since this was taken.) And, God bless America and give us the wisdom and patience to do the right things until things change again ...

My Review

2009-03-02T08:07:00.001-08:00

Chadwick's

Style reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn!

Florida Fashionista south Florida 3/2/2009

Pros: Terrific Value, Great style, Flattering cut, Captures the trend

Cons: Size runs a little small

Best Uses: Add black or white heels, And a cute bag, To make it your own

I have to send back the size 12 and exchange it for a size 14. Cut very narrow through the abdomen.

Audrey Sheath by Chadwicks

: Picture of Product

()

The Veranda in Cooper City

2009-01-21T11:00:00.000-08:00

I had tea yesterday at a wonderful little "tea room" in Cooper City called The Veranda. The tables were laid out with white lace tablecloths, mismatched china and fresh flowers and as the temperature fell outside, it was warm and cozy inside with the most delicious tea I've had in a very long time!

There is a gift shop in the front part of the store where they offer vintage clothes for children and women, silk flowers and lots of victorian ephemera. When the tea was served, the women who run the show there also brought out little finger sandwiches of cucumber and tuna --- absolutely the best tuna I've every had! --- and the most delicious chocolate brownies on the planet!

I will return!

http://verandateaandgifts.net/

a day on earth

2009-01-13T12:58:00.000-08:00

I don't know who made this picture, but it's titled "a day on earth."

Considering that it's a new year, it struck me that it's the perfect picture of my mood. Last year brought many challenges and while I know I cannot control this life, I'm really glad to look forward to this new year rather than back at the sadness and loss of the old one.

Whoever the artist is, thank you for making this picture.

It's quite beautiful ...

2008-12-23T11:17:00.000-08:00

The sky has been cloudy and dark in my world for a while now, but things are starting to lighten up. I haven't posted to my blog since the fire at Osborne's in October. It seemed that things were going from bad to worse. September brought Katie's drowning at Wolf Lake. November brought Lori's son's suicide. I was afraid it was going to get worse, so I didn't write. I guess that's a writer's block of sorts.

It's Christmas Eve eve and I'm feeling a tiny bit optimistic that things may be getting better. I hope this season of "Peace on Earth" applies to my world. God knows I'm ready for some!

Then, there's the New Year. Despite the gloom and doom preached by the economists, I'm blessed to have a secure job with benefits and a salary that allows me to afford my mortgage. My heart breaks for those families going through foreclosure. Many of them bit off more than they could chew, and in many cases, they were manipulated to fail and didn't know it.

I'm also hopeful that our new president will deliver on his promises to make our country better. I do, however, worry that the people who elected him will forget what their responsibility is in all this. It really is up to us to hold Washington accountable for the choices they make and the actions they take. It is a time for change which will require that all of us work very hard and watch out for each other if we're to make it happen!

Someone once said that "there is no key to happiness. The door is always open." I think that's true. Very true. And, my Christmas wish is that others will know that, too!

2008-10-14T12:58:00.000-07:00

The north side entrance, where customers parked
and entered Osborne's.

The back of the building.
A fire fighter chased me back behind the yellow line.

Osborne's Hardware Store caught on fire last week
and this is all that's left.

It's kind of hard to imagine downtown Davie without Osborne's. And, that's just what we said two years ago when they closed down. The family still owns the property, but they moved the store to New Smyrna Beach. They couldn't take the overcrowded highways and impersonal attitudes of the people who were moving into the area. Which is totally understandable.

This is a family that opened their business in the 1950s during a time when there wasn't much more in Davie than their hardware business, a grocery store, a couple of offices, a feed store and a multitude of orange packing houses and dairy farms. In that era of south Florida's development, traveling from Fort Lauderdale to Davie was a day long trip. It was a different time and Davie was a different place.

I know the Osborne's. Cindy Osborne and her husband opened the business way back when. Her daughter, Cindy Lou, ran it up until the time it closed and she was assisted by her daughter, Kimberly. They offered all manner of hardware and specialized in those things you couldn't find at Home Depot or Lowe's.

I know things change. But, do they have to change like this?

2008-10-03T08:00:00.000-07:00

Katie & Mike at the Key West Conference, July 2007

Mike & Katy, one afternoon last winter.

She was all dressed up, looking so pretty!

Mike & Katy --- Katy was the best Teddy, the Turtle, I ever had!

Last week was one of the longest weeks of my life. I know it sounds harsh, but it’s the truth: it was a week of death.

It started on Saturday, September 20. I got a phone call at home that my boss’s 19-year-old daughter had drowned. To say it was a shock is truly an understatement. It blew my mind. The first thing I did after that phone call ended was to call my own 21-year-old daughter at college and make sure she was alright. She was fine and I counted my blessings.

Monday, the 22nd was the twentieth anniversary of a life-altering experience. On that day in 1988 my beloved husband stabbed a young man because he thought the boy was my lover. He wasn’t. He was a friend of my then-18-year-old daughter.

The police took my husband away to jail and emergency medical technicians took the boy to Broward General where they misdiagnosed his three stab wounds. By the time they discovered their mistake, the boy was brain dead. In Florida, the law required he be connected to life support for 72 hours, so the family held vigil while we all prayed for a miracle.

Wednesday, September 24 of this year, my boss’s daughter’s funeral was held. I never saw so many people, young and old, paying their respects to her memory. There were photographs of her all over the funeral home and as I sat in the midst of this crowd, I was overwhelmed with grief, old and new, at the loss of these young lives filled with so much promise. Now, as then, I could not make any sense out of the randomness of it all. Why her? Why him? They were so young! They had their entire lives in front of them! Why? Why? Why?

On Friday, the 26th, I was feeling downright morose. It was on this day, twenty years earlier, that a beautiful young man was allowed to quietly leave this world for the next. And, an entire new chapter unfolded for me and my family. A chapter filled with depositions, court hearings, trials and sentences. It would be another three years before I would find any semblance of normalcy in my life.

Today, as I look back on last week’s events, including two anniversaries and a funeral, I am struck by their similarity. While one was a crime and one was a horrible accident, the pain that follows that kind of loss must be nothing short of torture for the parents, family and friends of the departed.

They may never know, but I pray for all of them, every day.

I wish I could do more.

NOTE: I liked taking pictures of Katy & Mike. It was clear that they loved each other and enjoyed their relationship as Dad & Daughter. I'll miss seeing Katy. Especially with her dad.

2008-09-11T05:24:00.000-07:00

There can't be much to say about this day of remembrance, except to remember where I was at the time this occurred. I was sitting on the foot of my bed, brushing my teeth as I readied myself to go to work at Old Fort Lauderdale when the first plane hit. I was watching the Today Show and Katie Couric and Matt Lauer, with very somber faces, announced that a plane had crashed into one of the twin towers. A split screen had Matt and Katie on the right and the single burning tower on the left.

Another plane ran into the second tower and exploded. As millions of people watched on their TVs, just like me. I stopped brushing my teeth. And, said out loud, to my dog, " This is no accident." I sat there on the foot of my bed, toothbrush in one hand, crossed legs completely still, glued to the images on the TV for about two minutes. Then it hit me. I spoke, to no one in particular, not even my dog. "There's going to be a whole lot of people who are gonna go through what I went through." That was what I thought about in that moment. The senseless, stupid loss of a loved one was going to pervade the lives of who knew how many people... I know this because I've been there. I've had my entire life turned upside down in a split second because of the stupid, senseless choice of another human being.

For me, it's been almost twenty years. For the victim's families of 9/11, it's only been seven years. While time does make it easier to bear, time doesn't erase the hurt. I'm not sure anything ever does. Meanwhile, we must keep on dancing, doing whatever it takes to survive.

Sarah Palin's Hair

2008-09-04T08:44:00.000-07:00

They say the best offense is a good defense, so let me begin with a defensive remark: I am not attacking feminism or women's place in the world. I think we have just as much right to be president or vice president as any man. I know men and women think differently, but we have way more in common than we have different. Of this much, I am certain!

With that touchy issue out of the way, I've gotta tell ya' ... Alaska Governor Sarah Palin, the Republican Vice Presidential Candidate, needs to do something about her hair. It was the first thing that struck me about her appearance when she began appearing on the web and on TV last week after McCain released her name ... here was a lovely woman dressed as a professional right down to the eyeglasses, and her hair looked like an afterthought. Twisted up and clipped as though it were too much work to pin it up in a bun or french braid it or (Gasp!) wear it down and loose around her shoulders. Puh-leeeeze! C'mon, girl! Get with it!

I googled her photos and sorted through whatever came up, and photo after photo looks like the one you see here. Not polished. Not stylish. Not presidential at all. I didn't write anything though. I started thinking about writing on Sunday and Monday, but I said to meself, "No. Wait. Let her make her convention speech. See how she looks then."

So, I waited. And, what a disappointment. Oh, her speech was good. I'll give her that. But, her hair didn't look the least bit presidential. Sorry, kids. It really is an important issue for a woman executive. Appearance speaks volumes. I remember Annette, from the Mickey Mouse Club, singing the song about "beauty is as beauty does." A woman who doesn't take time with her hair may not take time with other things that are of importance to me, the average, ordinary American citizen.

The stylists are arguing that Palin might be a 'little too long in the tooth' for those tresses of hers, sparking yet another ongoing discussion among middle aged women: to cut or not to cut after hitting 40. Yes, long hair evokes youth, but long hair after 40 flirts with desperation.

Last night's speech, while inspiring and clearly targeted at her opponent, rang hollow. If it was me, and I was addressing the Republican National Convention just to lead the Pledge of Allegiance, I wouldn've gotten a haircut (or trim) and a professional styling. If she did get one or both of those things, I couldn't tell. Yeah, yeah! Her hair was down, but it didn't look presidential to me at all! And, if the truth be known, I want my President to look like The President of the United States of America. Pure and simple!

I'll be watching to see what she does next. And, I'll be listening very carefully to her and her new buddy, John McCain. They surprised me once. Let's see if they can do it again!

2008-08-28T07:46:00.000-07:00

In The Pink ...

I've been looking through my photographs from the last couple of years, and I stumbled on this one. I had forgotten all about it until I saw it again, then I remembered ...

I am really bad about taking pictures from the car. I know it's so declasse for "photographers" to do that, but I just can't help myself. When I see something I like, I want to capture the image and keep it!

I remember taking this one well, because it was such a surprise find. My darling husband and I were in Miami, just sort of wandering around, and when we came around the corner, POOF! There was this pink Volkswagen and a pink building and I grabbed the camera and did a point and shoot! And, here's what I got!

I like it ... I hope you do, too!

My friend, Janet ...

2008-08-08T08:01:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I spent a few hours with an old friend. We had a wonderfully fresh lunch at Mango's on Las Olas Boulevard followed by a personally guided tour through the Museum of Art where my friend is among the winners of the South Florida Cultural Consortium Fellowship for Visual and Media Artists... for the second time...

Once we'd completed our tour, we were off to her studio which is hidden in a warehouse district just south of the FEC railroad tracks. She had just acquired a huge collection of art and papers from the recently deceased mother of a friend the night before our meeting and it was a reverent yet delightful experience to see and touch this woman's things as Janet poured over them, sorting them into piles. There was a small plastic bag filled with cut-out egg shapes, each one with a random series of numbers typed in the center of the egg. Janet says that "obsessive compulsive" artists are the latest trend. The eggs are proof that these people exist, but I'll be very curious to see how she uses them in her collages.

She had nine of her pieces on exhibit at the Museum of Art and what I liked most about her work is its simplicity of design and sense of history that holds each piece together. One revealed an ancient, moldy book spine combined with a piece of an old envelope while another contained a rusty shape she'd scavenged from a dumpster somewhere. These objects would be totally meaningless if they'd been left as they were, but in the hands of this amazing artist, they are transformed to something else ... something that is all about design.

I enjoyed my amazing day and send many thanks to my friend, Janet Gold. We don't see each other as often as I'd like, but when we are together, it's always inspirational to me and way too much fun!

2008-07-31T13:01:00.000-07:00

Our ballet teacher, Erica, is leaving town. I brought my camera to the final class and captured this lovely image after class was done. During the center work, I got frustrated with myself because I couldn't complete the combination and got all teary-eyed. I think it came from the realization that she was leaving us and there would be no more ballet class.

Erica has been our teacher for a couple of years now and we've thoroughly enjoyed having her show us the "Cuban way" of dance. She made it look so easy when she demonstrated the moves and she cheered us on to dance, even when it was difficult. It isn't often that you find someone as young as Erica who understands how we "middle aged ladies" long to dance and leap across the floor and feel the power of ballet. It's good for your head and your bod! We're sure gonna miss her!

bLuE noTes

2008-07-16T12:50:00.000-07:00

Life's been a wee bit chaotic these past two weeks. Family stuff, you know? The "makes me crazy" kind of family stuff, that is ...

My darling husband and I have been going to the Starlight Musicals at Holiday Park on Friday nights this summer. It's like a big living room at the park with live music and lots of friends. Each week has a theme, like last week was Jimmy Buffet music by a local band and there were tents decorated like Key West and women wearing parrot hats. This week's theme is "The Blues" and I can hardly wait. It'll be music that suits my mood.

What's really sad about these two difficult weeks is that I've had no time for art. I'm really feeling it, too. I promise that tomorrow I will do something artful to make myself feel better.

Meanwhile, keep on keepin' on ... right?

Sweet Sixteen

2008-07-03T05:32:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, July 1st was my darling granddaughter's
sixteenth birthday and we took her to dinner
at The Cheesecake Factory where the waiters
sang "Happy Birthday" to her ...
After dinner, with very full tummys, we took a walk
along Las Olas Boulevard. Here's some of what
my camera and I saw ...

Chico's has these rather stylish mannequins and I
couldn't resist taking their pictures ...

The shop window below, was beautifully arranged and
lit so that even at night, it was picturesque.
Don't you just want to go in and lay down
to sleep, perchance to dream?

See them? (BELOW)
The one with the glasses? That's my granddaughter.
The other one is her Best Friend Forever.
As they exited the shop, a young woman came out
and told me I couldn't take pictures. Hmpfh!
As if ......................... !!!

It's been a rather strange and somewhat bizarre week.
It ended nicely though, don't you think?

The Obama Tidal Wave

2008-06-13T06:02:00.000-07:00

"It ought to begin by being personal."
--- Meg Ryan in "You've Got Mail."

I read all of the e-mail messages that come from friends and acquaintances when they're about Barack Obama. I, too, had doubts about him when he won the Iowa caucus in January.

I am taking the time NOW to investigate who he is and what he's about as I move to make my selection of the person I think can best do the job of President of the United States of America. I take this very seriously and do my homework!

I am currently reading "The Audacity of Hope: Reclaiming the American Dream" which Obama wrote and published in October 2006. I am impressed with his writing and the organization of his thoughts and related experiences. I watch, read and listen on a daily basis, about Obama and McCain. I hope that you do, too.

Click here: All Things Considered : NPR

McCain's 23-year-old daughter has a blog about traveling with her father's campaign. It's from her point of view, and it provides some insight into McCain in a "different" leadership role --- the role of "Dad." Go visit.

Click here: McCainBlogette.com

If you have not already heard, Obama has set up a "rumor control" web site in response to all the internet gossip. Personally, I think it's an idea whose time has come. Below is the link. Check it out.

Click here: Fight the Smears Fight the Smears Home

John Adams & The Constitution
I watched every episode of "John Adams," the HBO mini-series based on the Pulitzer Prize winning book about our second President and Founding Father, and I am in awe of what all the Founding Fathers did to create the Land of the Free. I have read and re-read the Constitution of the United States of America, which provides a way for us to govern ourselves, and it, too, is an astonishing document, still relevant and operable two hundred years after it was first "published."

Click here: HBO Films: John Adams

Click here: LII: Constitution

Obama appears to embody the spirit of the Founding Fathers. He believes he can do the job of President and it's up to us to decide if we agree with him. It doesn't mean that I've made up my mind to vote for him. I am a registered Republican who is somewhat disillusioned with her party at this point in time. I AM checking him out, trying to get to know him.

I want our next President to be very smart and very well educated. I want a President who understands the economics of our country and the global economy. It's changing rapidly and a technically savvy President can guide us through the maze of changes we are, even now, experiencing. I want a President who is not afraid to talk to the leaders of the other countries. We must engage in dialogue and diplomacy if we are to spread the idea of Freedom upon which our Founding Fathers built our country. Our President does not have to agree with those other guys, but he needs to be talking to them and listening to them ... remember the thing about "keeping your enemies closer"? Our President will be smart enough to do a thing like that.

I want a President who knows that "getting the right people on the bus" is essential to a successful journey. Please check out the 3-page "Good To Great Discussion Guide" and you'll find a sense of what Obama is doing as he prepares to run the business of the U.S. Government. It's a really BIG job to be President, and I really want a President who has his stuff together!

Click here: Welcome to Jim Collins.com

I invite everyone to examine the ideas I've presented here and to share your ideas with me. We have a few months to prepare ourselves for the "Final Hire" on voting day, so join me in the journey to November.

It'll be fun!

2008-06-12T10:55:00.000-07:00

I'm a tree hugger ...

I live in Broward County, Florida, which is located between Palm Beach County and Miami-Dade County. Broward's name was made famous by episodes of "Miami Vice," when Crockett & Tubbs chased the bad guys up I-95 "to Broward."

The tree in this picture is the only one like it that I've seen anywhere. And, I promise you that, not only do I get around the county, but I pay attention to trees! I took this photo while waiting at the stop light at Andrews Avenue and North 2nd Street. The property belongs to the City of Fort Lauderdale, but hasn't been used since Hurricane Wilma in 2005. It's been shuttered ever since and I wonder every day as I pass by it if they will leave it when they decide what to do with the property. I've seen developers cut down trees with absolutely no regard for the wildlife that might reside in them, the oxygen they produce or the beauty they add to our world, so my worries are based in reality.

I love trees of all kinds, even the "invasive exotic species" that are on the hit list for NatureScape and all the environmental protection people. I understand the reasoning behind the efforts to remove them, but some of them are truly spectacular and should be left for Mother Nature to take down (as in Hurricane Wilma). This tree, though, doesn't look like it's going anywhere any time soon. It's not too tall, it has a wide trunk, and the way the branches are constructed, I think it would take a licking and keep on ticking!

I love this photo. I am discovering that the photos shot quickly, like this one while sitting in traffic, come out the best. If only I could figure out how to duplicate that process so more of my pictures looked like this one! Ahhhh! The mysteries of life ...

2008-06-06T12:59:00.001-07:00

... and your point is?

I love pencils.
I have cups filled with them, sharpened and unsharpened.

I have a Mason jar that is filled with colored pencils that I use almost daily.I have an old-fashioned hand-cranked pencil sharpener and I wouldn't trade it for all the electric sharpeners in the world. They just don't do the job as well as the old-fashioned kind do. My favorite leads are soft, 1 or 2HB. I like the way they spread the graphite on the paper, especially when the paper is smooth and shiny. I've collected pictures of pencils from the internet as long as I can remember and decided to just play around in PhotoShop this afternoon. What you see above is the result of that playtime. If you like pencils, too, I encourage you to visit Pencil Revolution.

http://pencilrevolution.com/

You'll find lots of great pencil stuff to look at and read about!

Happy Friday!

southern belles & artists

2008-05-19T11:59:00.000-07:00

Southern Belles & Artists Southern Belles & Artists Southern Belles
Southern Belles & Artists Southern Belles & Artists
Southern Belles & Artists
Southern
Belles
&
Artists

Southern Belles & Artists

No blogging for almost a month. No time to take pictures.

No time to gather my thoughts.

And, now, two blogs in one day.

Now, if I don't write anything profound, does that make it NOT art?

There are no descenders in the title. Just a typographic observation...

PlaYinG around in PhotoshoP

2008-05-19T11:19:00.000-07:00

I took the photo (top) from the car while sitting at the intersection of U.S.1 and Old Griffin Road (and, yes, there is a "new" Griffin Road). When I got it up on the computer, I found I really like the image, so I started messing around with Photoshop's filters.

The black and white imagebelow is what happened after I applied the "ink outlines" filter.

The color image illustrates what the "graphic pen filter" does to the image.

Kinda cool, huh?
The filters give the photograph a surrealistic quality, making me think of Grace Slick and Jefferson Airplane back in the late 1960s. Things look different from what they really are.
Now, I must ask: is this art?

Pineapple in Paradise

2008-04-25T10:43:00.000-07:00

See the pineapple plant? Well, that little baby started from a pineapple top I put in the ground four years ago! FOUR YEARS AGO! It seems a lifetime ago!

I had planted a dahoon holly tree and thought it needed some company. I remember the day, a Saturday in April, 2004, because I wrote about it in my garden journal. The dahoon holly was just barely two feet tall at the time, just a little twig of a thing, and it looked so lonely there next to the clothesline pole.

I just happened to have a pineapple I'd purchased from the grocery store for an upside down pineapple rum cake I was making. So, the next day, Sunday, I decided I would see if what they said was true: that you could put the top of the pineapple in the ground and a plant would grow.

Well, gosh and by golly, it is true! Today the dahoon holly is well over four feet tall (it's a slow grower) and lookee here! lookee here! My pineapple plant is growing a pineapple!

Last year I was utterly convinced that I would never see a pineapple. I had pretty much given up hope. I checked my garden journal each year to remind myself when I'd planted it, and nothing. Then, this year, I didn't check my garden journal for I had decided it was pointless to do so. And, look what happened!

I am just so impressed with Mother Nature! It's sort of like cloning, if you ask me. All it takes is the remnant of the fruit and after time goes by, you get the same fruit all over again! My goodness! But, that does seem quite miraculous to me!

I don't know how long it takes for the fruit to get big enough to eat, but stay tuned! And, you can be sure I'll be digging out my upside down pineapple rum cake recipe!

4 x 4 FRIDAY

2008-04-14T12:38:00.000-07:00

Rebecca is 79-years-old and has been one of my theatre-family friends since 1992. She commented at one of our many get-togethers that we are "Framily." There's a group of us who have known each other for ages and we gather for each other's birthdays, anniversaries, baptisms and funerals.

I discovered a weekly art competition, "4 x 4 Friday" and found the current theme inspirational, so I put this little diddy together for this week's theme, FAMILY.

Visit http://4x4friday.wordpress.com/ to learn all about it! Meanwhile, enjoy my "art."

2008-04-14T10:38:00.000-07:00

Easy Come,
Easy Go

One day this rooster showed up at the office door. I was certain he belonged to someone, but how do you find the owner of a rooster?

Beats me!

So, I had fun watching him as he pecked around the parking lot, looking for something to eat.

A week went by and I figured that when I returned after the weekend he'd be gone. But, on Monday morning, there he was! So, off I went to get some chicken feed from the local feed store
He hung around for nearly a month and I managed to take a few pictures of him that will make their way into my photo album, but one Friday morning when I came to work, he was gone. When I asked the boss if he'd seen the rooster, he said, "Oh, some guy showed up this morning before you arrived and claimed the bird was his."
So, my little friend was taken away before we could say goodbye.

I have his photos, though, and I'm glad he visited for a while. Maybe it's better when friends come in and out of your life unexpectedly like that. There's a kind of joy in those new relationships, and a special kind of sadness when they're over, but the memories are yours to keep, along with the pictures. So, like the title says, "Easy Come, Easy Go."

2008-04-04T12:11:00.000-07:00

On the road
to the weekend!

I was just sifting through the computer folders that hold my many photographs. Sometimes I'm amazed at how good some of these pictures are. It's a funny thing with taking photos; the photographer "sees" one thing and the camera "sees" another. It's when the two are the same that the art part of photography occurs for me.

This photo I shot on my way to work one morning in March. Along Viele Road there are horse ranches and high zoot homes on 0ne-acre lots and it's really a beautiful road to drive, especially early in the day when there's not much traffic. Anyway, it was a foggy morning and out of the mist came these geese, just tooling along, oblivious of the rest of the world. I had the camera with me, so I pulled off to the side of the road, got out and started shooting. With a digital camera, you can never be sure what you've got until you get it up on the computer screen. Imagine my surprise when I saw this cool shot! So, here it is for all the world to see! And, now I'm off for the weekend, like the geese in the picture ... not quite sure where I'm going, but really joyful to be headed that way! Cheers to all!

A nostalgic moment ...

2008-04-01T12:53:00.000-07:00

As long as I can remember, I have loved ballet. When I was a little girl, maybe five or six years old, my mother enrolled me in Mrs. O'Laker's dancing school in my hometown of Hopewell, Virginia. And, how I loved going to ballet class! It was my escape from the pain of childhood ...

We had to wear black leotards and pink tights with pink ballet slippers and my mother got me a little pink bag with the silhouette of a ballet dancer on it. I can clearly remember my excitement before each class, knowing I would get to wear my "dancer's clothes" and do plié and jeté, and at the end of class I could try to do a pirouette (to whirl or spin). I remember the day I did a complete pirouette and Mrs. O'Laker didn't correct me or scold me for incorrect technique --- It was a day of complete and utter joy!

I've taken ballet classes off and on for years. Today, some 50 years since that first pirouette, I am still doing ballet. Twice a week I don my black leotard, black tights and my pink ballet slippers and I take class with retired ballerinas who dance much better than me. But, one thing is certain: no one dances more enthusiastically than me! I may not be able to do double pirouettes because of an old ankle injury, but the single I can do is done with as much precision and good technique as I can muster!

I don't have any illusions that I'll dance on a stage, for that's not why I do it. I do it because it feels so wonderful! I love the barre work and I am challenged by the center work. For the hour or 90 minutes of class, I am so busy thinking about which way my foot should point, is my elbow up, are my shoulders down, am I holding my stomach in and lifting up out of the rib cage that I simply don't have time to think about anything else. Ballet is as good for my head as it is for my body and I simply cannot imagine life without it!

The photograph above was recently given to me by an aunt. I'm the tall one. The little girl is my cousin, Sharon, and we were "ballerinas" one day while our mothers were doing whatever it was they did when they got together. The little boy is my brother, Jim, and he is still a superhero and cat lover. He has four cats at his apartment and has always had cats ... as long as I remember.

I have a little mobile hanging over my desk of a dancing fairy with a pink ribbon tied around her waist and little charms with these words:

There ARE shortcuts to happiness
and DANCING is one of them!

Gas Guzzlers

2008-03-26T12:48:00.000-07:00

I took this picture from behind the wheel of my car while waiting at a traffic light. You can't see the light because the truck blocks my view. It's interesting that this oversized Chevy truck has a Hummer logo on it along with a tiny little bumper sticker above the license plat that reads, "Hi, I don't care, thanks." What do I know about the owner/driver of this bully? I know he's a bully from Indiana and I'll be real happy when he goes back to Indiana. We get so many of these jerks here in Florida and we're supposed to smile and be nice because they're "tourists."

Hmph! Tourist, smourists! He's just too big for his britches if you ask me. I drive a little Saturn that gets 26 miles per gallon and I get pushed out of the way by these bullies on a daily basis while driving to and from work. I try to be gracious and just get out of their way, but sometimes they irk me and I want to slap 'em!

One more month (give or take) and the tourists and snow birds will head back north.

Google "BLOG" = 701,000,000 entries

2008-03-12T12:43:00.000-07:00

Nobody's read my blog yet.
At least, I don't think they have, because there's been no comments.
Otherwise, I've not a single, solitary clue how to tell if anyone has been here.
Then again, I didn't start this blog for anyone else. I started it for me.
I needed someplace where I could write about whatever I feel like writing about.
So, there!

One day, maybe, I'll send a link around to some of my friends.
But, maybe I'll find a way to insert a counter first.
That would be helpful, wouldn't it?
Yes. It would.
I paged through some of the "blog" entries listed on Google and, oh, my! there are blogs of every kind out there! Politics, economics, government, artists, writers, blogs about blogging and, of course, the "celebrity" blogs. Gimme a break! If you're a celebrity, aren't you already getting enough attention? What do you need a blog for? Jeez, Louise!
Well, there's my entry for today. I'm still trying to figure out how to be more creative with the photos ... onward!

Spring has Sprung, Part One

2008-03-11T09:57:00.000-07:00

My darling husband showered me with gifts in February. For Valentine's Day he gave me a beautiful heart-shaped ring of rubies and diamonds. I have never received a gift like that before! And, for my birthday, he gave me a wonderful Nikon D80 digital camera and I have been snapping photos ever since! Here's one I took last Saturday --- and, as you can see, the clarity and colors are just amazing. I had been using a Kodak DX7590 (5 megapixels) and I was truly happy with it. But this Nikon (at 10 megapixels) just blows me away! The orchids were from a vendor in attendance at a big historical festival in Davie and I kick myself that I didn't have any money to buy one or two. They were $5 a piece for chrissake! I did, however, get some beautiful photographs of the orchids, so that will have to suffice for now. My next task is to figure out how to load more than one picture at a time to my blog. Hmmm... maybe there's help around here somewhere ...

a lost hour ...

2008-03-06T08:58:00.000-08:00

It's the first Thursday in March and with my early morning cup of joe came the meteorologist's proclamation that this Saturday night we would move to Daylight Savings Time. Oh, joy. That means when I get up Sunday morning at 7:30 to go through the Sunday paper, it won't be 7:30, it will be 8:30. I'm usually done with my Sunday paper by then so I can take care of whatever it is I'm supposed to take care of after I read the Sunday paper. You see, Sunday is the only day of the week where I have the time to leisurely journey through the newspaper. I love the newspaper, but real life gets in the way of reading it on weekdays, so I resort to reading it on the internet during the week and eagerly anticipate the Sunday edition, at home wearing my pajamas and drinking my fresh-ground, home brewed coffee. I like the weight of the paper in the plastic bag when I pick it up from the driveway. I like the smell of the ink on paper when I remove it from the plastic bag. Once I have my coffee cup in hand, I switch on the lamp with its energy saving bulbs, don my red reading glasses and begin to disassemble the paper. The front page. The Local section. The business section and the art & culture section. The classifieds and the travel section. And, joy of joys! the weekly circulars from Target and K-Mart and other local stores comes under separate plastic wrap, just waiting for my purusal.

I put them in the order I like to read them and then I begin with Page One and don't stop (except to go to the bathroom!) until I'm done. The entire process usually takes about an hour. But this week, because I will lose an hour of my life to Daylight Savings Time, I suspect I will have to perform the abbreviated version of reading the Sunday paper.

I like the extra daylight at the end of the day that comes with Daylight Savings Time, but I don't really get to enjoy it for two or three weeks. You see, that's how long it takes my body to adjust. I wake up every morning two or three minutes before the alarm goes off. My internal clock works really well. But it won't be working for the next few weeks. I'll be thinking it's almost 5:30 AM and it will really be 6:30 AM and I will be late!

Rainy day in sunny, south Florida

2008-02-12T11:56:00.000-08:00

In my all-time favorite movie, "You've Got Mail," Meg Ryan's character declares her love for daisies, saying, "Daisies are the friendliest flower." And, they surely are. Which is how I feel about the world today. Life's like a daisy --- friendly. But only for today.

Today there are no traumas, no crises, no problems that are in desperate need of solving. Today is one of those days when I got my work done at the job and now am confronted with the cold, hard fact that I have to get myself busy making valentines as St. Valentine's Day is only two days away, leaving me exactly one day to do the job!

It's downright ugly outside today. Today (a Tuesday) we have a "warm front" moving across the Florida peninsula. Tomorrow a "cold front" is supposed to sweep across the state, "ushering in cooler air." Last night I watched a newscast from Chicago and their high temperature was eight degrees with 10 to 20 mph winds. The temperature here might (and, I use the word "might" very loosely) ... might reach into the sixties. How I love this paradise where I've lived since I was 24. I'm accustomed to the summer weather, and so, don't complain about the heat. I don't complain about the rain either. I would, however, complain loudly if it were eight degrees! How does one function in that kind of weather? There's no way you could don enough clothes to stay warm, even if you wore cashmere and fur! I wouldn't last three days in eight degree weather, no matter how much I might like a place. I liked Montana ... in June. I liked the NC mountains ... in July. I liked Colorado in August. But there's is no way I could handle that kind of cold day after day. Not this chicken! I'll take a rainy day in sunny, south Florida anytime. I'll take a Florida cold front anytime they pass this way. And, by Friday, we'll be singing, "Here comes the sun!" (Can't you just hear the Beatles refrain?)

birthday blues

2008-02-08T04:58:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was my birthday. It wasn't a very happy one though. And, then, this morning, before coffee was drunk, my husband became quite agitated and angry and he was, once again, bashing me, mocking me, belittling me and there was no way to talk to him.
He is so very unhappy, and he seems to think/believe that somehow it is my responsibility to make him happy. Dave (darling husband #3) thought/believed the same thing. And, for reasons I cannot explain, I do not agree with this way of thinking/believing. One person is not in charge of another person's happiness.
I have one of those hokey wood placques from the 1980s that has a "saying" on it that has hung somewhere around me since I acquired it in the 1980s. It has a picture of a sailboat on a calm lake --- very peaceful looking --- and the quote is: "your only obligation in any lifetime is to be true to yourself."
I really, truly believe that. Really.
Yet, one after another, I find myself involved with men who hold others accountable for whether or not they are happy.
I just don't get it.
Hey! I'm not happy right now because dh#4 was ranting and raving at me this morning about how unhappy he is in his life. He has to "put up with" my dog, my two cats, my birds, my children, my grandchild, me ... and all he wants is his "privacy." What exactly could this mean? Have I overlooked that he is anti-social? Do I recognize the behaviors of an alcoholic who blames everyone around him/her for the mistakes? How does it all fit together?
Perhaps I'm just not meant to be married. It seems that being married requires that one must give up one's identity. He wants me to become so immersed in his life that there is no place for what I care about, no room for my interests, no time for the activities I enjoy. I thought I was doing that. But, I guess not ...
How silly is this: he's jealous of my dog sitting on my lap. The dog is loyal and faithful and loves me as only a dog can do. My dog accepts me as I am, never asking for any more than I'm willing to give. And, my husband resents the attention I give to the dog. He also resents the way the dog follows me and is never more than a few feet away from me when I'm home. THIS is what he wants! Unfortunately, he's a man, not a dog. And, you just don't treat them the same way. The dog is a dumb animal, dependent on this human being for food and shelter. The man is not a dumb animal and should be independent, able to provide the essentials for himself.
DOES THIS MAKE ANY SENSE???
I've given my best. But, I know that sometimes in this life, even one's best is not enough.
I'm tired of being lonely. And, that's pretty much what I've been here lately.

the next day

2008-01-30T10:11:00.000-08:00

I dunno.

This is like watching a TV show and being able to comment on the script. I see my granddaughter, who is street wise way beyond her 15 years, struggling to fit in with her dad and his rules. He took away her cell phone and she is on restriction for I don't know how long. He imposed these things because she lied to him, telling him she was one place when she was at another place. I asked him, "What can she do now that you've isolated her from everything? She cannot talk on her phone to her friends and she cannot go anywhere." I tried to lead him to understand that isolating her is not punishment. It's isolation. He is cutting her off from everything. No friends. No social interaction. No activity outside of school. And, it appears he's not providing her with any kind of companionship. How very lonely she must be ...

He's coming over tonight, to pick her up and take her home. I've asked him if we can talk together a little before they take off. Please let the wisdom of my age provide me with the words and actions that will serve them well.

Pretty please?

my granddaughter is a rebel

2008-01-29T13:10:00.000-08:00

I just got off the phone with my 15-year-old granddaughter's father. He's not my son-in-law, because he never married my daughter, but he is her dad. Anyway, this kid is in a lot of trouble. She just recently came to live with her dad after going through a whole lot of crisis type stuff with her mom that included skipping school, smoking pot, shoplifting and lying. Her mom wasn't able to deal with her and they apparently came to blows over something. So, now she's with her dad.

He's got her in a special school for kids with her kind of problems, but the system isn't moving fast enough. While he waits for help for her, she's lying to him about things and doing stuff she shouldn't be doing --- like smoking pot and sneaking off to meet "friends" he doesn't think are good for her.

She's going to be staying at my house tonight, until he can get himself together and think it through. He's already been in trouble with the family courts for the way he's expressed his anger towards her in the past, so he's very cautious about being with her when he's upset.

I'm distressed because I don't know how to help this child. I love her very much, but I'm also aware of how manipulative she can be. She learned it from her mom. Who learned it from me.

Where do we go from here?

Florida Flu

2008-01-27T08:52:00.000-08:00

Photo right: a 3-D model of the flu virus

I caught the flu from someone, somewhere last weekend. Maybe they didn't know they had the flu. Or, maybe they were just beginning to feel bad. I dunno ...

The only place I went was Wal-Mart, with my husband on Saturday afternoon. I didn't hug or kiss anyone since I didn't see anyone I knew. Why, I didn't even shake hands with anyone. But, by Sunday afternoon, I was down for the count. Having NOT had the flu since 1997, I was completely caught by suprise. I laid on the sofa Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, taking Motrin for the body aches and headache and moaning and groaning about feeling so awful. My 3-day weekend for MLK day went away. It was "sick time" for this old girl. When I was finally able to get on the computer again, I thought I would look it up and see what this flu crap is all about. Here's what I found: The flu is a respiratory illness caused by infection of the Influenza virus which belongs to the Orthomyxoviridae family. Infected individuals usually experience a rapid onset of flu symptoms which typically include: muscle aches, high fever, head ache, chills, fatigue, dry cough and runny/stuffy nose. Symptoms begin within 48 hours of infection and generally occur suddenly; recovery from the primary infection may take up to two weeks. Flu complications can involve secondary infections such as life-threatening bacterial pneumonia or pneumonia caused by the Influenza virus itself. Reports estimate that annually five to twenty percent of the population of the United States becomes infected with the flu with over 35,000 deaths related to complications each year.

I had no clue how bad it is to get the flu. And, that little thing about pneumonia scares me. I did have pneumonia in 2004, over the long Thanksgiving weekend and I learned that it leaves damage on your lungs that never goes away. Pret-ty scary stuff ...

My timing for becoming ill seems ironic, doesn't it? Why can't I be sick Monday through Friday? Oh, no. Not me. I get a break from the everyday, run-as-fast-as-you-can rat race of a job I love and what do I do? Yard work? Nope. Catch up on my laundry? Nah. Clear my always overflowing in box? Not on your life!

Thus far in 2008, I have managed to acquire food poisoning for the New Year and flu for Martin Luther King's birthday. I wonder what February holds for me... President's Day is a "legal" holiday. Will this be the long dreaded bad cold? Or worse? Stay tuned!

I hate underlining

2008-01-17T11:44:00.000-08:00

Well, I have been all over the place here trying to figure out how to eliminate the underlining from my post title. Can't find a damned thing that I understand! All this time I thought it was easy creating a blog, then along comes this annoying underline feature and I'm ready to take a ball bat to my computer! Aughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

It's bad enough that people write in ALL CAPS --- long diatribes on life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness --- all written in caps which take twice as long to read. Then there are the lovely individuals who use script fonts in all caps. I just love those guys and gals! What are they thinking about? Someone! Please! Tell me!

But, underlining is the most annoying typographic treatment there is because people don't use it properly. And, today, I'm just not in the mood to explain why! Just suffice it to say, I hate underlining.

The post-holiday, mid-January, they're making me crazy blues

2008-01-15T09:02:00.000-08:00

It's Tuesday, the fifteenth day of Janaury. Jeez, but it took me long enough to get here, didn't it?

I created this blog back in December with the intention of providing myself with a place where I could write about the things that matter to me and, often, not to anyone else. My intention is to write something at least every other day. I've enjoyed visiting those blogs where the artist creates a new piece of art every day and posts it for sale. Well, I don't have any illusions about being an artist, but I think writing every day (or so) is an important exercise to improve my skills and help me get through all the junk so I can get to the "good stuff," whatever that might be.

So, there you have it. For now.