Monday, November 23, 2009

Happy Thanksgiving

I received this email - The Turkey test. Thought I knew a whole bunch about Turkeys, well, I don't.
Pretty interesting.

Thursday, November 19, 2009


Starting to get excited about the kitchen, not really liking the dust and all the insulation in the attic,that is now all over the house. Went to Home Depot and pick up some paint samples, to much to choose from. Lovin color but really like the neutrals, we will see. I can't go to overboard, Jerry is finally use to the Bougainvillea and mustard in the bedroom and the lavender and green in the studio.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Motley Crowd tis is- Thanksgiving 2008
-Before Hurricane Wilma, we always had our gatherings outside-We had a screened in patio, never rained, always beautiful weather. Things change, but they somehow remain the same. We are redoing our kitchen, I am busy unpacking cupboards, going to be so different. Thanksgiving won't be at our house this year. Gonna miss this old kitchen.

Thanks for the Memories-
My Thanksgiving Poem

While packing up our things
thought it will never be the same
so much fuss, so much stuff

Memories in the plates, for goodness sakes
Mother, we miss your apple pie
and Mom your pecan pies
and the family ties
Grandma Zieman's rolls
never taste the same
but we'll keep on trying

Sometimes we take for granted
what we have been granted
Grown up too fast
but what a blast

Aluminium foil
Tupperware that sometimes disappeared
and then reappears next year
family together, some gone forever
but yet right there, in some dish that we have prepared
Generation after generation
marriages and kids
The family tradition
wouldn't trade it for a thing

Going to miss this old Kitchen
with all it's broken things
we'll have a new kitchen to
gather in once again.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Saturday, November 7, 2009


I really don't think a person can take a bad picture of the Flamingo. They are so BEAUTIFUL! The date doesn't do much for the photo, but a least it matches and she looks like she doesn't mind. I am so fortunate to live near an aviary with such wonderful birds. (the Flamingo aren't in the aviary, there not going anywhere. The black birds got in during hurricane Wilma and they won't leave. The ones on the outside are really trying hard to get in.

Sorry I have to post My Family Tree- I just got this in a email- Didn't know until right this minute that I was related to Vincent!

Family Tree of Vincent Van Gogh--His dizzy aunt --- Verti Gogh-The brother who worked at a convenience store --- Stop N Gogh-The grandfather from Yugoslavia -- U Gogh-His magician uncle --- Where-diddy Gogh--His Mexican cousin --- A Mee Gogh--The Mexican cousin's American half-brother --- Gring Gogh-The nephew who drove a stage coach ---- Wells-far Gogh-The ballroom dancing aunt -- Tang Gogh-The bird lover uncle --- Flamin Gogh-The fruit-loving cousin --- Man Gogh-An aunt who taught positive thinking --- Way-to-Gogh-The little bouncy nephew -- Poe Gogh-A sister who loved disco --- Go Gogh-And his niece who travels the country in an RV ---Winnie Bay Gogh-There ya Gogh! Time to Gogh.......Oops I gotta Gogh!!!

Friday, November 6, 2009

A Turtle

I am a Turtle Turtle in the pond
Gotta get out and look around
Look and see what I have found
Another beautiful sunny day to crawl around

Thursday, November 5, 2009


Has a message for all of us...PLEASE TAKE TIME TO READ.

CRABBY OLD MAN When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte, Nebraska, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value .Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, They found this poem . Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital .One nurse took her copy to Missouri . The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.Crabby Old ManWhat do you see nurses? . .. . What do you see? What are you thinking . . . . . when you're looking at me?A crabby old man, . ... . . . . not very wise,Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . .with faraway eyes?Who dribbles his food . . .. . .and makes no reply .When you say in a loud voice ..'I do wish you'd try!' Who seems not to notice . . . .the things that you do ..And forever is losing . . . . . . A sock or shoe?Who, resisting or not . . . . . lets you do as you will,With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill? Is that what you're thinking?. . Is that what you see?Then open your eyes, nurse . . .you're not looking at me ..I'll tell you who I am . . . . . . As I sit here so still,As I do at your bidding, .. . . . .as I eat at your will. I'm a small child of Ten .. . . .with a father and mother,Brothers and sisters . . . . .. . . w ho love one another.A young boy of Sixteen . . . . . with wings on his feetDreaming that soon now . . . . . a lover he'll meet.. A groom soon at Twenty . . . . .my heart gives a leap.Remembering, the vows . . . . ..that I promised to keep.At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . . . I have young of my own.Who need me to guide . . . . . .And a secure happy home. A man of Thirty . . . . .. . . . . My young now grown fast,Bound to each other . . . . . . . .With ties that should last.At Forty, my young sons .. . . . have grown and are gone,But my woman's beside me. . . . to see I don't mourn. At Fifty, once more, . . . . . . . babies play 'round my knee,Again, we know children . . . . . My loved one and me.Dark days are upon me . . . . .. .my wife is now dead.I look at the future ... . . . . . shudder with dread..
For my young are all rearing . .. young of their own.And I think of the years . . . . and the love that I've known.I'm now an old man . . . . . . . . and nature is cruel.Tis jest to make old age . . . . . look like a fool. The body, it crumbles . . . . . . grace and vigor, depart.There is now a stone . . . . . . where I once had a heart.But inside this old carcass . . . . a young guy still dwells,And now and again . . . .. . . . . my battered heart swells. I remember the joys . . . . . . . I remember the pain.And I'm loving and living. . . . . life over again.I think of the years, . . . . . . ..all too few gone too fast.And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last. So open your eyes, people. . . . open and see.Not a crabby old man. . . . . . . Look closer . . . . see ME!!Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within . . . . we will all, one day, be there, too! PLEASE SHARE THIS POEMThe best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched. They must be felt by the heart.
God Bless All who read this Poem and send it to those on "YOUR" mailing list

Tuesday, November 3, 2009


Whose feet are those
I do not know
Too big to be mine.
And the toes
whose are those
only three.
That could not be
Lets look again
Oooooh!!! they belong to meeeee!

Monday, November 2, 2009

Who That Bee?

Who that be over there
What do I see
Is it a Bee
Bothering Me

Or maybe a flying Bat
What would you think of that
Of course that could not Bee
the thing that I see

Maybe a Humming Bird
That would be neat to see
Whatever it is
I wonder what it thinks of Me!

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Another Exercise

Another Exercise-

While I was looking for something, I found something else, (easily distracted) An excersie that I did many years ago, a painting out of a collage.
The figure on the right was a quick collage I did on orange construction paper, taking stuff out of magazines, my first attempt at collage. It was so much fun that I figured that I would do a painting of the collage, taking white watercolor paper, add a few more touches and woola. (watercolor and gouache) It was fun to do.
I can see with this photo I could darken some of the shadows, maybe, nay!
Of course, I didn't find what I was looking for because posting this was more fun.