Thanks for the reminder!

I’ve lived here for twelve years and I just discovered this park!

Who knew?

On a scale of one to ten, it was an eleven.

And what made it really memorable…..

As Husband and I were enjoying the cool breeze and the beautiful view, a woman walking by remarked how nice it would be to live here.

And it was like the fates slapping me upside the head to remind me to count my blessings!

Message received.

I’m counting.

Look for the Silver Lining

I’ve always been a ‘glass half full’ kind of person.

Always looking for the silver lining, the bright side…..etc.

(This drives my family crazy! Another ‘silver lining’ oooops sorry, my sadistic side is showing…..;)

At the doctor’s office the other day, the nurse complimented me on my skin saying, “You don’t have any wrinkles!” 

“Well,” I said, “That’s the up side to being overweight. The fat fills in the wrinkles!”

She looked at me with wide eyes for a moment and then we both burst into laughter!

Another silver lining!

Caught Red Handed

Every morning we found crumbs on our kitchen floor. 

We thought we had mice.

Until BigBrother visited us and solved the mystery.

Son2 was an Oreoholic.

Left to his own devices he would eat an entire package in one sitting.

So, being the good parents we were, we hid them on the tippy top shelf of the kitchen cabinet.

Our kitchen had a vaulted ceiling and the cabinets were almost to the ceiling. The point here is they were TALL cabinets and the top shelf was way the hell up there!

When BigBrother came to visit he slept on the couch which had a direct view at the counter and cabinet where said Oreos were kept.

On the first morning of his visit he regaled us with this story.

It was around dawn and as he was half dozing on the couch this is what he saw;

A small shadowy figure came silently down the hall and into the kitchen. 

Quietly slid a chair over to the counter, climbed up the chair, onto the counter, and using the shelves of the cabinet like a ladder CLIMBED UP  TO REACH THE OREOS! 

Took the package, climbed down and sat on the counter enjoying a pre-dawn snack. 

He then climbed back up the shelves returning the Oreos to their original position, climbed down, closed the cabinet, returned the chair to its rightful place and even thought to BRUSH THE CRUMBS OFF THE COUNTER!

We’re talking a four year old here!

As BigBrother amused us with this story we all looked at Son2 and wondered out loud “Who could it be?”

He denied the whole thing! LOL

The Proper Way to Eat an Oreo

The proper way to eat an Oreo (aka the robin way)

1. Gather necessary tools: silver demitasse spoon, plate of 4 Oreo cookies (original kind only,) tall glass of ice cold milk.

2. Find a comfy secluded place where you won’t be disturbed (or have to share.)

3. Settle in.

4. Take first cookie and twist apart.

5. With pinky finger in an upright position, use the silver demitasse spoon to carefully scrape off the crème filling and eat.

 6. Take remaining chocolate biscuit and carefully submerge into the milk. (This takes great practice and mastery; too long and the cookie will disintegrate and fall to the bottom of the glass; too short a time and it’s not sufficiently soggy to thoroughly enjoy.)

7. Eat mushy cookie.

8. Pause to savor experience and to take a drink of milk.

9. Repeat steps 2 through 8.

This

Plus this

Plus this

Equals bliss!

Oreos have always played a significant role in our family. I was an Oreoholic and apparently I passed this genetic defect on to Son2.

On tomorrow’s episode :  Caught Red Handed

And Then There Was the Time…..

We were once again moving and showing the house to perspective buyers.

I was, by then, a teenager who thoroughly hated getting up in the morning.

My mother semi-woke me, steered me into her room pillow and blanket in hand, and shoved me under her bed.

It was an antique four poster that was so high you needed a stool to climb into it, so there was plenty of room for me underneath. I was hidden from sight by the dust ruffle.

It was the perfect solution.

I didn’t have to wake up, my mother could show the house to the gentleman who wanted to come before work and she wouldn’t have to put up with a cranky teen!

Win-win!

Until….. as she was showing him through the master bedroom I rolled over and my arm flopped out from under the bed!

She smiled sweetly and said, “Oh, that’s just my daughter. She didn’t want to get up this early.” And continued the showing.

We never heard from him again.

We never understood why……LOL

No, the Basement Doesn’t Flood Why Do You Ask?

One of the houses we lived in had a very steep embankment in the backyard.

In fact there really wasn’t a backyard so much as walled tiers going pretty much straight uphill.

When it rained the tiers turned into a lovely waterfall that emptied into our basement.

Not every rainfall would flood the basement, just most of them.

There was a drain in the floor of the basement because the builder must have known what would happen in a storm.

One fine rainy day the realtor called to say that she was coming with a perspective buyer.

Did my mother panic at the thought of showing a house with a wet basement?

She did not!

She did what any honest, upstanding, well intentioned person (who was trying to sell their house) would do.

She waited until she saw the realtor and her client approaching the front door and went down to the basement, turned on the garden hose and when they came downstairs she just said, “Oh, excuse me! I didn’t expect you this quickly. I was just tidying up.”

When the buyer asked if the basement flooded my mother looked him straight in the eye and said, “Why no, the basement doesn’t flood.”

She was a pillar of integrity! LOL (and yes, he bought the house!)

WIP Update.......

Its coming along….but not fast enough to be done by tomorrow.

That’s okay though.

I’m quite pleased with how it’s progressing and I’m not willing to compromise just to meet a deadline.

That may be self delusion (keeping me from putting myself out there? or really more interested in doing it the way I want? Hmmmmm…….)

Maybe if there’s another ‘Recycle’ show I’ll enter that. 

Drying in front of the fan.

Looks odd doesn’t it? LOL

Around here they leave some of the old dead tress standing for the Osprey’s to build nests in.

Most of them are in the middle of empty lots, looking rather dejected and lonely.

This one is my favorite. I named him 'Petey'.

As I was crumpling a brown paper bag it started to look familiar and the next thing I knew it was one of the trees!

Stay tuned for the finale, coming soon to this theatre!

Pat & Mike

When I was in third grade two if my classmates were identical twins named Pat and Mike.

The only difference between them were two small moles on Mike’s left cheek.

Apparently the moles were tiny or at least not very noticeable because the adults always had trouble telling the two boys apart.

I never did.

I liked Pat.

He did not return my affections.

Mike liked me.

So much so that one day he showed up on our doorstep stating that he wanted to marry me.

(Humongous diamond ring in hand!)

I stood at the top of the stairs madly waving my arms and shaking my head to let my mother know I was not at all interested in this idea.

So she sent him on his way saying she would relay his offer to me.

I was both disappointed and impressed at the same time.

Disappointed it wasn’t Pat, but impressed that Mike had ridden his bicycle all the way from his house to ours.

It was quite a distance plus it involved crossing Scarsdale road!

And without the crossing guard that was a pretty scary endeavor!

I guess love does conquer all fears! LOL 

WIP ‘s (works in progress)

I haven’t been feeling very verbose lately.

So I’ve been working on a few artsy/fartsy things.

Flitting from one project to another. Not really focusing on any of them.

The Black and Whites are in a state of suspended animation.

I can’t seem to make a decision on what to do with the paper dolls.

And I’m working on a long unfinished project thinking maybe I’ll enter it in the 27^th Annual All Florida Juried Exhibition. The due date is Saturday the 20^th!

Shall I take bets on whether or not I make it on time? LOL

Aunt Leah

I didn’t even know I had an Aunt Leah until I was nineteen years old.

We were in Miami for a long weekend and as we waited for her to pick us up from our hotel I was given a quick character sketch.

She was the family black sheep.

Was a flapper in her youth.

Ran with bootleggers.

Had been married more than four times (they lost count) and it was suggested she didn’t always legally divorce one husband before moving on to the next.

She had written a book about her misspent youth on Long Island (which I searched for when I got home but could never find!)

In other words she was a true eccentric!

She lived up to all my expectations the moment I saw her!

A crazy old lady, bigger than life with a loud voice and a contagious laugh! Her high heels were at least two sizes too big for her feet, she carried a huge straw handbag, had flaming red lipstick that matched her cats eye sunglasses and her dyed too dark for her age black hair piled high on her head!

I liked her immediately!

??????????

Man, the world is ganging up on me lately! 

Look what the dentist gave me! LOL

Sheesh! 

Patsy and Gerald

Grandmother Was Bats**t Crazy: Con’t

One of the ‘chores’ we had when visiting Grandma was taking out the garbage.

She kept the can in the basement.

You never saw a basement like this.

It was pristine!

You could have literally eaten off the floor.

And it was completely, totally, utterly empty except for the garbage can.

The basement floor was painted to within an inch of its life with glossy grey sealant. The walls were glossy white.

And sitting right in the center was the garbage can.

So shiny and new looking you would think it was never used.

She would spread out newspaper on the floor, and the can would be lined with newspaper.

As you filled it with garbage you had to fold down the pages of the newspaper to cover the garbage so it wouldn’t stink.

And the ONLY time we were allowed in the basement was to take down the garbage.

We weren’t allowed to play down there because we might get it dirty!

The basement!

We might get the basement DIRTY!  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Have I mentioned she was OCD?

I Hate When That Happens

I hate it when you wake from a disturbing dream with the same feeling you had in the dream.

I had a very weird dream (even for me, LOL) last night.

I killed a man.

It was someone who was abusing a friend (although which friend was kind of murky.)

I stuck a knife in his gut.

Simple as that.

In the bathroom (where else?)

Then I was rummaging through the house looking for a dress to wear to the police station.

It wasn’t my house and it was very messy with things strewn all about.

And lots of people who were angry with me for what I did.

There were an inordinate number of dressers I had to look through and I couldn’t find any undergarments.

I felt bad about killing the guy, but on the other hand he was abusing my friend.

Talk about ambivalent! LOL

I never did find an appropriate dress, and then Husband woke me up.

Anybody out there want to have a go at dream interpretation? LOL

Bored

What Do You Want To Do When You Grow Up?

“What do you want to do when you grow up?” they would ask her.

“Color!” she would say.

“You can’t!” they’d say. “Coloring isn’t a job, it’s a pastime!”

“You have to pick a job.” they’d say. “Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief.”

“Color!” she would reply.

 “But you CAN’T make a life out of coloring!” they’d say.

“COLOR!” she would shout.

“YOUCAN’T!” they’d say.
“CAN’T!”

“CAN’T!”

“CAN’T!”

“CAN’T!”

“CAN’T!”

 And she would lie on the floor filling book after book with her bright and vivid colors.

Gonna Buy A Paper Doll That I Can Call My Own

I had a brainstorm about making paper dolls from some of my sketches.

Maybe offering them for sale in my Etsy shop.

Apparently these guys didn’t think so much of the idea, as you can tell from their less than thrilled expressions during the photo shoot!

(Proving once again, not all of my ideas are brilliant! LOL)