Thoughts of Past Loves

The Holidays are pretty much right here.
Yep.

 Especially since three Christmas movies, in the last three days, between Lifetime and Hallmark, danced their sugar plum sweetness in front of my eyes.  I've pondered over a past love.

Well, I thought he was a past love.  

As time has marched on with twelve drummers drumming, I realize the guy-- no matter, how attracted I thought I was was to him, the guy really was a lump of coal in my stocking.  

I mean, when the two of us first met, the guy was still legally married to his wife.  Only found out  that, when he was married to his second wife. It is funny, because at one point he was serious about marriage to me. Since we both loved to write, he believe we could back to our Midwest roots, live like Bohemians on no money, and bask in the growth of cornfields out our front door.   

Some of the story IS true, however my dad's health was failing fast.  The guy knew how close I was to my dad.  He felt being close to my dad, even if we were dirt poor and watching corn grow would be good. Since I didn't know the guy was married (I had no reason too) I thought his heart was in the right place.

Of course, now,  I wonder how he would have pulled that off.  I thought more about this past love as I checked the Christmas movie guide.  The years passed and he says divorced has since happened with the second wife. I asked him why he wasn't honest about being married.

"It was how you interpreted it" he said.  Huh? Did I mention, we were in God's House, when I asked him?

As I chuckled, I told him to not say that.  Heck, he's the one the said he'd been married a year, six months in and six months to get out. I never saw evidence of a woman at his place. Never thought I needed to interrogate him. With five ladies pretty much dancing in his life, I told him he knew he was married and made a choice to not share that with me. 

The guy apologized. Was he sincere? Maybe. The lump of coal relationship had red flags all over it, yet I chose to deny their wave in the breeze.

Times have changed.  I thank God for clearing out my head.  And I also think Hallmark and Lifetime for having a pretty good Christmas movie line up this year. 

Pass the popcorn. 

A

A Year and Change

Goodness me!  Another year (with some change) has passed since I last wrote.  I apologize because not my intention.  My plan was to be daily or at least write a few times during the week.  Certainly not a year between posts.  I do plan to be better. Plan to....

I look at this blog and tis in need of a few changes. I do smile because I was diligent in the blog's early days. Before my trek onto Facebook, before I ever did my first tweet on Twitter and before Amazon really did sell everything under the sun. 

A couple things If do plan: add a page for my original art.  I want all of you to see what has consumed me, in these last few years. For example: "New Road" on 24x24  canvas, posted here.

Plus, if you want to purchase, there will be such an option.  Must say I am excited to connect in this way again. Although, I've not been here much, I am amazed folks have still stopped by. How cool is that? 

I want this to be a place folks want to stay, interact and enjoy the time as we talk.

Stay tuned....another year won't pass before we meet again...

Best in Show---ME!

You talk about a dream I never once thought would come true because I never did dream it ever!

Yep. Me-when I it comes to art--paint on a canvas aka abstracts, especially. This love of mine has been around since the Autumn of 2015.  Not long in some relationships. However, it took awhile to decide if we really did like each other.  The way we made each other's acquaintance is another story, which I may share sometime.😊  Trust me tho, look in the dictionary for self-taught, and you may see me there! 

In the meantime, I bask in my purple ribbon from the TVAA Gallery in Dallas. The artwork's title is "Interrogation" and the gallery's them was "September Shadows."  I am even more butterfly tickle giddy because this was my third time to be selected to participate in a show!  The Texas Visual Art Association is a place that gives us new/aspiring artists an opportunity to be seen. 

Never thought my art would be in a gallery, not ever thought I would be doing anything artsy except wondering how pretty I could circle whip cream on fresh strawberries. Look, in junior high, when art class became part of our routine, I asked my parents if they would still love me since I got a "C" on  my report card.  My lowest grade ever (up to THAT point).  The "C" was in art. I dreaded going to class for the longest hour in my life. An hour, I would never get back! So, you can tell it's been a quite a journey.

A journey I can only Thank the One Most High for because He knows the plans made for you! 

Until next time....expect the unexpected! 

1042 Days

Yes, 1042 is the number of days since my last post.
I never intended fore such an hiatus from something I did enjoy quite a bit.
I do remember my daily blogs eased even  prior to that day in 2015.
I blame being back in school and having to make a choice. I spent so much time on a computer. I worked full time, and then being a non traditional student with homework at THIS age!  :)   Finding the time AWAY from a computer became a goal.  I needed a break---so the blog was cut.

Yep. This is how the cat looked and how I felt. 

Anyway, I decided I wanted to blog again. So much has happened since we last met. I did graduate university with a Bachelor Science in Sociology. I discovered art. I enjoy creation of the unknown with color on canvas.  

This is pretty bizarre coming from a woman that, as her Junior High self, asked Mom and Dad if they would still love her.  You see, she got a "C" on her report card--in art. The "C" was the lowest grade my Junior High self had ever received. Mom and Dad assured her they would still love her, and to do the best she could.  Art class, was twelve root canals at one time to me. I never took any art after Junior High...none, nada. Then 2013 came 'round, and more specifically 2015, which brings us up to 2018. I will tell you those moments as time goes on.

In the meantime, it feel good to be back.  I plan to post as often as I can and look forward to chatting with you!  I just had wanted to get this first post on the books! ....and as I close, here here is a sampling of some of my art work--I LOVE abstracts--there is no right nor wrong!

Until next time....make sure you say your prayers and get some ice cream!

LL

A Daughter WithOut Mom on Mother's Day

To avoid the greeting card aisle filled with nothing but Mother’s Day cards, rivaled my loveless affair with liver and onions. Even as I zoomed past cards, I swear the words, “To My Dear Mother,” screamed after  me.  As people picked out the most perfect Mother’s Day card, envy, not blood, flowed through my veins.

Did these people know how blessed they were?

My mother died from yellow liver atrophy almost three months to the day after elective  surgery. Mom was forty-three years old and I just thirteen. Death robbed Mom of her life. Death robbed me from a life of having a mother.  In a blink of an eye, the new normal became my dad and me.  Even at thirteen years old, I wondered how we would survive. Mom never hesitated to spank me, yet I would endure thousands spanks a day, if God would bring her back.

My simple ice cream filled world melted. No more Mom and me, ‘girls only’ nights when Dad worked late. Mom  drove as far as time and ice cream took us. We sang, mostly off key, to songs blasted from the car radio.  No more would I watch Mom put on eyeshadow and wonder if I would ever be as pretty. Her death made Mother’s Day became just another Sunday without football.

For twenty years, I let mom’s death become the blame for my stumbles. My confidence waned as I doubted my self worth. Mom had my first and best cheerleader. She was my nurturer and strongest female I knew.  And now my mother was gone.

Even though life moved on,  I so lagged behind.  Somehow I had to deal and learn from her death, because I wanted to live my own.  I was sick and tired of being sick and tired of not being able to change the past. I had to embrace her death and move on.  I went to the bible and God’s Word opened my mind with Psalms 121 (NIV): “I lift up my eyes to the hills-where does my help come from?”

No longer, do  I avoid the Mother’s Day card aisle.  Like everyone else, I hunt for the perfect card.  How can I not show thanks to the woman who said at the end of each day with “Mama love”?  As  we savored
ice cream, this woman explained  how  a girl’s bloom into a young lady should not be scary, yet celebrated.  So I  smile with memories abound and sign my chosen Mother’s Day card. It is then tucked away with the others.

Although our life together was just thirteen years, that life was more valuable than rubies. My mother’s spirit dances within me every second, every minute of  every day. I am truly blessed.  I know  we’ll see each other again. Our laughter and songs will once again  fill the air, with some ice cream for good measure. Praise God.

(c)2015

PS. And the photo is my mom and me :)
#Mother's Day

On the 6th Day

I tried to pull up carpet. By myself. Well, cut up one piece at a time.  How'd I do?

Failed--with a capital F.

OK, caught a YouTube video of a young lady cutting up her carpet. Her, dogs had done doggy stuff on the carpet--and just had to come up.

I could relate because cats rule my chateau--they've been ill or their litter box wasn't to their liking, and beside the carpet, which was in the house when I bought it in 2008,  was a light color I never liked--ya know, the carpet showed everything!  :( So up it has to come.

Underneath there is some orangish reddish tile with dark freckles. I'm sure it was a really hot pattern...once, in some previous century...Yet, the more I gandered at it--one of my rooms, where my desktop PC resides, is not carpeted. This tile (or is it linoleum?)  is throughout  the room. Honestly, I thought the tile could be something I would buy. Why? Because the color is different, and I like different.

The orangish reddish color would be pretty all shined up, with color compliments on walls, pillows-yea, even if took me forever to cut up the carpet, I would be empowered, I got giddy and would have been giddy-er--only if the...

CORRECT carpet cutting knife was in my possession. I bought a cheapy one, OK, I spent a dollar on it. Yes, a buck.  Roll your eyes. Reprimand me. Take away my Skippy's Natural Honey Roasted Peanut Butter. In my moment the surge to be empowered..

My buck utility knife marked just a line in the carpet I know so want gone. Pressed down, hard. Nothing,  but a line. A cat thought the line in the carpet was fun to bat.

At least the cat was thrilled.

Stay tuned.

....and it begins!

Psalm 20:4-5

New Century Version (NCV)

May he give you what you want

    and make all your plans succeed,

and we will shout for joy when you succeed,

    and we will raise a flag in the name of our God.

May the Lord give you all that you ask for.

Start up your engines!

As 2013 Year Ends..

Remember the hullabaloo of what Y2K would do to all mankind? 

A friend recently fessed up how she and her husband made provisions in their home, just in case something DID happen!

Now we are ready to step 14 years into the 21st century- those same

friends made provisions to stay home tonight with their kitties.

And me?

Headed to Inspiring Body of Christ Church, as I've done the last 

few New Year's Eve for a Word,  music which is almost

like being a Earth, Wind and Fire concert without the 

booze, and about 4000 of my closest and dearest friends :)

Let's get this 2014 party started!

Sweet Sugar Smile

 A memory from jammin' to this tune at a 7th grade dance. Thought I was sizzlin' in my plaid culottes.... :) yet, jealous because my BFF got to actually hold HANDS with a boy!

Glass Vase Blues....

Glass vase bought at one of my fave thrift stores
Cover with two different Martha Stewart
Blue gloss glass paints, and dotted with
Martha Stewart Pearl white glass paint.
Vase placed in a cold oven that was
Then set 350 degrees and baked for 30 minutes
Cool the vase in the oven for at least an hour
Before you handle. 

July 9, 1928 was Monday

...and the day my mom was born. I wonder what my grandmother--my mom's mother-thought when she held her new baby girl in her arms. Sad to know I outlived both my mom and my grandmother. 

My mom was a discinplinarian. Yep--Mom could spank--and spank REAL good--yet I never once doubted her love for me. She called me her "Angel."

Lots of life lessons missed since Mom and I were on Earth together for just a little while. However, I do smile when I think of us getting ice cream at our town's version of a Dairy Queen, then drive all over who knows where in that old blue Chevy Mom named Daisy June. 

We'd sing to songs on the radio, laugh and have our 'girl talk time.' I hate the fact my mother died when I was barely into my teens.  I try to remember eventho our time was not long, what we had lasts a lifetime. 

I am blessed. 

Happy Birthday, Mommy.

First Morning of July

Was unusually cool for Dallas.
To open a window in July--well, is pretty unheard of--except for today. As I got ready for work, two Tuxies, who are brother and sister, took full advantage of the cool down:

.....and tomorrow morning may be even better! Stay tuned. 

Dallas Summer Day

Watermelon kitty chill...

Kinda says it all, huh? 

Friday Take On

Such an adventure to hold conversations with a man born in 1985.  

My life is their history. In 1985, Live Aid was on MTV--which I think still played only music videos. He has never known life without a computer or cell phone. Gasoline has always been over a dollar. Never known vinyl, unless his parents played some of their "old school" music.

When  look at him, I see a grown man, yet I see a kid who was born when I was out trippin' the light fantastic. By 1985, I moved back to my hometown for the THIRD time.  For whatever reason I wasn't quite making it on my own and my Ramen Noodles had done me in. While he was new to the world, wrapped in love with his parents.

Then I see the grown man again. And I wonder why in the world didn't they look like him when I was 28??? 

Summer Read 1997

OK.

Although the Summer of '97 was 16 years ago, this book is brand new for me:

I love Sandra Brown. 

I admit not being much into Ms. Brown's (or really anybody else's) romance novels, yet her mystery/suspense novels have been favorites of mine since--well, maybe a bit before 1997.  Ms. Brown's stories are great page turners--which engage my long dormant love for reading and I pray continues to ignite my even longer dormant zest for my own writing.

Stay tuned.

Tabby On Tuesday...

Naw. Not a one. 

Glass Vase Vamp

One Salvation Army Thrift Store glass vase displays its four sides. Martha Stewarts Gloss Glass paint was used on my newest crafty piece!  Specifically, I used two blues: Pool and Greek Tile, with one yellow: Yellow Jacket.  I think Martha's glass paints are the creamiest and yummiest paints I've used.

 Instead of painting the colors on the vase, with a sponge or brush, I squeezed the paint directly on the vase from the bottle. The plastic paint bottles have a pointy end, which makes things easier. Working with one side at a time, I squeezed each color in random this way/that way lines. And then comes the FUN part!

Rolled up a piece of Saran Wrap (or any plastic wrap)  and began to dab the paint over the vase. Think as if you're sponge painting. Some sides I squeezed out more blue, another side more yellow. I think the Saran Wrap dab gives a cool and different texture/look than sponge painting does. Who knew?

 Since the paint seemed pretty thick (next time I may not use as much paint), I let the vase dry overnight.  The next morning, as I got ready for work, I popped the vase in a cold oven, set to 350 F degrees to bake for 30 minutes.  After baking, I left the vase in my oven to cool.

What a nice surprise to come home to!   

**I love getting to learn my inner-crafty self** 

Ham it Up Sunday

I must be getting into the Food Network more than I have in the past. Why? Because my stove got turned on again. Nope, not for another pie. In fact, I am await Big Valley's Egg Pie verdict tomorrow at work. Turns out Big Valley put a photo of my pie on his Instagram page--so nice surprise there.

OK, back to why my stove was on again today. I fried up some prosciutto.

Yes, I know the Italian ham is usually served uncooked (like the photo below), yet I wasn't ready to cross over on the gondola yet. Please be patient with me.  :)  In the meantime, I must say the  fried prosciutto

was crispy and quite tasty--a big ol' forks up from me. 

Stay tuned. 

Magic Egg Custard Baked

Happy to report the Egg Custard Pie got baked-although an adventures occurred before and during the actual process. Wednesday night, I rounded up all my ingredients, check to make sure I had a glass pie pan (the majority of the recipes called for glass) and got ready to be Betty Bake Off Thursday night.

Come Thursday night, I was hot and tired and wanted to whip this pie up. I opened my cabinet to get my pie plate. Imagine my surprise this was NOT a pie plate, just a round dinner plate. In my "for-sure-ness" Wednesday, I just saw a plate, on the shelf, 'knew' it was THE pie plate and didn't bother to pick it up.

Ya know what folks say about 'assume'--well, my forehead could barely fit all of it. What to do? Where could I go, have the least amount of hassle of parking, crowds, long lines for just one item?  The Goodwill. Yep. Just 5 minutes--if that--up the street. Picked up a 9 inch Pyrex pie pan for a buck 99. Happy baker was I!

OK, my recipe called for butter: 2/3 cup of butter, melted. How many tablespoons is that?  So I head to the iPad. Learned 2/3 cup of butter is  almost 11 tablespoons.  Melt the butter and about to pour it in my filling.  Something said, "Look at that recipe again. "

Good thing, because the recipe didn't call for 2/3 cup, oh no--it was 2/3 STICK which is just 6 tablespoons! A 5 tablespoon difference! What did I do with the butter just melted? Put it in a jar inside the fridge for topping popped corn. After all that, the baking went off without a hitch. My oven seems to burn a bit more on one side, so I covered the pie with tin foil.

My co-worker, Big Valley, said he'd dig into the pie tonight, with big ol' glass of milk. I think when it's our work, we see flaws. Honestly, that is why I didn't snap a photo for you all to see. With the way Big Valley beamed as he checked out t the Egg Custard Pie--maybe the flaws won't be as noticeable.

Big Valley's verdict is what I wait for.  Always enjoyed making pies. I wonder if  Egg Custard will be added to my repertoire.  Stay tuned.

Egg Bake Soon

There here is a slice of Egg Pie. I admit to never made one. Except come Thursday night, if all goes well, that story will change.

A co-worker, I'll call Barkley, perked up when I mentioned I like to bake pies. Before I finished he asks, "Can you make an Egg Pie?" I stare at him. There is such a thing? I asked. Turns out yes...yes there is. I searched online and found this photo. Barkley announced "THAT's IT!" and about devoured the screen.  Barkley said  Egg Pie, was similar to a Chess Pie, only richer.

Now, I admit to also not knowing what a Chess Pie was until I moved to Dallas. However, I have since baked a few Chess Pies, They've received forks up and empty plates. So Thursday night I will bake this for Barkley and take it to work on Friday.

Barkley is 6'5, 28 years old, played college football and is on a workout regimen that makes this Saturday his 'cheat day' with food. He has the whole menu planned, except the dessert.  When I mentioned baking pies, Barkley offered to pay for his  beloved Egg Pie.

Stay tuned.