Saturday, May 13, 2017


 In early April, we had a crazy robin who was attacking our windows. I don't have them clean yet-it's too cold to open them. This robin would go from window to window hitting his reflection, and leaving beak marks all over. I worried he'd knock himself out. But instead, he and his mate, Ethyl, made their nest in our second floor guest room window ledge.
 Here's Fred, looking up at the nest from the ground.

 On a different topic-our feeders are busy all day. Note the disgusted look on the face of the grackle. They would love it if no one else was allowed to eat there. We have to buy 16 cakes of suet every week until baby season is over.....But the rewards are worth it!
 Here's two mourning doves that were busy near the feeders, just cleaning and hanging out.
 And here's Norton, our dove.
And here's what's in the nest now, at Fred and Ethyl's place...

Thursday, May 4, 2017

Where your heart is.

 I found myself in a time that I needed to go back to the place I was born. Looking for I don't know what, needing to walk the roads, smell the air, see the familiar trees, the barns, the house.
 My brother and his wife own it now-the place I wrote about in the post, "A feather, caught."
They have worked so hard on this place that we all love. Our dad built that house. He actually cut the trees and had them sawed up to build it.
 The old milk barn is not owned by our family now. It's down the road about a minute's walk from the house. I spent a lot of time there when I was a kid-my brother too, of course. Now I just love the rustic beauty, the time shown in the barn's 'face' - like beautiful wrinkles.
I will paint from my photos.

 This is the other barn, near my brother and his wife's house. They restored the barn-made sure it will last another 100 years or more.
 I came back because I needed to look out in order to look within.

 My brother made the pond bigger. This is where our grandpa took us fishing. The farm dog, Lassie, was always with us. We never kept the fish we caught.
 When I was a child, I saw this. I saw those hills.
 Here are the remnants of the same lilac bush where my daddy found me and played tea party with me. I know my brother saved what he could of it, because I told him that memory. We treasure those memories; to remember is to hear his voice, see him again. It's been so long since our Dad passed, and my brother was too young to remember him. So my memories are important to him too.
I love that about my brother.
Where is home?

It's full of people and laughter, some tears.
It's always inside somewhere
longing to get out again and play.
A place protected from time~
it's in your heart...

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

wonderful things....

 I love Tim Holtz, and here is a doozie-a pack full of die cut photo people and dogs-I haven't even looked at it all yet. The possibilities are endless for creating with this stuff-but I just love looking at it!

 And then there's the wonderful-ness of a busy studio with about 10 different things going on at once. I'm working on a submission to Haute Handbags, and I have an idea cooking to submit to Prims later on this summer....These things give me projects and keep me motivated.
(Ricardo the goat is watching TCM)
I love a messy studio!
Pure wonder-full.

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

A Feather, Caught...a post revisited

 I remember a lilac bush I played in when I was 4 years old. Like all lilacs, it sent out shoots and made itself wider. The really old branches died off and made paths just the right size for a little girl to have tea parties and be hidden from the world.
 My daddy would find me in the lilac bush.
He took the time to find me.
Then, my world was my Daddy.
Love is not big enough to describe it-what my little heart felt for him.
The last memory I have of him: "Daddy, are you coming back?" I ask him. It is quiet in the room. The out of place sound of a jet flying over the house fills the silence. I hear it fade, fade away.
"Yes, I'm coming back."
He had been gone for long periods of time for cancer treatments. Back then, they were crude for his type of cancer-cobalt and operations.
Next memory-I look up into strange faces towering over me-sad faces in our house. Daddy is gone, and all I know is I am alone. My mother, brother and I have to figure something out that there is no answer for.
Maybe you are wondering what the point of this story is if you've read this far.

 I've been reading a book about how to tell people about your faith in Christ. Writing my story in 100 words or less is one of the objectives in the book. Obviously, I failed on that point.
I still don't have all the answers. I still hurt. I hurt others sometimes. I am not a very good example of a Christian at times. I have lived much of my life for myself and have made bad choices.
 All I know is that there was a time when I could see I needed God for what He did for the world. I just simply agreed with His verdict- I was lost, I did bad stuff (sinned), I needed the connection Jesus made by His death in my place.
This is really me-my Daddy built the house we were living in.

I was a feather, caught. No longer drifting in the world-
His love caught me-
it arrested me by its huge significance.
Love - it's all about love.
About a Daddy that will never leave, or grow old and die, or get sick and die.
A perfect Daddy too, and One that speaks today through His Word, the Bible.
Matthew 18:3..."Truly I say to you, unless you repent (change, turn around) and become like little children [trusting, lowly, forgiving] , you can never enter the kingdom of heaven at all."

Monday, March 27, 2017

a little bit odd thing to do ....

 Of course, painting sticks isn't a new decorating idea at all-but I've liked it whenever I see it in magazines. I like sticks!
Gather some dried ones with no bark. You don't want critters of the 6 or 8 legged kind in your house. They live under the bark sometimes.
 I didn't bother to prime the wood-it didn't matter to me if it took a few coats-but I found one coat using craft paint worked great. You have to wait for one color to dry before painting another. The paint will dry fast on very dry wood.
 I tried more than 3 colors and found I really didn't like it. Seemed to detract from the effect I wanted-which was kind of understated. But by all means-get crazy if that's how you feel!!!
I chose black, gray and white.
Then I sanded them after a day of letting the paint dry. I used fine grit sand paper so a lot of wood wouldn't be taken off.
I have no idea what I'll do with them yet-but I like them!

Sunday, March 26, 2017

three more coloring pages

These are for your own non-commercial use-not to be reproduced in any form.
They are copyrighted works-do not use for any other purpose.