Just Outside the Door

It's where our chickens have taken up residency. It took them about three months to come up with a group plan, but they seem to have realized that if they hover outside our back door to our deck, look terrifically cute, one of the humans who resides here is likely to go outside with something for them to eat.

Our girls are brilliant...and well fed.

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Fabulously Adorable

On my birthday earlier this week we went out to eat for dinner. It was fabulous family fun. But the fun was not limited to our table. Nope. Because all of a sudden a straw wrapper flew through the air and hit my kid in the neck. All four of us turned to look where it had come from and there was this fabulously adorable curly-haired chick. She caught our gaze and put her head on the table.

Me: "Don't worry about it, I've totally done the same thing before."

She raised her head and smiled in relief. And then she giggled with her equally adorable boyfriend who had obviously been the target of that errant straw wrapper.

Young love...as delicious as the enchiladas I ate that night.

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Twisted

Sometimes pure perfection happens.

I was in the laundry room, which just so happens to be a very tiny room, and my little guy showed up. "Twist and Shout" streamed out of his phone...and that precious kid of mine started to do the twist and sing loudly into a vacuum cleaner extension tube "microphone". Well, of course I had to join in! And the two of us twisted and shouted for the duration of that magnificent song.

Hanging in the laundry room has never been more fun!

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Blue on Blue

I did some jean patching today. It's the sort of thing that's in my sewing skill set.

Dave loves his jeans. He loves them so much that he's rarely, if ever, willing to part with them. So when his beloved jeans get a hole in them, well, I patch 'em. And patch 'em. And patch 'em. One of the jeans is pretty new on the wear scene and it now only sports one patch. Another has two. But the current granddaddy has eight patches. Eight! And those patches are all different shades of blue. And those jeans are my husband's favorite.

And I love this about him.

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Worth Stopping For

I was just looking out my window and a fella was riding his bike by one of my neighbor's houses. He stopped his bike, got off, walked to one of their lovely rose bushes, and took a deep sniff.

He has the right idea, my friends.


Oh, and much gratitude to my neighbors for creating such beauty!

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Thrift Store Dress

I went thrifting over the weekend and found the most adorable little spring/summer dress. It is fabulous and will go great with my cowboy boots!

But....

Due to my laziness I was unwilling to shave (as I thought I oughta) so the perfect weather Sunday went on its merry way leaving only cold and raininess in its wake.

So I wait. And I reconsider the concept of laziness as I gear up for a lovely and sunny spring weekend ahead.


Another lefty challenge painting!

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The Other Side

My right wrist has been hurting for a while so I figured I'd make lemons out of lemonade and take on a personal challenge. I decided to do a series of paintings with my left hand. I've done it before, though not for this reason. This is one of my prior lefty pieces and here is another. Interesting to me how sweet and childlike those pieces are...and how this one is so not.

I wonder what opposite hand creations reveal about us over time.


Look for more lefty pieces this week.

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What Kitty Cat Wants, Kitty Cat Gets

Our cats want in. Then they want out. Then they want in. Then they want out. And on and on and on....

So my brilliant husband installed a cat door. It should all be fine and dandy now. The cats should be totally independent. Right?

Well, perhaps someday, but for now here's how it goes.

The cats want in. We go outside and shove them in the cat door. The cats want out. We shove them out the cat door. And on and on and on....


Our cats sure have well trained humans.

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A Little Drippy

I got my hair cut today. It was awesome as always, but today there was an added bonus. I was in a chair by the front window of the salon and I tell you what, I was pretty much on exhibition. You know, like a fish in a fish bowl. Totally aware of this, I caught my reflection in the mirror, all drowned rat looking from my shampooing and oh, so pale from lack of sun exposure, and went, "Sigh...."

And then I was turned in the chair toward the window. A fella kindly gave me a thumbs up and several folks waved as they strolled by. I felt like I should've done a trick, a flip, jazz hands, something, but the kind folks of Austin had to settle for stationary, drippy, pasty me.

Love my super friendly and accepting town.

Click here to view my gallery.  Most of my paintings are for sale.

 

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Something New...Something Blue

I love trying new things, I really do, but something I just did for the first time ever is not working out so well for me.

You see, I managed to bite my tongue in what appears to be the absolute, perfect way to bruise it good and plenty. While I've bruised pretty much everything else at one time or another (I tend to walk into things a lot), who knew that it was even possible to bruise a tongue?

Anyway, I'll be distracted by this whole event for a while...I figure my entire sense of reality has undergone a shift.

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Color Me Impressed

I had a rare awesome opportunity today to get a glimpse of a part of my kid that I didn't really know about. As you likely know by now, I'm a special ed teacher. My assistant, who is phenomenal, was out today, and my big guy was her substitute. And I tell you what, by the end of the day you could seriously color me impressed.

I've worked with a huge number of subs over the years, some downright awful and some really great. And my kid, the one I have to nag to take the ridiculous number of dishes he's got stashed in his bedroom to the kitchen, totally rocked it today. He was calm, professional, kind, and officially the most adored person my students have met all year.

It was an honor and a privilege to work with my big guy.

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The Gift of Giving

I've come to the conclusion that giving away my art gives me one of the best feelings in the whole wide world. Now don't get me wrong, selling my art is pretty awesome.  But the feeling I get when I give a piece of art away is definitely a notch or two higher than that.  I think I'm definitely going to have to give away my art on an even more regular basis.  What can I say...it's a guilty pleasure.

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Schoolin' the Kid

Totally schooled the kid in a game of "Guess this TV Theme Song".  I felt like a rock star and was ever so thankful that the shows were heavily 80s and earlier.  While my kid should have been in awe (to give him credit, he did say, "You must have watched a lot of TV as a kid."), all I got was this.


Me:  "Man, I rocked at that game!"

Little guy:  "Yeah, but those aren't real songs, mom.  You're terrible at real songs."


...they are, too, real songs.  Sanford and Son intro...now that's a REAL song.

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The Things I Say

For the life of me I have no idea why I'm still surprised by the things I find myself saying.

The little guy had been assigned a lovely sketch assignment many weeks ago.  It was due the next day.  What does he do when I nag him (again) about it?

He toots.


Me:  "Art, not fart."


I think that has a future as a bumper sticker.

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The Dream

A teenager and a young girl walked into the women's locker room.  Here's what I heard.


Big Sister:  "Man, I wish our parents didn't live at our house.  Everything would be so much easier."

Little Sister:  "But that wouldn't last very long because we wouldn't have money."

Big Sis:  "You're messing with the dream.  In this dream we don't have to worry about that.  It's a dream!!!  You're no fun."


I walked outa there smiling at what must be pretty much ever older child's dream and every younger child's area of concern.

Ah...the dreams of childhood.

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Craving the Ruby Red

I was reminded a couple of weeks ago of something I absolutely loved to eat as a kid.  I'd completely forgotten about it until I ran across it on a blog...a blog I usually go to for art inspiration, but there it was!

We ate a lot of odd stuff in my childhood home.  Eventually I went the vegetarian route and avoided all the oddities.  But one thing was truly spectacular.  And I've been eating it lately most every night.

It's broiled grapefruit.  My family thinks I've flipped my cork, but I've welcomed a new evening ritual.  Slice it.  Cut around each of the sections.  Salt it.  Broil it.  Oh, man, delish!

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Who you sayin' has wee little mousy muscles?!?!

My little guy has been going to the gym with me lately.  He's rather funny.  Sort of.  He zooms around doing his own thing and then checks in with me when I'm doing the weight machines.  Really, it's quite lovely.  I mean how many moms have fifteen-year-old sons who don't mind hanging out with them?  I shouldn't complain...really I shouldn't.  But the little toot, along with stopping to chat, always, always makes sure to point out how light the weight is that his mom is using. 


Me:  "Um, dude, you weigh thirty more pounds than I do."

Me:  "Think about it, I'm thirty-one years older than you."

Me:  "Hey!  Check out these guns!"  <me flexing...and hoping I don't give myself a cramp whilst doing so>


I figure this conversation we keep having is simply one of those things that we just do.  He smirks a bit, but mostly smiles.  I complain a bit, but mostly I feel loved.

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