March blows it mighty winds and the full moon is making a it;s second highest high tide in written time.

This was a great title.
I did survive the day.

Fun in the Summer

Esmeralda -my first cat and best friend.

I never had children. I married at 40 and it was never an issue with me only my mother.
Any regrets, up to now no. But, now all my friend have grandchildren. Grandchildren looks like alot of fun to play with. Also, since they are only a rent a child (for a few hours), I don't think I would feel penned in. Neither of my nieces have children. This is driving my sister insane.

Cats, I was given Esmeralda by a man I worked with at the Boston Phoenix. He already had 3 cats, 2 dogs, and one rabbit in his studio apartment on Marboro Street in Boston. This herd did not seem to brother his wife. Esmeralda was a kitty, a coon kitty. Pretty and fuzzy.  I fell in love at first sight. I had to adopt her. Besides, I was saving her from that fuzzy, large nimbly, 10 pound rabbit.

I was in my twenties. I lived in Brookline with roommates.  Martha had worked with me at the Coop in Cambridge. She invited me to live with her and the roomies. The other roomies were the Katz twins, Sue and Ellen. Sue worked at the Boston Phoenix. She worked in the Art Department with the very cool 70s crew. Ellen was engaged to Bob, the student architect. Bob shared a room with Ellen.
Our building was a very old brick apartment building. When it first was built in the 20s, it would have been swanky. This was the 70s and it now was rent controlled. It was in bad repair. We had a land lord who would take vacations, after he shut off the heat in our building and put on a big lock on the boiler room's room. He was not a nice guy.

On the other had, Drab as our apartment was it was huge.  It had two bathrooms, 3 bedrooms, a double sized living room, a strange room off the living room filled with boxes, a dinning room, and a large kitchen. There were three buildings side by side in this complex. But, the architect designed the units so that the back bedrooms were not as wide as the front room, and were built  in an open U shaped. The next bedroom apartment was 25 feet from my bedroom. We had many windows, and since we were up on Summit Ave high up the hill, we had greats views and wonderful cooling winds in the summer. The winter was cold but, we were young.

Returning from two weeks in Europe

Everyone has a reason to travel. In the 70s, I spent a year traveling in Europe. This month, I returned and spent two weeks in Amsterdam, Brugg, Luzancy and Brussels's River Cruise that ended back in Amsterdam.
I did not know until I returned home from the current trip, that I was reliving my old trip, and a healing out my past with my new trip.
Each trip or vacation has a special feel to it.  Europe of the 70s was about growing up, experiencing new cultures, foods, languages and also discover art. The trip last month, was the first return to Europe since I turned 50. We celebrated on an ex-soviet spy ship that took us from Iceland to Greenland.  It was to be my last vacation while I still enjoyed working in the Travel Industry.
We started to think about another europe trip about three years ago. My sister-in-law Betsey had sent my husband a picture of his great Uncle Arthur's grave stone in the tiny village of Luzancy, France.
Arthur was the son of Cyrus Dallin the famous Boston sculptor. My husband is Cyrus's great grand son.  Arthur was born in Paris, when Cyrus was spending a year in Paris studying art.
When France jumped into World War 1, Arthur volunteer for the Ambulance Service. After the war he was awarded on of France's highest metals. Arthur moved back to the US and became a very famous stained glass artist around New England.  When France entered WW2, Arthur joined the French Foreign Service. He died in a battle in Luzancy, France. No one in my husband's family had ever visited his grave in France.
So, we started to talk about going to Luzancy to find his grave. We had a few false starts and then this summer, we received a brochure with a river cruise that started in Brussels and ended in Amsterdam.
Our planning was all last minute. We got the last cabin  on the river cruise and then booked three air b & b's: Amsterdam,  Brugg, and a small village next to the tiny village of Luzancy. A friend gave us two Delta buddy passes so, we could go roundtrip standby Boston to Amsterdam.

Lighting up the pixals in my brain or why I love Museums.

Since I have not received any updates if you love my bad jokes or not; I am attaching some Art for your eyes. Personally, there is nothing more exciting to me that going into an art gallery or museum.

I walk in with a museum, and start looking around at the art,architecture, or the people. My mind quickly absorbs the colors, textures, and features. It is as if someone turns on the pixal in my brain. The pixals come on slowly like a long tube neon light. The light radiates from the center and soon a strong light is on. 

NAA grand opening of Sculpture Garden

Grand Opening of the Outdoor Sculpture Garden behind the Newburyport Art Association

Gift Items in Art Association Gift Shop

Gloucester Downton Vegetable Garden Art

A Spirited Friday Night with my cousin.

The woman holding the mike in front of the audience "Anyone here lose someone by the name of Edward who might be sending out a message?"  I raise my hand, my hand goes ignored. The Spirit Medium continues "Anyone here lose an Edward? Does the name Katy mean anything to you? He says you have been writing a lot and he is proud of you." My hand still goes unnoticed. The Spirit Medium whose name is  Maureen starts talking to a family across the aisle from me. For more than a moment, I think she should have come over to me. Edward is my father's name. He died almost ten years ago at the age of 92. He contracted cancer and fought a strong battle till the end. The chemo therapy killed all his protective cells. He alternated his last days fighting pneuma, hospitalization, more chemo, more pneuma in a killing circle. He was a fighter like no other fighter at 92. He was not willing to give in and be away from the love of his life, my mother, Evelyn. It was love at first site.  He went to a single's camp for a weekend. He say my mother across the room. He asked around about her, found out that she seeing another man at this camp. So, dad found the man and thanked him for taking care of his gal, while he was working during the week. It was years before Dad told mom what he had told her boyfriend that night. He asked her to marry him on their first dinner date, she did not want to seem to anxious, so, she waited to say yes until their second date. What a sweet pair they were.
I want to believe that it was my Dad, Edward who was looking for me through the Spirit Medium.
During Dad's last year, I took many plane trips down to Maryland. I saw Dad at his condo, and his many hospital rooms. He died on a weekend that my sister and husband went away for two days to rest. I was not there. The morning he died, I had a dream that he came to me and said goodbye. So, the Edward spirit in the auditorium could have been him. If he was able to get into my dream, I think he would have no problem finding me in an auditorium a few miles from my home.
The medium continues around the room. Anyone lose a love one to drugs? A crowd of people to the front of the room and one by one she asks them if their love one's name is......, etc. When she finishes with this group, she now asks any one lose a relative to suicide by a gun, and later, asks if there are any people who lost a relative to hanging. Only two people stand for the hanging, which, I was surprised that there would be anyone who would fit into that category.
She relays messages from children who passed at very young ages, to old parents, aunts, and other assorted people dealing with a lose. During this period, I was still hoping it was Edward, my eyes start tearing. I am in a fog, and I am no longer attentive to the Medium.

Smell of fall, sounds of Monk, and a relaxing bubble bath.

Fabulous fall day of walking thru the woods, listening to Monk, and having a luxurious soaking bath. I have not written or published since we returned from our two week trip to Amsterdam, Brugg, Luzancy, Brussels, Antwerp, Rotterdam,  and return to Amsterdam.
We had a fabulous time. I had not done such a train, trolly and car trip in Europe since the early 70s.
Things have changed there, but, I have changed also. Wow, 45 years is a long time away. Time does goes quickly once you reach a certain age and what ever, that age is....I am there. At this age, there are the usual aches and pains. The years of knowledge have built up in my mind and have developed into a mature wisdom.

An Early Morning Summer Delight

My gardens are ready for harvesting. Plenty of dill, thyme, lemon grass, and tarragon-the king of all herbs. It has been a long, hot, dry, buggy summer. At times we had more ants living in the house than outside. Damaged shrubs from the record breaking winter snow falls are just now starting to try and heal themselves. My gladiolas are tall, proud and providing me with beautiful bouquets.
Our baby humming birds are playing and exercising their tiny wings to get ready for their long migration south. I have not seen any male hummers lately, so their early departures has already taken place. The humming birds are a joy all summer. Two summers ago a chickadee started drinking the water in the tiny tupperware ant cup over the feeder. Last summer, the titmouse learned the drinking trick. Early this spring, the chickadees started standing on the perches of the humming bird feeder and indulging in a sweet treat. It took a micro minute for the  flocks of chickadees and titmice to start a long line to drink up the sugar water. I worry that this is not good for their health, but, they sure love sucking sugar water.
 A cherry tomato plant on the deck  is taller than me.  The plant is filled with pods of bright orange sweet delights.
I try to  keep my thoughts  present filled in the glory of  summer. I want to not think of the seasons that are soon coming. Today, I watered the gardens and enjoyed the bounty of summer. My garden smiled at me and I smiled back. It is a joy to have a garden.

Nature teaching us lessons on life and death.

A quiet maine day, I sat on the deck and enjoyed the quietness and my ability to be still with nature and myself. Out of the corner of my left eye, I spotted something large flying near me. To my surprise, a large dragon fly landed on my left arm below my shoulder. I very slowly turned my head to view this lovely creature. The dragon fly shifted his weight  and balanced on his back legs. He turned to me, and I watched his Japanese face mask. For twenty minutes, we relaxed together. He was more comfortable and relaxed than I was. I was starting to get a cramp in the left side of my neck from straining my back to watch him. He weighted almost nothing. I could feel his tiny feet holding onto my skin. The afternoon sun was very strong, and I had a very good look at his four wings and they glowed yellow in the sun light. I stretched my neck, and he flew off and attached his self to the wooden shingle of the cabin. I was able to go inside, get my camera and take a few shots of him.

We woke up in the fishing cottage to a dead wood thrush on our deck. For almost a week we had enjoyed the flute like sound of this small bird. The wood thrush is rarely seen. But if you are lucky to have a thrust in your neighborhood, you will hear one of nature's sweetest songs.

Nature shows us how beauty is very fragile, how life forms come in all shapes and sizes.  Life comes to us, and then death arrives and takes life away.  Beauty should not die. But, beauty is not for ever. There are many beautiful people I have know who have died. Beauty should not die.  But beauty does die. It is natures way of teaching us. Nature shows us that life can be fragile, and sometimes very short.

It is a roll of the dice. These creatures teach me that each second of each minute of my life is equally as important as the last second of my life. For each second could be my last second. Live life to the fullest nature teaches us. Catch the beauty around you. Enjoy the stillness, laugh often and laugh hard.

You have today, maybe tomorrow. Use it wisely.

Saturday on a long weekend meditations...

I was born without the gene for "fashion". For decades, people I know will edit my outfits.
The other day, we were birding out on Plum Island, my husband critiques my birding outfit. I had gone biking the day before, so, I went birding in my "biking jacket".  He did not tell me that I offended the birds, but, the correct dress was dull colors. Ok, my biking jacket is ultra neon green in color. I was a wee bit bright.  Please, don't call in the fashion police.

When I began Junior High, my mother scheduled an appointment for me with a foot doctor.  He had insoles made up and I had to put them in my new pair of lace up  & ugly shoes. I had, without a doubt, the ugliest, most unfashionable shoes in all of Forest Park Jr. High. Kids noticed them and had some cute things to say about my orthopedic shoes. Since those days, I have always made sure that my shoes had a flair to them.

My sister once asked me "If I had no fashion sense or if I just did not care how I looked. I told her, I would need to think about it and I would get back to her.

During the 70's , I moved out of my parents home into a rented 1/2 house. For the first, I could wear whatever I wanted to wear. So, I wore orange & white polka-dotted mini A lined dress.I knew that I was dressed like a cool person and it made me so happy. But them denim levy's came in fashion and I have never looked back. I love denim pants. The last almost forever, and their care is simple. Wash and wear.


Clothes to me are not a statement about who or what I am. Clothes cover my naked body, keep me warm in the winter, and that about sums it up. Clothes are a function to me. Plain and simple. Just a function. May be this concept makes me a fashion render.  I really don't care. It is what it is and needs no more explanations.

Bob Newhart and Blazzing Fires in Winter

Roaring Fire in the Fireplace

The Bob Newhart TV Show is on in the bedroom above me.

Bob Newhart had such a sharp, cutting Edge humor.

Snow and more snow....We now are #8 in the history books under the subject most snow totals in Boston. We are 24 miles from Boston...we were dead center of the last two weeks of storms. We received more snow that Boston. Today we got 2 feet, but, the last 2 weeks my in house weather reporter has advised that we got over 80 in total. "Yes, that is a lot...." my in house weather reporter advised me.

Tonight was to be David's famous cabin fever dinner party. Not only was he going to cook  one of Tender Crop's home grown, home baked pork pie; but, he also was coming to pick us up in front of our house.  He roasted some turnips that sounded delicious and in the oven, he was all set to put the handmade  shortbread in the oven.

The only problem was that our long driveway had 2-3 feet of snow on it. Our two cars were parked at the street end of the driveway.  The cars were also snowed in. The "plow" bump at end of the driveway was about four feet high. I called to say that I was debating if I should come. I had hurt my knee-maybe a tear in the old meniscus. Wendy told me that David had been preparing this party dinner all day and that they would not talk to me until June if I did not attend. My decision was quick, I told her we were on our way down the driveway to meet David's car pickup service. It was a trek down to the cars, and at the cars, we were in a snow drift that had my car on one side and the brushes on the other side. WE had about 1 1/2 feet to maneuver.  The Snow Plow Bump without snow shoes or poles was more of a challenge.  I landed backwards into the area of my day lilly bed. It took Glenn a few long reaches to crank me out of the garden/snow bed.

But we now were on the street waiting for David. As usual, I had a hat, scarf, gloves, down coat w/ hood w/ fake fur.  Glenn had no hat, a short jacket, light pants.  We both had our rubber boats on. I wore fleece long socks on my feet...I have no idea what type of socks wore or if he wore any thing on his feet.

We waited. The wind off Quill Pond blew fresh waves of snow in our faces.  It was snowing at what I would say with a kick on its heels. We waited.  After 15minutes, I noted Glenn was freezing.  I gave him my hat and pulled on my hood. We waited. Finally, we gave up. Glenn reached the house in record time; he really must have been cold. I plowed away and by the time I got to the front door, I  could hear David's voice on our answering machine. His car got stuck  sideways in his driveway and that he was walking down.  Very soon after that, David arrived looking like a homeless person and being soaking wet. We dried him off, offered him tea, chocolate or water.  He was serious about sitting for a minute and them walking home slower( it was dark now).  Called and verified he was on his way home. I turned on my oven and started to reheat last night's potted chicken,rice and asparagus (fresh).
It was the dinner party that was not to be.

I always wondered what hurricane parties were like. Snow bound with a real western man from Colorado sounded so good and so much fun. Especially since we have been penned up for the most of two weeks, with a hour here or there out for good behavior when we had two breaks in the snow fall.

This winter with no plow coming, and Glenn shoveling the driveway adds a level of stress to the retirement of himself just two months ago.

Tension plain tension.  He questions me "Why am I always on the coach napping".  "What's for dinner? What's for breakfast? What's for lunch?  I love him with my entire heart.  24/7 these last two weeks have been stressful. I have to admit that.

Not swimming-cause I am not getting out of the house.  I lost track of who many school days have been canceled. Tonight, the Governor shut down the MBTA because they could not handle all the snow on the rails, trails, and trollies.  This is the 21st Century and Boston still has trollies.  Ha, and they want to get the Olympic to come to Boston. Are they out of their minds?

I can calm myself so much easier, in the three other seasons. I can go outside, breath air in and out, and I can be with nature.

Oh, did I mention it is also time to start last year's taxes.

Danger Will Robinson

Weather headline, tomorrow, going outside will feel like going into the a blizzard in the Arctic. Wicked cold and winds howling and followed by waking up to the teens all day long...straight down. Steady snow now, but around 2=3am in morning, we get back lash bands of wicked storm. 5-6 hours of snows. Failing 8-12 inches of snow. Off wind winds strong as a category 2 hurricane.
Blah, blah, and blah. Power outages...on Cape Ann most likely. Winds strong till Monday am.
Danger, danger Will Robinson.

Three Water Pictures

Brussels Junior Sailing Club Fall 2015

Behind the Scene Tour of Parker River Wildlife Refuge Winter 2016

Late Winter Boating on Little
River Newbury 2016

I picked out the three pictures above to submit to my photo club's monthly themed slide show. Water was the theme this month.

Let me start with the Brussels picture.

Last fall we traveled to Amsterdam, Brug, Luzancy, France (to visit my husband's great uncle's WW11's grave), and Brussels to pick up a Croisi Europe's River Boat Cruise that was titled "The Treasures of the North; Through two extraordinary countries: Belguim and the Netherlands."
We flew into Amsterdam and had a few fun days touring, drinking great beers, and eating fabulous aged cheeses.

Soon, we boarded a train from Amsterdam to Brussels. It was not until we were on our way, that we realized this was the train that a few months earlier was hijacked and three US soldiers stopped the hijacker in his tracks and saved the day. As we approached the out skirts of Brussels, my husband say large  tent cities that we quested were immigrant housing. At the time we were not aware that  we were seeing the  beginning of the greatest immigrant migration since WW11.

We both had been to Brussels in the 70s, not together, we would not meet until many years later.
My taste at 20 was rather eclectic. I remember loving the french fries, the cheeky Manneken Pis, and the truly amazing architecture of the Grand Place. The city was alive, happy and free. Also, the Grand Place was holding a market of pet birds. Hundreds of birds in little cages. That was my memory.

We arrived at the main Station in Brussels and took a transfer train to the North Station. We arrived to a dirty old station and purchased tickets for the next trolly to go north. We had a long wait. People were sitting and standing in every available space. A gang of twenty year old arabic men were playing a game of soccer with a improvised ball made out of a Starbuck's paper coffee cup. We found two seats and tried to relax. The seat next to me became available and a very jumpy type man sat next to me  looking for money.

I did not feel comfortable, and got up to find a quieter, calmer place.  I found the Starbucks and we moved our selves and baggage. The Starbucks had not walls so, we sat a table by the window. We placed our bags by the window under the table and slide our chairs into the window.

There we many youthful men wandering from table to table. Every one around us spoke arabic. At one table an elder man was talking to a woman and her children. She was very upset, the man was giving her advise and she was staring intently at him. Everything and everyone around us was very intense.


Finally, our trolly was called and we moved outside a got on a trolly that was headed North towards where our boat was docked. For the next half hour, we passed Arabic stores, women in full covered gear, and a very crowded & bustling outside scene.  Inside the trolly, we watched more of the same type of an environment. This was not the Brussels that we knew in the 70s. I was nervous and it was not until we got to our destination that my husband told me how nervous he was. Once we left the trolly, we walked to the boat landing. On our way, we passed the Brussel's Sailing Club. We were now in a safe, happy environment. For the first time all day, I took out my camera and started taking pictures of children set up their small boats for a race.


Newbury, I live in Newbury because it is a very safe place, quiet, pretty, near woods, beaches, and one of the best birding sites in the country.  Parker River Wildlife Refuge is my favorite birding venue. We had tried to get on the Behind the Scenes Tour for years.

We live near the Little River and walking over the bridge on a winter day, I was surprised to see a motor boat in the chilly water.

Molding the new image of me at 67.

My life, choices, and style has changed many, many times as I grew up and grew old. What works at 10 might not work at 40; but it might work at 70. The introverted, shy, tongue tied teenager is long gone from my mind set. The artsy, eclectic woman of my 20s is my mind set of my late 60s. To be free of all stereo-types, styles, trends, and other mindless activities is exactly where I long to be.
I don't have a long trip there. But, now, at this age, I have the freedom, the wills, and the desire to perfect my style.

I have always been a free thinker. I spent alot of time growing up by myself. Oh, I had family members and some friends, but, I spent time alone in nature learning who I was.
I now know that I can be very funny. I also know that I do not like being in a room filled with too many people. I can not concentrate and want to hide beneath a table. At my age now, that is not a good behavior to develop.

I always thought that I was extremely awkward. I always thought I was extremely shy. I now now that yes, I am extremely awkward but I am not shy. I am and always have been in introvert. Now a days, people read books about how great introverts are. What clever thinkers they turn out to be. How the world would be lost without the introverts in its towns and cities.

As a young child, it hurt to be an introvert. It was lonely, sad, and a depressing state of mind. To be so different than the other children in school, to never fit into a crowd, and never be the cool kid. No, I never had a chance for those qualities.

So at 67, I am spending my early retirement years devoted to one of my favorite subjects-ME. How to improve me, mold me, build me up and down.  This takes alot of thinking, and meditation. Concentration is a must.

Peter Gunn and the meaning of life

I have been watching a weekend marathon of the 50s TV Black and White TV show Peter Gunn.
Just watching hours,of a black and white show about a detective who is a tough guy but shows his gal his soft side is enough for me to love this Blake Edwards' classic show. Show ran from 1958-1961 first on NBC and then switched over to ABC. The show is great is you love modern jazz music and the old black noir movies. I love it all.

I have had a bad back since 1977. Two years ago, I lost my battle for pain control. I thought I was losing my mind. I could not control my crying. I had no energy. I slept during the days and nights.
I was in constant pain. I thought I must have hurt my hip, my legs ached. I was in full denial.

In 2014, I went to an orthopedic back doctor. He took ex-rays and told me it was not my hip, it was my back. My back was hurting again and I stayed in full denial for another two years.

This spring I was out in my large perennial garden weeding. I worked to hard and too long. I should have know better, my muscle had been asleep all winter. I finished my work and put away my tools. I then went to the cellar door way and sat down on the wooden cellar stairs and started to cry. I cried until I heard myself sobbing and I continued sobbing for over a half hour. I regained myself control, and went into the basement and stripped off my dirty clothes, brought them upstairs to the clothes hamper and spend another half hour in a shower of extremely hot, steaming water.

Recovery from back pain is the pits. When every inch of your body is in pain, the first thing I want to do is to lie down and take a nap. When I woke I called my primary doctor and make an appointment for the next day. She looked at me and said make an appointment again with the orthopedic doctor and tell him how much pain you are in. You should not be in that much pain.
I spent the day making a list of my back history and a list of what I needed to get to a pain free recovery.

I am in PT now. For the last month, I have been on an an arthritis inflammatory medicine.  Soon I will be off it. For my birthday, I requested the gold standard of walking sticks. I am going to get strong and out of pain.

Little River going towards Plum Island

Well, it has been a month and now I am off the Anti-inflammatory medicine.  The old aches and pains are back, along with a very tired and overused back. I had the PT re-evaluation yesterday. I am still weak in my legs, ankles etc. The Therapist will send a note to Dr. Ford regarding my slow progress.
She will recommend that I continue with PT and strongly suggests that I explore the pain clinic option.

I wold love to come home from the evaluation and have Peter Gunn pour me a martini and tell me that everything will be ok. He will also be flirtatious with me and give me those sweet eye looks.
Oh yeah, that is not reality but, one could only hope.

I know that I have fought and won the back battle before. I have the will power and courage. I really don't need Peter Gunn to explain the meaning of life. I am having a fantasy. A very nice fantasy and one in black and white. My world is filled with vibrant colors. I know what to do now... and will take each step with vigor.

Count down to vacation

Oh the weary traveler. My brain hurts from packing my bag mentally. Weather changed in Portugal and I rethink, once again, about my packing.  Tomorrow, we leave on the airport bus at 2:30pm to arrive in Logan Boston International Airport at 3:15pm for our 6:20pm TAP flight to Lisbon.

The trouble with me is, that, I started my Travel Agent career in 1972. I am ashamed to say, this was before computers. I don't mean desk top computers, what I mean is the airlines did not have computer. Right, at this point you are thinking that I am ancient. Well, I am looking at my grey hairs and I must be old.

In the beginning, I worked for Crimson Travel. My interview was short. The owner's brother handing me 2 OAG books that together weighed 50 lbs. OAG was a two books of all the airline flights domestically and also internationally in the world! He handed me the world and said "Here, that these books home and when you know how to use them, come back and I will hire you.

A week later, I was hired. The codes in these books were incredible. The days of the week the flight operated or did not operate were numbers, an X in front of a number meant does not operate.....day of the week.

Every airport has its own code (and still does). The air fare was listed under, the City Pairs.

Under that would be the fares First Class listed first (of course), coach class and special fares.

It was easy. You looked at the book, you knew the flight and fare.

Now, you sit down and call the airline and book the flight. Our reservation sheet were five copies.

Paper flew around the office. Each desk had two phones. This was revolutionary at the time.  We sat at a semi round bar that faced the customers. The eager travelers would line up in

repeated word of each agent to transact their request. Telephones and people would be on their phones waiting to speak to the agent. You would put the client on hold and dial ,(,,yes dial) the airline.

No seat assignment were given. At the airport, the check-in person had a picture of a plane, with seat tabs, she would take a tab, and put it on a boarding pass. It was fast and efficient.

The point that I want to make is that before computers- all airlines, airports were less crowded, you sat on a real wide seat and had plenty of leg room (all free), you were handed a blanket, a pillow and asked nicely which of the three dinner choices did you prefer and would you like a soft drink or cocktail. People for the most part acted friendly, happy, excited, and joyful while traveling.

All that without a computer. Imagine that. I is really hard to remember. The memories are so sad. I am 5" 3 and I can't stand the lack of leg room. I feel sorry for people who are six feet and over. IT must be torture for them. 

Trying to relax like a cat during a hot summer.

It has been a lazy, hot, dry summer. The type of summer when it is too hot to go to the beach. Instead, it is a summer for hiding in one's home. It does not matter if the home has AC. Just to be home with a good book is needed to help forget about the severe drought that were are experiencing.  My gardens are looking very poorly and our trees are suffering.

JWD

Lay Out Pictures

After almost two years of being a member of the Newburyport Art Association, I decide to go to my uncomfort zone and enter a show.

The process was not easy. I learnt to be careful of glass edges while  I cut five fingers and bled onto a few mats. 

I frames two pictures, and then read the NAA rules and realized that I had the wrong type of fames. Bought new frames, along with small D ring, and picture wire.

Play with Frames

Narrow Down  Options

Practiced my choices of signatures, and signed the final two selections





Take a few more breaths. Proceed to clean frames, glass, etcc. Tighten up the back and go celebrate on another new adventure to retirement.

Blood Red Maple

Reflections From A Rose

Job Well Done.  JWD......Update -Reflections did not get hung, too many entries but, I gave it Ginny a great women of advanced age who did a great kindness to me.