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| I'm so excited!! Just won two (2) count'em, TWO ebay auctions for cypress!!! Do you know what that means?
That means I can be creative while the snow and the wind and the weather storms around me! YES!! Sometimes I think I should have been born a boy. But then, what boy do I know that would do what I do? Some women like to sew (which I do, I quilt) and some women like feathers and frills and the colors pink and purple ... but I like brown and tan and black and sand and taupe and pale, pale yellow. Earth tones. Leaf tones. Dried flower tones. Not too bright or flashy (hence the Sparrow ...) yet pleasing to the eye. And I love to combine stuff that I've found in the yard and in the swamp and the woods behind our house. Totally USEless art. But it soothes me. And I like to look at it. And touch it. And even, sometimes, smell it. Driftwood has its own smell, did you know that? Yep. So do dried leaves and flowers. But I digress. Here's a little mirror that I did for my favorite Nother Daughter in Louisiana ..sorry about my tunic in the mirror - I just noticed it! See the snow in the background? That's what's left of yesterday's weather. 27 degrees out there. Rambling, aren't I? HA! I was going to attach a couple "globes" that I did, too, but xanga isn't cooperating. So imagine a piece of cypress with a glass dome on top, filled with little woodsy things in a sort of nature sculpture, all surrounded by dried grasses and an occasional wildflower. Got it? Maybe next time. xoxo | | |
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Man, this house smells good!!! Turkey's been cookin' for almost three hours now, and the rest of the "stuff" is coming together. Had to give my back a break, so I came down here. We're expecting a houseful around noon, and I'm really looking forward to feeding everybody lots of goodies! There are so many things to be thankful for this year ... although I'm a little overweight, I'm still cancer-free. Although we don't have a dime to spare, our bills are paid. Although our house is small, it's warm and dry and the mortgage has been burned. Although we're getting older all the time, we still have our moments of childish play. Although my hair is greyer this year than last, it's still on my head ... and my upper lip ... and maybe a few (very, very few...) on my butt. TMI? Sorry - it's a passing mood, I'm sure! My hopes are that you are well, that you have loved ones around you, and that you are able to enjoy this truly wonderful holiday. As for Ms. Turkey above, she's mistaken. I'm a leg and thigh girl, myself!!! HA! xoxo | | |
| I had cut off all my fingernails so that they were even, and I said to myself, I said, "Self: let's just cut about 5 inches of hair off your head, too, while we're at it." So I did. It's still beyond my shoulders, but it feels a lot lighter, somehow ... HA! | | |
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The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. We will remember. | | |
| The edges were becoming a little blurry as Lucky's dream came to a gradual end. She was so sleepy! And yet it seemed like she'd been sleeping for a long time. She twitched in her semi-sleep and felt the pain in her leg. Slowly the memories came back to her as she began to rise above the anesthetic. Gone. All gone. Her family had been brutally taken from her. Where was she now? Had she made it to the cabin? Would she ever be free of this pain? She stirred and felt the hand on her head. Gradually she opened her eyes and looked into the face of her beloved Man. She kissed his hand and felt him shudder as tears made their way slowly down through the scars on his face. "Lucky ... my precious little girl! Are you gonna come back to me? Oh, God - - -" She kissed him again and tried to scoot her body a little closer to his. Nope, it just plain hurt too much. She looked back over her shoulder, taking in the bulky bandages around her hind quarters. Good Lord! What had happened to her leg? Where was her leg? It was too much to take in all of a sudden. Lucky whimpered as she closed her eyes again. So sleepy. And she ached so bad. Gil's hand continued to stroke her head as she swallowed one time and quietly went back to sleep. The crisis was past. And Gil was smiling through his tears as he thanked his God. He had his dog back. And somehow he knew that this time she'd stay. . Lucky's story began for me in July of 2006. Having just lost my own dog to cancer, this story was therapeutic for me, and I experienced healing as I wrote it. The first post to xanga was, curiously, very hard for me. July 13, 2006 I opened up my heart to this group of strangers-soon-to-become-friends, and through their acceptance of my writing I was able to go on. Parts of Lucky's story are fiction. I'll let "my three readers" figure out which ones, if they are inclined to go back through the years, begin at the beginning, and read to this end, over three years later. xoxo | | |
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