A bit of me

Life isn't always what you make it

I have lived a long life, the first years were during WW2 and that was living carefully hand to mouth but we made it. Then life got easier, better food, better clothes, more choices.
In my teen years I made my choices thinking they would be happy ever after, well that was mostly wrong. I raised my family through my twenties mostly without  the kids dad he was busy working and drinking, we survived and eight great children became adults.
I chose after a quarter of a century to leave that bad marriage, ended up in a happy one, one that only last three years until cancer became our life and ended my buddy, my husband.
After that I choose to be a lone except for my children, grand children and a few extended family. One friend( I thought) did a job of pretending to be there for me, then she when she needed something.
For17 years I have had to live with various conditions , all rare and now they are telling me I have a really rare one caused by they do not, bu if they figure it out and fix it my condition of misery will go away. so do I choose to follow through with the tests and hope there really is an answer or do I wait and see what happens next.

Keeping on

Times keeps moving on and I am still here blogging away. Life isn't easy but we keep trying.

Good advice!

The New One Hopefully For Grand Daughter

What makes Us Happy

Life does not guarantee happiness, we keep seeking it in different ways. But do we already have it and do not see it? That is something that I am contemplating as I sit here  limited in what I can do. I think maybe I am lucky to be able to find happiness in the little things that I can do.
I know I am not going to be famous for my painting nor am I going to get  awards for my writing but do I need them is my question. I go into another world when painting, do I become different when painting or when  writing, it is like I go outside of myself to do it. Now I wonder is that place that I go to the real me, or are we different people for different things.
Was I mother earth when gardening and caring for my flowers? Was I a farmer when caring for the farm animals, or was the  loving caring woman that raised  all of her children, helping them become what they are meant to be. Do we wear different hats for different things. Can we allow ourselves to evolve into  what our potential really is or do we stifle ourselves from fear of failure, or of being laughed at.
As I sat here  yesterday  I was wishing i could do my yard work, that I could get a small camper and just go traveling, then all of a sudden I said  to myself and old adage my mom would say," If wishes were horses then beggars would ride". It was then I had a defining moment, Maybe I am doing exactly what is planned for me, maybe I am happy and do not appreciate the fact that happy isn't always what we think it is.
Maybe if we all just relax, take a deep breath and let it all go for a few minutes and as we refresh our electronics maybe that is what we need to do.Do we really have to worry and wonder if a political party is in office, do we really need to  wish we  could do things we can't , do we need to stress ourselves with needless worries that  have no bearing on our lives in the long run.
Something tells me we are mostly doing it all wrong and the hints we get to make changes are ignored. I for one am going to stop and let things happen for I realize that is exactly what  I do when painting and writing, I never plan any of it and it gets where I am suppose to put it whether its paint or words.

Never too old for a lesson

I am out of practice and that’s a fact,
After hours and hours of  gluing that I did,
All of those Christmas designs  all so pretty
 With glowing lights and garland  they did shine,
 So twenty years  later an idea  came to me


I thought how hard can it be to glue a wreath,
Not for Christmas  but for Summer and me,
So out came the glue  gun, glue sticks and all,
I was so happy with my one of a kind design,


My mind had the idea of pansies so sweet,
Netting for back ground will set it off fine,
And busy I got when my troubles began,
Hands not so nimble, clumsy in fact,

The wreath started to form when I yelled ouch,
It seems the glue went on my numb fingers
Instead of the frame, it caused a heck of pain
Taking the glue off my finger was grim, 

It hurt and took a bit of my skin,
The lesson I learned on this craft day,
If you're going to do what you did back then,
Make sure you have a cool glue gun and bacitracin.
tee 2017

My First attempt at fiction short story

One day Bertie, known as Little bird or her given name Norberta Inez Thankful Van York.  As she walked along through the pine trees, taking in the piney scent as she walked and loving the scents that  fall brings waiting for winter’s quiet time when all was frozen even the scents it seemed.  She was thinking how things went wrong when her parents named her after almost every grandmother and great grandmother all except one. Katherine and Joanna each got one name while she had the rest except that one was missing and  she knew there should be  six names but no one ever said her name. She hated her name, she hated Bertie also which was what her sisters called her and her two older brothers called her Little Bird, which wasn’t so bad.

Why did her mother frown when Ned and Frank called her that, well mothers are good at frowning she thought and forgot about it. What was important, was the fact that she was starting school and what was she going to do about her awful name. As she walked along the dusty road, she realized that she had missed her turn to go to the school house. “Oh, darn and Glory be”, she muttered, having to go to school for the first time without her sisters and brothers just wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t her fault that Katherine and Joanna along with Ned and Frank were kept home to help with the crops and canning the vegetables for winter. Just as she was turning around to get back to her turn off, she spied a little log building in the trees. Now curious she wondered where that came from and realized that the leaves were falling off the trees enough to see it hidden away.

Now everyone knew that Bertie was a bit curious about everything and there she was trying to see what that building was about when a voice quietly said, “Is there something you need little one”? Startled Bertie turned around and there stood the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

Not that she was young or anything but the braids that hung on each side of her face seemed to sparkle as the sun shone on her silver hair. She was dressed in soft deer hide dress and high moccasins, almost like the painting that hung in the attic except she was older.

Finally finding her voice she said,” I am sorry but I missed my turn to the school, it’s going to be my first day ever, then looking down and shuffling her new shoes in the road dust, she said” I had better get going”. The lady said “, I will walk you back to your turn if that alright with you”.

As they walked the woman asked Bertie what her name was and with a sigh Bertie went on to say her entire name. The woman smiled and went on to say, “that is not what you answer to is it”? Shaking her head Bertie said no, then said her sisters called her Bertie and her brothers called her little Bird. She looked up at the woman and saw a smile that lit up the older woman’s face. Then as they reached the turn for the school Bertie asked her what the woman’s name was, and the older woman answered,” Why my name is Pretty Little Bird”.

As Bertie walked towards the school, she no longer had to wonder what she should be called and now she knew who the painting in the attic was, she was named after all her grandmothers. Into the school, she went and when it was roll call and was asked her name she proudly said, “Norberta Inez Thankful Little Bird Van York”.