A Sad Time

So what does a squirrel have to do with sad feelings? Nothing. Except I can get lost in my own world while processing my photos and, regardless of any other circumstance, it makes me happy because I can equate the image to a joyful moment.

My Dad passed away on Dec.2nd at 7:10 am. He was 91 years old.

He loved photography. There were many different wild animals that lived around him, especially deer. He would sit on his patio and take picture after picture, year after year of them. He could tell from one year to the next by their markings if he had gotten a photo of one he had seen before.

I can remember as a child, when he got his first really good camera. Back then, light meters weren't built into them so he had to get one of those, too. I can remember posing for shot after shot while he learned how to use it. I must have gotten my love of photography from him.

I also remember as a child, raising baby squirrels by hand because their mother had gotten killed. We would feed them with doll bottles around the clock until they got old enough to feed themselves. More often than not, he would have one riding around in his shirt pocket. They would meet him at the door when he got home and hitch a ride. While they had the run of the house when someone was home, they also had cages. When they were able to fend for themselves, we would take the cage out to the garage, open it and let them run free.
The image of this squirrel was taken at a campground on Lake Livingston, Texas. He was so tame, that when we returned to our camp site after sightseeing, he would run up to the car and wait for us to open the door and get out so that he could greet us.
I must have gotten my love of nature and wildlife from him.

I also remember as a child, going camping in the mountains of Colorado. We went every year from the time I was 6 years old, and we camped out in a tent. Even after I was married, my husband and kids would go. My youngest daughter was 3 months old the first time she went. She slept snug and warm in a sleeping bag right next to me. We would go in August when it was really hot here. Outside in the mountains at night, it would get really cold, which I loved, and the days were cool and pleasant. We tried taking relatives along with us, but it proved difficult to tell someone from Texas to take a coat and enough warm clothes with them when it was 100 degrees outside. We usually lost them after the 2nd or 3rd night. I must have gotten my love of camping from him.

There are a lot of things, good and bad, that I got from him. He will be missed.

I don't Know

I have always been taught and believed that when you are creating any artistic endeavor that you only add enough additional elements to support your main focus. Or, conversly, you eliminate the unnecessary. Learning to do that is not easy. There is always something more that can be added but should it?

How far do you go?

I have seen artists and artisans alike pile so much stuff into their creation that its focus is completely lost. I have seen scrapbook pages embellished to the point that you can't find the memory that is being preserved. Cards created from papers with big, bold designs then more big, bold elements slapped on top creating a sense of clutter and the excessive frills hugely popular among the Victorian era upperclass and, still to some extent, today. Paintings with so many components that you can't find a point of interest. Photographs stacked on top of photographs, on top of textures, on top of colors until they become surreal.

Again, how far do you go?

Surprise! There are buffalo in the Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. A lot of buffalo. They are hugh, magnificent creatures. It seems that what they like to do most is eat, drink and lay down. Not exciting photography but who can resist?

I took this photograph early one morning.

I created this from the original.

So, how far do you go? Art is highly individualistic. You go, a little or a lot, until it pleases YOU!

Van Granny

This is absolutely the last post I am going to make regarding a decision that was made or an action that was taken predicated on events out of our control. Things are Great now and looking up more and more every day. I thought this one turned out funny, though.

Because of circumstances, my husband and I were discussing the possibility that we might have to sell our house. We started analyzing what changes might need to be made in order for it to sell quickly. A major problem that we could see, at least in a Realtor's eyes, is that I LOVE color...lots and lots of color. There is not a single color I do not like and firmly believe that every one of them has its right place. My kitchen and breakfast area was the canvas for my palette. We knew we were going to have to get the walls back to a neutral color, which we did.

I started looking for things that I could hang on the, now, to me, boring walls. I found a place that sells crops of Van Gogh's paintings that have been sublimated onto ceramic tiles. I ordered the most colorful ones I could. I also ordered some frames designed specifically for ceramic tiles. The day my goodies arrived, the Grands were here. We all had a hand in deciding how and where they would be hung. Mission accomplished, but it wasn't enough. They filled one area, but I had more wall to cover.

In one of the painting classes I teach, the students each take a turn choosing what they would like to paint and we all paint the same thing. One was of some grapes with very colorful leaves and background. I have grapes and some of those colors already in my kitchen. I could hang that. Check!

I went through some of my own photos and cropped out some colorful sections, reduced the detail to make them look more painterly, over saturated the colors and put them in the same color frames as the ceramic tiles. Would it work? We thought so. Check!

My Granddaughters call these my Van Grannys. Bless their hearts. I think it takes a colossal ego to put my stuff next to Van Gogh's. One thing can be said, though. It is colorful.

The Year from You Know Where

Things are finally looking up!!

Back in February Hubby went into the hospital to have double knee replacement surgery. We were concerned because, among some other things, he has AFIB and takes a blood thinner to help prevent blood clots which he had to stop taking a week prior to surgery. Except for one bout of something like the flu, in the 42 years we have been married, he has never been bed ridden sick.

No need to worry. He went through the surgery like a champ. When they wheeled his hospital bed out of recovery to take him to his room, he was sitting up, laughing and making jokes at his nurse. Once he was settled into his room, physical therapy paid a visit. They got him up out of bed and he walked 20+ feet with two brand new knees, laughing and joking all the way. I knew and his therapist knew what he hadn't figured out yet. He was still under the influence of massive pain medication. We knew the next day would be different. And it was.....

Although, PT did get him out of bed to walk, he was walking only a few steps. No laughing and joking could be heard. Poor guy. They also re-started all of his medications. And, the worst was yet to come...

By the next day, his blood thinner had thinned his blood too much. He started bleeding internally, his blood viscosity numbers were off the chart, his white blood cell numbers were shooting up right along with his temperature. With glassy eyes darting from side to side, he was physically there in the bed but he wasn't. He had left the planet, entered a high ceiling-ed spaceship with all the doctors dressed in military uniforms. He could tell you his name and birthday, but he thought Clinton was still President. He didn't trust the doctors in their fancy dress uniforms. He wouldn't let them do anything unless I told him it was OK. In an effort to find exactly where he was bleeding they ran test, after test, after test. Some, not so easy for a mobile person, was sheer torture for someone with two brand new knees. Vitamin K, blood transfusions, and iron finally got his blood back to normal. Did I mention that he also became blood loss anemic? And, what did they find on the tests....

Cancer. They found he had a large tumor growing on the outside of one of his kidneys. They said it had been there for quite some time. They also said it was one of the few cancers that cannot be detected with a blood test. His doctor said it is found when other symptoms make themselves known or by accident. Divine intervention, a blessing in disguise. He started another round of tests to determine if it had spread, bone tests, bladder tests, dye tests, you name it. Thankfully, the tumor appeared completely contained, but the kidney had to be removed. And, that couldn't happen until he had recovered from his knee surgery...

After two weeks in the hospital and a week in a re-hab hospital, he was able to come home. Everyone was amazed at how well he was doing with double knee replacement. His re-hab nurse said I was going to need roller skates just to keep up with him.

At home and with the help of out-patient re-hab, his knees continued to improve. He was ready for his kidney to be removed. Well, he wasn't really ready but it was time. Three week ago we made the trip back to the hospital. Again, he went through the surgery like a champ. His doctor told me that he saw no other signs of cancer lurking around. That was a relief to both of us but what I had not told my husband was what the doctor had told me. If they found the tumor had spread, they would just sew him back up and send him home. There is no chemo or radiation that can be used for kidney cancer. So, an accident, Divine intervention, or a blessing in disguise, or whatever one calls it, his blood thinning out appears to have saved his life. After surgery restrictions still curb his activity, but he is well on his way to recovery.

I managed to hold onto my sanity because of the wonderful doctors that he had. They answered all my questions honestly, and fully. The doctor that was on call the day he started bleeding was particularly helpful. He told me everything and let me watch the digital images from the scans. I could see the tumor. I wasn't brushed aside like an irritating gnat. I will be forever grateful for that. His kidney doctor and his PA were also forthright and took the time to answer the most menial of questions.

Another thing that helped me was my ability to sit and create stuff for my digital cutter whenever I could. Even if it was just a few minutes at a time. I had no desire or energy for anything else. There is no rhyme or reason to what I created. I sometimes would start something that turned into something else or one thing would lead to another. I would like to share some of that stuff over time.

A couple of weeks ago, the only city in the country that was cooler than we were in the DFW area, was San Francisco. A Texas day in July with the high in the low 70's. Loved it!!! It lasted for several days, but, alas, that has changed. A great way to cool off in the summer heat is with a hamburger, fries and a cold beer while laying out by the pool

Summer Meal MTC Digital Cut File

Hamburger PNG File

French Fries in Container PNG File

Beer Glass with Reflections PNG File

Beer Glasswithout Reflections PNG File

Bouffant Hairstyles and Mini Skirts

Does anyone remember them?

My husband has been busy the last few days building organizer systems for both our closets. In the process, he found some old photos he had tucked away. This one was taken on our honeymoon in New Orleans.

The Making of a Traditional

When I was little my Granny used to make homemade noodles every year for Thanksgiving dinner and Christmas dinner. When I got old enough, she taught me how to make them, and I have carried on the tradition. They are very easy to make and really quite yummy so I don't mind. Besides, I just know that if I skip making them my nose will fall off. And, truth be told, I am a sucker for traditions.

When my Granddaughters got old enough to hold a rolling pin, I started teaching them how to roll the noodles out. They are now 7 and 9 and have literally helped since they were each old enough to stand in a chair and roll. Next year, we start learning how to make the dough. But, I digress.....

Their Mother has learned to make them as well and does a very good job for the Christmas dinner. I still do them for Thanksgiving, and the girls make a special visit just to make the noodles. As we were rolling them out this year, the girls started talking about how they were making a traditional....My "Granny" taught me to make them. Their "Granny" is teaching them to make them and, to keep the traditional going, how they will teach their grandkids.

That's a long way off and times change. I don't know if they will. I do know that the memories of time spent with their whole family is the real traditional and that they will pass on.

P.S. I get really sappy this time of the year.

If you look carefully, you can see that she has finished rolling out her noodles and is now studying the properties of flour.

She has not started rolling hers yet. She's working up her mojo.

That Fateful Day

Windows on the World was an elegant and popular restaurant located at 1 World Trade Center. On that beautiful, clear morning breakfast was already being served. All present at the time American Airlines Flight 11 impacted the North Tower were killed including 73 of the 400 very close-knit employees of the restaurant.
She was 52 years old. They say that she was a sweet, caring woman who liked to sew. A woman who brought a ray of sunshine into everyone’s lives. She had a beautiful smile. She worked at Windows On the World. Such a bare handful of facts. How do we pay tribute to someone that we did not know, can never hope to meet...now...because of that fateful day? What can I say about this woman that will bring her alive to you, just briefly, so you know that Clara Victorine Hinds lived and hoped and dreamed like we all do?

All I can tell you is that she was my fellow American. She had the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. She had the right to grow old alongside us, to watch the sunrise, to share laughter and love. She had the right to live beyond September 11th, 2001.

So, while I cannot tell you much, I can tell you everything. She was our fellow American and she was killed by our enemy. And, we will not forget.