What’s so good about it?


Today was just a plain old day.

It was just like another day. Nothing new. Nothing sparkly.
I woke up wishing I hadn’t. My daughter is having heart problems and the man I married didn’t even care. She has been having chest pains. But her heart doctor and her primary doctor said everyone is sick, so they rescheduled her for a office visit for….NEXT month. How lovely. She called and was having a hard time today. My only child will probably die because of our lousy healthcare.
If I would have known all this bad stuff was going to happen to my daughter, I wouldn’t have had a child. It isn’t the only thing she has gone through. Thyroid cancer, diabetes type 1, had her appendix taken out, high blood pressure. And no, she wasn’t overweight. At 118 pounds until then, no.
I have had so much crap thrown at me in my life. I feel so bad for her.
My mother beat me all my life till I was the age I could leave. And I did. Then I married a alcoholic. My dad never told me there were guys who did not work like he did. YAY..Seven years of that.
Have you ever cried over losing a dime? Well I did then. That’s pretty bad.
Have you lost a unborn baby on your birthday? Well, I did. No one ever helped. No even Salvation Army. I hate hearing bell dinger’s at the stores at this time of year. I don’t blame them, but the memories…I hate.
After seven years of being married to a alcoholic, I told him to go back home to his momma. he took the car and left me with a two month old baby. My mother did not care about her granddaughter even. I had to beg to come back home. My mother has bought her ONE outfit in 30 years.
What is really sad to see is your child begging their grandmother to say hi, or come play with me. My mother didn’t. But she did my other sister’s kids.
I do not know why she always hated me. I asked my dad and he never told me. Even to the day he died about three years ago. My own two sister’s never talk or call. Still. Yet, I never did nothing. Maybe it was because I never asked for help like they did.
Then when I filed for divorce,I paid for that too. I remained single, never even dated for seven while years. Shell shock I guess was what that was.
I should have stayed that way. Some women I knew said I needed to date again. Well, I thought about it. It didn’t seem too bad a idea…and I had raised my daughter for all those years all by myself. No help. Not even my parents, who lived across town or my sisters too. I didn’t expect any help.
So, I met a man who I thought was a okay guy. We had similar interests.
Another mistake in my life. He turned out to be a control freak and gasliter. And I am paying for that too. January will be a whole 27 years. I do not know how it did that.
I don’t even have a bank account. No car, no money. I can’t even afford new underwear. Seriously. We are ALWAYS broke within the first week.
Today..we are broke… no money. Nothing. I am lucky I guess that I had sausage and eggs. Although I just had soup.
No family… no friends…and I am sooo tired of it all. What is the point even ???
Yet I can’t break free. It is complicated. And no one listens. So, I will most likely die here one day. Wondering how people live normally. Because…I don’t.
This time of year makes me even sadder. All the pretty things…how do you get them? All the happiness…how do you have that?
I have come to realize most people really don’t care. But sometimes, you hear on the news about how people have helped others. I wish I had help. But…no one knows or listens.
Even my dog is sad today. Probably because there have not been more than a few words spoken today between us. My husband.

Yes, It’s a lovely time of year.


When does life begin?


Today is a rainy day and a time to reflect on life in general.

They say life begins at fifty. Okay, I have been ripped off! I want my money back! Oh, wait..I forgot I don’t have any. HE does.

There comes a time when you look back and wonder, WHERE did it go? WHICH WAY should I have gone? WHAT would I have done differently? WOULD IT have been the right thing or the wrong thing?
My father or mother never gave me any support in things I wanted to do. Never. And frankly, they did not care.
I wanted to live off the land, see nature up close. Experience the raw wild wilderness. I had it all planned out already in my head. My father laughed at me and called me a silly girl, I would die. No, I had that figured out already. I don’t do things ” half-assed ” as he would say.
I figured that I would head out for someplace up north. Maybe Montana or Wyoming. Buy the land with money that I could put back with my job. I could build my own cabin myself. I was the kind who could do things like this. It would have to be ready by the time winter fell. I would not want to be stuck out in the big snowstorms they had up there. And I could build a smokehouse to store some meat for the winter. Yes, I knew there would be bears and other wild creatures that would also want it. I had that covered too.
For any money, I had ideas on that also. One was growing herbs, making herbal medicines or tinctures for people. Wild crafting as they call it also. Growing fresh food and even mushrooms for people and restaurants. ( I could STILL do that now even ) Back then you could also trap. I know things are different now, but back then you could make good money off it. But could I really do that ?

Looking back now, I think I would not do the trapping. I love animals too much to do that. They are only trying to survive like I would have been too.

Now I have wished that I HAD bought land there because it is too high in price now. But, I figured my dad knew best. Well, parents do not ALWAYS know best. I kick myself a lot over that one.
Another idea I had was my art. I was always good at that. In school I always had my art in the showcase they had there for people to look at. I had a couple of great teachers that I will always be thankful for having them. They were terrific.
I don’t draw things by drawing out the circles or angles like some do. I just eyeball it or think of it. It is easier for me that way. I love most forms of art. Sculpture, painting, ceramics, woodworking, most all of it. Even designing fabric. I loved silk screening and batik. Gourd art. I have tons of gourds just waiting on me to paint or wood burn them still.
Woodworking was always interesting. I can also carve wood, chainsaw carve too. ;0 and marquetry. It relaxes me. I use already downed trees. I don’t like cutting down trees. The world has done enough of that already. Trees are habitats for animals and many living things.
I also like to make pictures of people that are in the most unpredictable places! I do this with my computer. I do art on there too. One person I did some for was a guy who had a motorcycle. He was proud of it. So, I took a picture of him on his bike and put him way up in the mountains of Machu Pichu, right up to the very edge of the point. And a person would have wondered how the heck did he get there? He must have been good on that bike! Then I did one of him with his bike on the beach in Florida. Umm..that isn’t allowed there, but I ” put” him there. I even added sand to his tires. Ha… it was fun.

I also take people out of pictures. Like beach pictures that a person really likes. If they want it without people, I do that. And a person can never tell. Most pictures you can tell, by the pixels, if you zoom in on them. Not mine. Some take awhile, but I enjoy it.
But where I live, you cannot even give it any kind of art away. Not that I would do that. There is no money to be had here. Too poor a state for them to pay anything. It is like a whole other country here. I hate that. I am in the wrong place I see.
So, my work will have to be sold online. Some I can do through the internet. I do pictures of pets too. And I can put them in special places too! Imagine that.. the well traveled pet of yours. Maybe I ought to do some of my dogs in places I like…I will show you what I mean if you like. If you are interested, don’t feel shy to ask okay?
So, I have a dilemma. What to do? How can I? Plus, I still hear those words of my father echoing through my head, ” you will be a starving artist.” I don’t want to starve…What if my dad was right???  Doubts…my confidence…failure… I am always afraid of failure. I don’t like to fail. The thought almost paralyzes me.
Well, for some of my art, I was invited to France for my marquetry. So..I must have been good enough. And I did appear in a newspaper in Fort Worth Texas for making life sized felted dolls.( actually it was a picture of my hand painting their faces. I was the artist who did it all, but I worked for a woman who took the credit ) Before that, we used to make cloth mannequins.
Most of the customers were grandmothers wanting one that looked like their grandchild. They would send pictures of them to me and I would airbrush their faces on them. They always went crazy about them, the work I had done. So, again I MUST have been doing something right. Right?
I still love all forms of art. Motivation is a killer now. I need a private space to concentrate. or my ideas go pffffttt…like a balloon with the air being let out!

No distractions please..
What to do, what to do…
Most times I think people just do not care. If they only knew my life…One person on here knows pretty much. She has been a great friend to me even if we are across the ocean from each other. Right Sam? 🙂

Cleo my little teacher, I miss you still.

                      You are still in my heart. You always will be.

This is the story of Cleo, my Manx cat.


We lived in Texas several years ago. We had moved back from Florida right before a hurricane came and took out our house. That was good timing on our part I guess.

We had bought some land in a hole in the wall place close to Paradise Texas, only it wasn’t exactly a Paradise. That is a story in itself!

I used to go to town to get groceries. We lived several miles out.

One day a tiny cute cat had caught my eye as I drove by. She was playing in the front yard with her sibling. Trying to catch butterflies in the air. So cute!

Cleo was a cute little Manx cat that was calico colored. The kind of cat that had no tail. That was their type of breed. Her sibling was a Tabby cat.

About two weeks later I noticed the people had took everything they owned, including their two Great Dane dogs and left. They took everything…except the two little kittens. They were left to fend for themselves. They looked to be about five weeks old. Not very old at all. And way to young to be on their own!

All I saw there was a crumpled up can of old dog food. How sad for the kitties…how could  ANYONE do that to ANY animal ? I cannot understand how a person can sleep after doing that to any living thing. I know I certainly could not.

But, there they were…playing like they did not know they had been dumped and left on their own to survive way out in the country.

But they did miss someone. Those people had a little daughter. Why didn’t they let her take them? Oh well, their loss and MY GAIN!!

We pulled up into the driveway and both kittens came crying to us. It was like they were saying, ” where have you been?! ” We opened up the car door and they both jumped in. The poor little darlings. I was so sad for them. But they were lucky we had found them before a coyote or some other wild animal did.

We took them home and fed them.They were so hungry. My guess is they had eaten bugs. Maybe some grasshoppers.

We also took them to the vets to get them a check up. The vet made me mad when he suggested that I have Cleo put down. WHY?  Because she was a Manx….he mumbled something about her breed. There was NOTHING wrong with her at all. That was the last time I saw that vet. How ignorant and uncaring of him.

Cleo was a survivor and a teacher. All through her life she had tried to teach other cats how to hunt and fend for themselves. It was sad sometimes to see. But she never gave up no matter what. She had such patience.

My daughter-in-law had two other cats. They lived with us there. The other cats were a black female cat and a blondish male cat. For quite awhile, the black female cat was so ugly to Cleo. I watched to make sure she didn’t hurt her. The male cat ignored Cleo too. It was like the other female told him to. Seriously. You could watch and see it. The black cat would growl and hiss at Cleo as if to tell her she wasn’t wanted there.

Finally the male cat figured things out I believe. He had enough of the grumpy black cat and hissed at her, telling it to leave Cleo alone and quit being so gripey towards her. So, the black cat started leaving her alone. Cleo finally had a friend, sort of.

A year or two after , we moved away to another state. But before we did, we had picked up two more dumped off cats. They had a sad story too. But, it all turned out for the better. I will tell their stories too. But, they had a forever home with us. And a nice home where it was peaceful. Finally.

Cleo was short for the name Cleopatra. She has eyeliner around her eyes that made me think of her, so the name stuck.

Cleo ALWAYS marched to the beat of her own drum….and I was always so proud of her. She was my sweet baby doll as I called her affectionately. I will always miss her.