Monday, October 27, 2014
A lifetime ago as I became an adult I can't believe how naive I was about politics and politicians. I actually believed the majority of candidates really had the interest of the country foremost in their hearts and minds. Over time I did become much more cynical and this song, written in 1989 and incorporating some of the events of the day, was the result. Specifics may have changed somewhat, but the overall concept unfortunately seems to have remained.
I'M A CONGRESSMAN
I spend my life kissing babies and shaking hands
Get important jobs for all my friends
Pass a few laws every now and then
It's a damn tough job being a Congressman.
Chorus: Yeah, I'm a Congressman living up on a hill
We tell you how to live your life and better still
We take all your money that you send to us
And spend it like we please, just have a little trust
In your Congressman.
I believe in making young people pay their way
So put my son and my daughter on the government pay
My brother-in-law drives my limousine
While my wife struts around the town acting like a queen.
I'm a Congressman, son, thanks a lot
I appreciate your vote now just get lost
We can argue six months over minimum wage
Then turn around and say we need a 30,000 raise.
I got a secretary don't know how to type
I make a lot of money from a book I didn't write
I sell a little influence whenever I can
It's a damn tough job being a Congressman.
Tag: Yeah, it's a damn tough job being a Congressman.
Friday, October 17, 2014
This is one of my first papier mache projects. I decided to create my last initial, and I wanted it to stand alone when finished. My life's philosophy has always incorporated the idea that life can change in a moment. There would be no real rhyme or reason to a lot that happens in a lifetime.
Also, you can never predict how the rough passages will come out. You can't foretell when it's going to settle down and experience smooth sailing. So, yes, life is a puzzle indeed.
I am also a puzzle person. I like to work the jigsaw puzzles, especially in the winter when it's too nasty to get out in the weather. When I started this project, this was all swirling around in my head. Going through a closet I realized I had a couple of puzzles with missing pieces. So I pulled one of them, and rummaged through the box to look for the ones I wanted to incorporate into the finished work.
Can you tell that one side (the top one) has a pretty smooth finish? The other I pushed the pieces into the papier mache mess so there is a jagged finish. While working up the pulp I found an old container of a child's watercolor set. I started mixing in colors into the pulp, using browns and oranges because they matched some of the background colors of the puzzle pieces.
The pulp just slurped up that color and absorbed it quickly. I wound up going back to the store and getting a few more watercolor sets, going through those colors in no time. After completing the piece, I went back several times and repainted the watercolors until I was satisfied. After a few coats of polyethylene I declared it done, a ten inch piece of special memories.
I did this piece a long time ago, but still find pleasure in having it on a bookshelf. Do you have a special work of art you created for your own pleasure that has stood the test of time, at least in your own mind? Love to have you share.
Monday, October 13, 2014
There was a time I suppose
When I had pretty little toes --
Those stubby nubbins at the end of the feet
That let you dance to your special beat.
They knew their place and they kept it
Till they started acting decrepit
There came a time deep in the night
I slept, my eyes shut tight
But those little traitors (to call their right name)
Put all decency to shame.
For stabs of pain in my big toe
And swelling red skin did quickly show
Peace was gone now from my slumber
Those little piggies had my number.
To touch the sheet would make me shout
You know the rest - I had gout.
A vicious disorder I declare
It makes me squawk: This just ain't fair!!!
Have you suffered some disorder you had to deal with? Plesase share.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Then, when all seems right in the world and there is no way for the day to get better, the radio plays a song that captures the feeling of love in the air. One from my childhood that has always stayed with me and pops up out of the blue is "Autumn Leaves" by Roger Williams. I do like that song. Yes, it is melancoly, but the tumbling piano keys mimic the colorful leaves and their trajectory as they fall from the quickly changing trees everywhere.
What about Rosemary Clooney singing "Shine on Harvest Moon?" How can you not like this song? And a little side note: did you see the Blood Moon yesterday morning? I tried, but didn't get the timing right. (Heavy sigh!!) But I shall try again come April 2015 when it is again supposed to make an appearance.
Another song with a fall flavor is "Whoever's in New England" by Reba McEntire. She has such a beautiful voice and the song is wonderful. I'm not sure I'd have such a forgiving attitude, though, if I was in that same situation. I'd probably be singing, "Keep your sorry self in New England 'cause I'm completely through with you."
There are more songs, of course. Do you have a favorite? I'd love to hear from each and every one of you, because music does indeed bring us all together in a special way.
Have a wonderful weekend.
Monday, October 6, 2014
I remember my first day of school. I think I remember the actual event, but it is possible what I remember is the retelling of the story of that first day.
My older brother was already in school and we often walked with him, though there were times he came home in the presence of others. The school was at most maybe a half-mile away, so it wasn't far. When I started Mom walked us both to school.
I enjoyed the morning. Then we were sent outside. So out I went. However, while the others headed off to the playground, I headed off to the house. I thought the day was over and we were being sent home. Needless to say, Mom was less than pleased to see me walk in the door. Once she determined why I was there, back we went.
She strongly impressed on me that when school was out the teacher would say so. I was not to leave until then, and even then I should stay until I saw my brother. We would go home together. She took me inside and explained the situation to the teacher. I apologized, of course. Kids did that then.
Before she left the building she also visited my brother and told him to make sure I was with him when he left for the day. So every day the teacher would make sure I knew it was okay to leave and watch to make sure my brother was with me when we did leave the premises. All that was not necessary. The lesson had been adequately instilled in my mind and I certainly was not going home alone again. But a routine was established and we practiced that until Christmas.
At that time we left California and moved to Rush Springs, Oklahoma. There we rode the bus, so I had to wait to leave until the bus arrived for us. I did miss that daily walk, though.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
There are some things that just come into your life unexpectedly, but yet feel like that should have been there forever. This weaving is one of my special treasures.
I attended a speech-language pathologist convention in Hot Springs, Arkansas, about 25 years ago. While I enjoyed most of these events and visiting with others in the field, that year I was a bit restive. Lunch time arrived and I felt the need to get out of the building for awhile. So I took off, exploring the many shops in the area, just window shopping. I didn't feel the need to look for something to buy, just a place to go and browse.
One shop had a lot of interesting decorative items and the selection was interesting. I came upon this piece hanging on the wall and it just felt "right." I loved the colors, the shading, the overall design. But I was not there to buy. I walked away and looked at other things in the store. But I kept coming back to this one.
Finally I left the store. We were still at a time in our lives where we were budget minded and buying some art piece was definitely not in the plan. But I couldn't get it out of my mind. I knew if I walked away without it, I'd feel incomplete in some way. Finally I turned back, marched into the store, and without hesitation said, "I'll take it."
Over the years it has hung on several different walls. First in my office when I had a private practice. Later in a bedroom, then the living room, and finally in the computer room. When we moved to a new house it went into the library, and now it's back in the computer room. I look at it often, and I'm still so very glad I made that purchase that day.
Do you have something special that makes you feel good? Something you love to display for all the world to see, but yet can enjoy when you are alone with your thoughts? Something that helps your creative muse emerge and lets you explore so many different thoughts? I'd love to know about it. Share if you'd like.
Monday, September 29, 2014
It's the brink of October and fall is in the air. With the hint of Halloween lingering close by, the changing of the colors in the trees, the shorter days of autumn, it is easy to remember Washington Irving's story: The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.
Arkansas is 1260 miles from Tarrytown, New York, which is where Irving and his family moved in 1798 to escape an epidemic of yellow fever. Autumn there is no doubt cooler than here. But even here we enjoy hearing a good ghost story every now and then. Irving tapped into portion of the brain we all secretly wonder about.
People are intrigued by this story, even down to today. Published in 1819 it still captures the imagination of so many of us on those closed in dark days of fall. This interest is evident in many places around the country, and yes, even here in Arkansas.
Sleepy Hollow Access is a park approximately 30 miles west of Little Rock. As seen on a beautiful day it is a peaceful place giving access to Lake Maumelle. The lake is very popular with the local fishermen. My husband and I once camped there overnight, oh so many years ago. We had fun, but when you awake on a cool morning and the fog has rolled in off the water and the visibility is almost nil with civilization not so close by, you can almost imagine what Irving's character, Ichabod Crane, experienced on that fateful night when he rode out to meet the Headless Horseman.
I don't know who suggested the name for this park, but I like it. And I enjoy stopping by every now and then for a quiet peaceful reverie. If you're ever in the area, look it up. See if you are captured by the beautiful trees and quiet river.