Tuesday, April 23, 2013


                  My days are so busy I hardly have time to spit.  Some of it is my own fault. This year however I made a resolution, which I don't usually do.  I decided to get back to the things I love.  Back to creativity.

                  A little of this creativity will have to be channeled into this old farmhouse to paint some walls and do a few updates, but I'll enjoy that too if I'm in the mood.  I will spend a little time on this blog, but  what I want  most, is to take more time for art.

                 The painting above is watercolor.  Many of my watercolors are intense and I use a lot of paint.   People tell me they look more like acrylics and I've tried those too but they're not as much fun.  Not for me anyway.  The best part about watercolor is the spontaneous way it flows and the color spreads and mingles.  That's when I turn up the music and hope for the best.

                      The peacock painting is not a wimpy little 5'x7' like I have been doing.  It's 16'x20' on Arches paper.  It's difficult to paint something as beautiful as this exotic bird.  You can paint a dull old brown dog and maybe mix up some color and make him look quite spectacular.  But there are some things you just can't improve on.  Sunsets are like that.  There are florescent paints on the market which might have made this piece more interesting, but my money tree isn't blooming right now, so I used what I had.  This portrait certainly isn't painted 'loosely' but I did get a little flow happening in the birds neck and background.  I'm not throwing stuff away any more no matter how it comes out.  Here it is, my expression of the muse, good or bad.  Someone can start a fire with it after I'm gone if they like.  (Chuckle)

                Do you paint or would  like to learn?   Have any questions?

Sunday, April 21, 2013


               A peacock and his two hens prance majestically around our dilapidated old farm house.   Well, it's not extremely dilapidated but it's over 100yrs old.  The floors are crooked.   Too much wind still makes it's way in through the wall plugs, and it needs lots of updates that never did get done.  The peacocks seem out of place here.  They have that attitude about them,  you know,  that peacock attitude that says they belong at a palace or a lavish estate.

              That attitude that says   " I was acquired to amuse the barons grand daughter."

              They appear bored with the terrain here.  No shimmering ponds or crystal lake in which to admire themselves.   No perfectly manicured lawns or gardens in which to preen themselves.  Instead they occupy themselves by lining up on the patio railing and staring intently in our bathroom window.  This never fails to produce screams both from myself and the peacocks when I step out of the shower,  and they strain their necks forward to tap on the window.   This is my own fault as I've thrown peanuts  on the patio several times to treat them  and they've simply come to wait with anticipation.  No thought of voyeurism at all in their nugget size brains.

              Yes,  peacocks do scream, and they have several vocalizations,  for mating,  for fright,  and as warnings.   I've managed to distinguish about five different calls that I can actually mimic quite well.  One sounds like their own version of the word  'help'.   A loud, high pitched drawn out HEEELLP  HEEELLP.   Another is their own stylized version of what I can only describe as  "a..hole"  (pronounced  ahh...hole)   AHH HOLE... AHH.HOLE....HEEELLP...AHH.HOLE.  You get the picture.   Occasionally in the evening when I want to round them up I find them by mimicking these sounds.   They often do respond and I call them in for the night.   A friend looked a bit alarmed one evening when she came to visit only to find me circling the barn again and again screaming  "AHH.HOLE...HEEELP"  at the top of my lungs.


                 Our male  has been named after a substitute teacher I had in high school.   A skinny nervous  Ickabod, with a long neck and protruding adams apple his only goal was to just make it through his classes without embarrassment.   Which he never did.   We saw to that.  He had that bird like strut and he flexed his neck with every step.  He also blushed more then any man I've ever known.  He was actually more like a flamingo.
               If you look closely at the photo above you will see the one grievance I have with these beautiful birds,  their droppings.  We're not talking about raisins here.  We're talking about a pile that would put your uncle Ernie to shame.   And they will perch on vehicles.   I've noticed they are partial to blue metallic Toyotas  with shiny chrome bumpers in which they stare at themselves for hours.

              When people complain about a little bird doo doo on their windshield I always show them them this picture.

              The peacock and his hens are now roosting in our barn most days to avoid the chilly weather.  I anxiously await warmer days when I will sit on our faded lopsided deck and sip some cheap wine.   The birds will float past me in their dignified brilliance.   I am after all the lady of the manor.   I may even put a curtain on that damn  bathroom window.

              So whose peeking in your windows??

Saturday, April 13, 2013





                      There is a lot of talk these days about health and fitness, especially cardiac health.  I think people my age should have a cardiac workup.  You know, stress test, cardiogram, that sort of thing to make sure the old ticker is working properly.
               Here in the country there's another way I do the test.  I just go out to the back porch and stick my hand down for some dog food the way I've done a hundred times before. 

                The only thing about doing the test this way is no one, and I mean no one, will jump in to resuscitate you if your heart does stop.



Saturday, April 6, 2013


 This is a much slimmer and younger version of my dog Murphy.  Like a lot of us he's presently trying to loose some weight and be healthy.  He is however, still curious

I am curious
about the origin of grass and rain
and even fleas
whose sting
inflicted by their quest
disturbs my sleep
of the slithering aspect of snakes
who slyly coil
and make
no sound
as content they dose in midday heat

I am curious
about the secrets in the wood
birth and death
not understood
form that musty smell
of earths decay
and the flirting romp of butterflies
who graceful pause
then shy
they flit
and ignore my eager need to play

poem by annie  
and murphy the golden retriever

Tuesday, April 2, 2013


                 With Easter just past I am topped up with chocolate.   Along with coffee it's one of my few addictions, but it reminds me of an 'anniedote' I shared with some friends a while back.

                 I bought a box of chocolates and decided to keep them all for ME.  I sneaked them past hubby and put them upstairs in a drawer for safe keeping.  He likes to pinch and squeeze every single one before he decides and takes one.  He's even been known to bite into one and put it back!  I hate that!  So these ones were mine... alllll  mine.  My favorite is the cherry cordial.  You know, that one where you close your eyes and roll the cherry around slowly in your mouth before you chomp down.

                 Anyway a few days later I went to get a treat.  One of those  'I have to have some chocolate and I have to have it now'  moments.  I was devastated to find a mouse had chewed through the corner of the box.

                 He had devoured only one chocolate.  

                 You guessed it.