Memories

I was looking at a group blog for people who like vintage items in and for their home. Someone gave a tour of their kitchen...lots O vintage there. In one of the photos was a picture of a coffee cup that was the same as the one my mother always used.

They scream Mother whenever I see one. She always had a cup half filled with coffee albeit mostly cold. It didn't matter. In fact a lot of the things shared on this blog remind me of things my mother had/collected.

It brought just a wee bit of sadness. We were not close...but we are alike in many ways. And unalike in many other ways. Maybe these few tears are for her passing. They've been a long time coming.

(And I hope I haven't broken any blogger-code by "borrowing" the picture of the cup...I cropped out everything else.)

Old work

This day might get by me without having an entry here if I don't do something and do it now. So I've flipped through my photos (nothing says 'entry' like a picture) looking for something to share. Here's an older painting I did of Cuba Gooding Jr from a photo. (yeah, like we wouldn't know its from a photo)



And a pencil drawing I did a couple of years ago..


If something comes up later tonight I'll be back to write some more. If not, then I won't. See how that works?

Children's Illustrator

I came across a delightful web site of the illustrator Janet Stevens. Lots of things to look at, lots of things to see.

I found it after seeing one of the books she illustrated on amazon.com, The Gates of the Wind, and then I went googling to see if she had a web site. And she did.

If I might put a plug in for her...if you are going to order a book for your grandchild (or child, that's okay too) from amazon, how about seeing if you can do it from her web site. I don't think it costs you anything and she gets a little kickback.

Thank you for your attention.

Added later: Here's another delightful web site...if you're a child at heart, and love great illustrations.

Food for Thought

It doesn't matter how badly you paint as long as you don't paint badly like other people.

~~George Moore

Don't skip over this quote too quickly or you might miss something profound....

White and attractive?

If you are not white and attractive (or white and wealthy), forget about it. You could go missing and who would give a fig...certainly not the national news.

But Blogger Power can assist....

Seems there is a missing pregnant woman in Pa. and there has been no national news coverage about it. White and cute Laci Peterson was all over the wires as is the blond teenager missing in Aruba. What's the difference? The missing woman in Pa. is black and hispanic.

I read a blog (that I can't find now...I was surfing) about it... it said bloggers had a petition going to pressure the national news agency to cover the story. I have seen short clips about the disappearance yesterday and today. However, when I looked on msnbc.news and cnn.com I couldn't find the story.

The golden people of the world, the beautiful people...through a fluke of genetics, get taken care of better. On the other side of the coin, they are also the ones kidnapped, raped, and murdered more often.

I'm not very coherent this morning, if at all, but I had to spew it out. LETS HEAR IT FOR THE UGLY PEOPLE OF THE WORLD!! YOU ROCK!!

Naked Rain Dance

What? You thought I would actually have animated visuals to use? That would be visual abuse in anyone's world.

I wonder how many times my blog will come up on google because I've used the word 'naked'.

I'm just a little under the weather. And isn't that an odd statement under the weather... I wonder what over the weather would mean. It would probably look like a plane ride or something. Flying high... bi-polar, perhaps? There seems to be a lot of people with this symptom, the bi-polar effect. Maybe it will be come the norm.

As you can see I come here today without purpose...I'm just leaving a footprint to prove that I exist.

And then reality

I've had the opportunity to be "free" for a short period of time. The other side of parental freedom is a type of singularity, as in isolation, alone-ness. Damn that green grass!

The last several nights I've not been able to sleep... not until the wee hours of the morning and tonight is no different. That's what's so great about being 'retired'...it makes no difference how long I stay up because I can sleep in for as long as I want.

I caught the rerun of Oregon Art Beat for this week. (All summer they are playing repeats and the viewers are the ones to select which shows are schedule.) Serena Barton was the featured visual artist. On first viewing I like her work.

A sense of Freedom

I desire a sense of freedom, a sense of parental freedom. The kind of feeling a parent gets once their off-spring are securely established as adults and are making practical decisions about their lives. They have their own lives that do not impact the parent any longer. A sense of freedom where the off-spring do not even consider calling the parent to solve a problem or change a situation. Now that's freedom.

My last "surprise from God" has chosen to remain tied at the waist. Its not necessarily an emotion bond but more a linked chain of finances and free babysitting.

It doesn't pay to take care of your child well....they will never want to leave home.

But let me not lose sight of the goal... a sense of parental freedom. Keep your eyes on the prize.
~~
"...people don't hold onto dreams if they don't have the capacity to fulfill them."
~Peter Seltzer

I signed on to my blog using faith that something will come to mind, something to share...something.....

But Nooooooo...nada. (I bet you didn't know I spoke a second language, huh.)

There's no water coming from the shower. A dribble, if that. I took the shower head apart to see if there was something to clean like a filter. Nothing there. Put the shower head back on and it looked like it was working again, but it fizzled back to a drizzle. A fizzled drizzle.

I needed a shower... I needed one bad....so badly that I opted for showering with the shower head half off. I thought the slim flow of water would be enough, but Nooooo. Well, depending upon how much is "enough"...it was enough to get the top layer off, but I skipped the attempt to wash my hair.

Everything here is fixed with a bandaid and gum... I don't hold out much hope for the shower to get any better than it ever was, but that would be better than it is now.

Maybe I'll think of something more later.....

London

Our hearts go out to our British friends.

Another day

I did some errands yesterday. One was to go to the Dollar Store. It was a nice feeling to know that I could purchase a few things. (I'm low maintenance) I wanted to pick up a few spiral notebooks so I could start doing "morning pages" as Julia Cameron calls them. Fortunately for me I checked at a supermarket before going to the Dollar Store. The supermarket had some on sale for $.29 so I got four of them. The Dollar Store is kewl, but sometimes things can be found cheaper elsewhere. In any event, its nice to have garbage bags and tin foil...little things that makes life easier.

And yes, you must expect entries of this caliber here...otherwise I wouldn't have anything to write about.

Speaking of writing, I've finally gotten around to reading Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down the Bones : freeing the writer within. She also promotes 'morning page' writing same as Julia. I am finding one thing to help me with this (scribbling whatever comes to mind when I first get up) is to keep the TV off. What an addiction! What a mindless addiction and waste of time. (At least morning TV is a waste. The public channel has some real kewl programs.) uh...er...and yes I do have the TV on as I key this. I have a weak character, what can I say.

And I must say, there's an awful lot of books out there about writing. I have been fortunate in coming across books that are entertaining even if you aren't a writer. If you are interested, I think Julia Cameron's The Right to Write is also very good. There are communities on the web dedicated to this book and sharing their experiences. And my last recommendation is Write It Down, Make It Happen by Henriette Anne Klauser. Its a very enjoyable read.

One of my favorite places in the world, the west end of the Columbia Gorge where everything is green and mossy.

Too Hot!!

We've been blessed this summer with cool and drizzly weather. At least its a blessing to me, the 'non-outdoorsy-person'. But today we are suppose to get up to the 90s and stay in the high 80s for the rest of the week. Not my idea of fun.

So far today I don't have anything to say, thus the weather report. So here's some 'eye candy'.



I 'copied' the following from an art instruction book (can't remember title, sorry).


Okay, I don't want to spoil you with more.

Don't Hesitate

"If you listen inside, the brush will want to run toward a color. What you really need and want is very close, and the brush goes to it quickly if you don't think.

~Michele Cassou
~~Life, Paint and Passion : Reclaiming the Magic of Spontaneous Expression.

How old is grandma?

A friend sent me this email... It sounds good until a little more thought is given to it in certain spots, but that's just me.
~~
How old is Grandma???

Guess how old this grandma would be, based on the following clues. (Your answer could also indicate your age.)

One evening a grandson was talking to his grandmother about current events.

The grandson asked his grandmother what she thought about the shootings at schools, the computer age, and just things in general.

The Grandma replied, "Well, let me think a minute, I was born before:

*television

*penicillin

*polio shots

*frozen foods

*Xerox

*contact lenses

*Frisbees and

*the pill

There was no:

*radar

*credit cards

*laser beams or

*ballpoint pens

Man had not yet invented:

*pantyhose

*air conditioners

*dishwashers

*clothes dryers and the clothes were hung out to dry in the fresh air and

*man hadn't yet walked on the moon


Your Grandfather and I got married first, . . . and then lived together. Every family had a father and a mother.

Until I was 25, I called every man older than me, "Sir".
And after I turned 25, I still called policemen and every man with a title "Sir."

We were before gay-rights, computer-dating, dual careers, daycare centers, and group therapy. Our lives were governed by the Ten Commandments, good judgment, and common sense.

We were taught to know the difference between right and wrong and to stand up and take responsibility for our actions. Serving your country was a privilege; living in this country was a bigger privilege.

We thought fast food was what people ate during Lent.

Having a meaningful relationship meant getting along with your cousins and draft dodgers were people who closed their front doors when the evening breeze started.

Time-sharing meant time the family spent together in the evenings and
weekends, not purchasing condominiums.

We never heard of FM radios, tape decks, CDs, electric typewriters, yogurt, or guys wearing earrings.

We listened to the Big Bands, Jack Benny, and the President's speeches
on our radios. And I don't ever remember any kid blowing his brains out listening to Tommy Dorsey.

If you saw anything with 'Made in Japan' on it, it was junk. The term 'making out' referred to how you did on your school exam. Pizza Hut, McDonald's, and instant coffee were unheard of.

We had 5 &10-cent stores where you could actually buy things for 5 and 10 cents. Ice-cream cones, phone calls, rides on a streetcar, and a Pepsi were all a nickel.

And if you didn't want to splurge, you could spend your nickel on enough stamps to mail 1 letter and 2 postcards.

You could buy a new Chevy Coupe for $600, . . . but who could afford one? Too bad, because gas was 11 cents a gallon.

In my day:

*"grass" was mowed,

*"coke" was a cold drink,

*"pot" was something your mother cooked in and

*"rock music" was your grandmother's lullaby.

*"Aids" were helpers in the Principal's office,

*"chip" meant a piece of wood,

*"hardware" was found in a hardware store and "software" wasn't
even a word.

And we were the last generation to actually believe that a lady needed a husband to have a baby. No wonder people call us "old and confused" and say there is a generation gap... and how old do you think I am?

I bet you have this real old lady in mind...If you do, you’re in for a surprise!

Read on to see -- pretty scary if you think about it and pretty sad at the same time.

This Woman would be only 58 years old!

Cityscape

Its Friday, the sun is out, the larder is full... what more could one ask for....



Photo of the Willamette River as it divides the city into uptown/downtown. Or is it downtown/uptown? Downtown, to me, always means the heart of the city where its all businesses and skyscrapers.

More Blessings

I've been blessed...again... and it looks like I won't be off-line after all. (see whining post a few days ago....or better yet, don't see it. It's not one of my better moments.) I didn't know I was so tense until I relaxed.

I came across a site that was having a Smallest Apartment decorating contest for those in New York City. I can't believe how small these places are...one said they only had 155 sq ft and another had/has only 186 sq ft. (scroll down the page half way to see the list of entries...check out the 5 finalist for sure.) The winners of the contest did awesome things with their place. Oh.. I came across this site via popstar64 on Saucydwellings, a Live Journal group blog.

And to top off this great day, it is finally sunshining here. We've been having lots of rain, which is my favorite weather, but sun shine makes a person smile more. But we'll see what I'm saying when it gets down right hot!

Thank you God for the blessing of wonderful friends!

We're not afraid

I wanted to share this web site called We're Not Afraid. People from all over the world are joining together. Please share the link with others you know.

I'm waiting for relatives and friends of these terrorists to say ENOUGH and to start turning them in for murder. Surely there must be some who stand on the sidelines that can alert the authorities.

Stella and her Groove

I just saw an interview on the Today Show with Terry McMillan, author of How Stella Got Her Groove Back. She is divorcing her "groove" guy because he's gay.

Based on surface information, I hope Terry wipes up the court room floor with his ass. Of course, he might enjoy the stimulation, but nonetheless.....

He used her to get a green card, then citizenship, used her for financial support and then the biggy....betrayed her by pretending to be someone else. He pretended to be a heterosexual man. And now he is trying to get the prenup annulled so she would have to support him for the rest of her life. Gawd, get real!

And on the other side, isn't this just a classic example of how, no matter how smart the woman, the emotion of love can cause all intelligence to disappear.

I've seen the movie "Waiting to Exhale" but I had not seen (or read) the Stella movie. I read an excerpt of the book on amazon.com and was surprised to see that Terry must not believe in periods or commas. I've read that 'run-on' sentences can be effective in some circumstances, but it just made me breathless. There was an entire page of narrative that didn't have one period or comma in it. But it seemed to have worked for her.

There's a blog I'm following where all common sense leaves as she searches for 'luv'. She is currently involved with someone who appears to be dysfunctional and a user. If they do hook up, she will be who he blames for all his problems. And she will be the mother figure for him... in more ways than one. I'm not going to share the link. You can understand why. Oh... and let me not leave you with the misunderstanding that I would avoid this 'blind luv' thing. Oh no... I've done my time with it. I think it helps me to read between the lines, as it were.

SF's 2004 Art Gallery Openings

I've spent quite a few hours 'attending' San Francisco gallery openings thanks to artbusiness.com's site. I still have about half to view. I'm glad I didn't have to attend in person. That would be a whole lotta walking and a lot of it for nothing.

Some of the art made me want to grab the artist and thumb their foreheads, in a grandmotherly way of course. How stupid is the public suppose to be anyway? Okay, you have a point, but still.....

There were plenty of works that I liked and if I had money I would be willing to purchase them, but for the most part... gag me with a paint brush why doncha!

They don't call me Crusty for nuthin'

(added later) I've left the wrong impression here. There was (and is) a lot of art that I liked. And for those with different tastes from me, there was plenty for them to chose from too. Still... a thump on the forehead would be in order, but only for a few. Whadda I know about art?

Bummer

I have been scrapping and scratching my way through this last long period of time thinking I would begin getting my retirement payments starting the middle of this month. I've even got it spent already. How silly of me. How absolutely silly. I won't get any money until the middle of August. The government isn't going to give out any payments until they know for sure that I haven't died first. Duh! And the odds of that happening are getting better and better.

Now its back to the ole drawing board... redo those plans... see if there are any plans.

Its kind of a bummer but I don't seem to be upset like I would have been thirty years ago when I was more naive. Now days I'm just senile.

I knew somewhere down deep that I shouldn't have started this blog. I don't know how long I'll have internet access.

I need a drink. Where's that water jug?

You know you're old when....

.... most of the art work you see on the web looks like deranged cartoon characters or soft-porn fairies. Yawn. Nothing but the difference of 40 years I guess.

What I learned today:

*-Nothing gets done unless I do it. (that's because I live alone, snicker)

*-Good intentions are nice, but they don't mean squat without follow-thru. I don't have any drive-thru, either. Now a drive-by, on the other hand... oh never mind.

*-No matter how many times a crackhead has looked through a car for misplaced drugs, hope springs eternal and they will look 'just one more time'. Nothing wrong with hope.

*-Oh, and from a pbs program, physical activity (exercise, even just walking) helps the brain grow new cells, new neurons, no matter how old a person. I'm in so much trouble!

*-I don't care for retro home decor. I spent a couple of hours looking at personal photos published by retro-bloggers (no, I don't know when to stop. Its an addiction to keep me from walking). The rooms looked so stark and uninviting.

What did you learn today? Oh wait... you can't comment. This #($&#$ site practices extortion by forcing a person to sign up just to comment....crummy side effects.

Be who you are

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."
~~Dr. Seuss

Just be prepared to be alone.

A Rant... and its not going to be pretty

About half the police force were at someone's home this morning because a man (a euphemism) was holed up in an apartment and he had a gun. He wasn't just holding it but he had shot it several times. Four hours later the cops got tired, I guess, and they shot in some tear gas. That got him out right away. They then had to shoot him with rubber bullets to take him into custody.

Turns out the 33 yr old "man" had lost his job, had shot at his grandmother, who he was living with, and was threatening suicide. Oh yeah, and he was high on meth. Okay, lets go down the list here, shall we?

1. What in the hell is a 33 yr old man doing living off his grandmother, for gawd sake! GROW THE FUCK UP! And don't come telling me 'she needed you'. Yeah...she needed you to shoot at her.

2. Awwww...and the poor baby lost his job, those ole meanies. Do you think it might have had something to do with, oh I don't know.... YOU BEING A METH ADDICT?! GROW THE FUCK UP!

3. And the poor dear was threatening suicide. Yeah right...like he'd do society a favor like that. GROW THE FUCK UP! And like he didn't know that if he would have stood up in a window with the gun in his hand that the cops would have helped him succeed. Its called "suicide by police" you idiot.

But he was saved. Isn't that wonderful ... another meth addict saved so he can go back into society. Even though he had shot at his grandmother and shot a round or two at the neighbors, you know, just for the fun of it, the cops were able to take him in without hurting him. A happy ending for the dear boy...er..."man".

Now...if the guy had been a teenager who stole a pickup truck and tried to make a run for it, the cops would have killed him. That's what happened last week. The truck was finally stopped and the cop walked up to the cab and killed the teenager. He didn't have any weapons on him, but damn if that policeman wasn't "afraid for his life". But for someone actually shooting a gun, they use rubber bullets. I know I feel safer.

The city is being over run with crack heads and meth addicts. These people are crazy and stealing anything they can get their hands on...and it makes no difference if you get in their way...you'll be "going down" as in 'how dare you try to stop me'.

I have no patience or sympathy for crack heads and meth addicts, so don't come telling me "gee, I didn't know I would become addicted."

GROW THE FUCK UP!

No title Necessary (that means I can't think of one)

Reporters interviewing a 104 year-old woman:
"And what do you think is the best thing about being 104?" the reporter asked.
"No peer pressure" she replied.

Holding London in our Hearts

What can I say. Nothing... nothing except to say I'm sure we are all holding the citizens (and visitors) of London in our hearts today. And may God have mercy on the Souls of the weaseling, cowardly, bastards who commit these acts of terror. May they choke the next time they use the word Allah.

It doesn't seem appropriate to write anything else right now.

Not a good day

Should one blog when they are having a bad day? I don’t know.

Outwardly, my day appears to be the same as all the rest of them, but inwardly I am sad. I don’t know why but I think it has to do with the condition of the world. Or more accurately, the condition of humanity. We are one sick species. Especially when we have all these talents and abilities that we use in perverted ways. Sometimes it just gets to be too much to bare… or should that be bear. I don’t know…don’t seem to care either.

Yesterday on the news I found out there are weirdoes and sickies out there that have diaper fetishes. Diaper fetishes for Christ sake. ‘do you have any pictures with the diapers pulled down more?’ What kind of gawd awful people have we made? And more importantly, what in the hell do we do with them? The underbelly of the internet brings them out to be seen.

The sexual perverts who turn out to be the nice guy down the street, the Little League coach, the priest. And the grandmother that bludgeons her grandson to death or the mother who goes berserk and kills her children, or worse, sells them to predators .

And I’m sitting here with all the windows open and the fan going trying to get the stink of crack out of my apartment that comes from the neighbors place. I can tell every time they fire up their pipe or whatever it is they use.

My heart is heavy.

Plus more depressing news. Seems most people feel those who are fat should be punished, made fun of and then run out of town. It use to be Oprah that was the big joke (pun intended), now its Kirstie Alley. (I don't know how her name is spelled, sorry) All it is truly is the comedy writers can't think of anything else so they take the cheap shots. I've stopped watching Jay Leno because of the lame comedy, if thats what you call it.

And if you don't have any money for dental care...there's another couple of thousand jokes and "yuck" comments. Like if people had a choice, they would chose to walk around with bad teeth. But lets make mean comments and have a laugh at their expense.

This species really needs to be eliminated. Maybe a "do over" would help.

About nothing....

I seem to be silent today. At least so far.

Just another day

"Big Head Boy" (c)



Sometimes I amaze myself. First of all, I wake up each morning...so far anyway. But beyond that I'm amazed that I can find something to write about here on the ole blog considering what a boring life I lead. It suits me, but its boring nonetheless. "So...whadda ya goin' to write about today?' you may ask. I don't know...lets see where it goes.

....

....

That's about it.

I watched the wee one today while mom and the Tornado Boy went grocery shopping. Then I helped unload the groceries. Mom put on a pitiful look and asked if I could continue watching the baby while she makes a quick run down the street. "I'll be back in just a short while. I need a break." Lucky for her I know what "need a break" means...so I caved and said okay.

The wee one was having a tough time with cramps. And if he is having a tough time, then so am I. Four hours of holding him...my shoulder hurts. And yes, I'm a wussie. But mom and T. boy are back and T. Boy is at his best....asleep. I'm set free to do whatever it is I do.

And amazingly the afternoon is almost over. Where'd it go??

Parenthood

Now don't get your thong all twisted, cause I'm speaking in generalities here... but why are parents always the dumb ones? Every one of my adult children don't think I ever know what I'm talking about. Granted, there may be a reason for that, but still....

I'm guilty of this with my own mother. Towards the end of her life she would often get in yelling matches with others (but not me, I wasn't around that much). Someone once asked her why and she replied 'because no one is listening to what I am saying!' So she felt she had to talk louder to get through. I bet if they would have stated her position back to her so she knew they understood what she was saying, a lot of yelling and anger could have been avoided. It wouldn't mean they agreed with her... but it would mean they understood what she was trying to say.

Her talents did not include good oral communication skills. Me either. Thank goodness for blogs.

You know what makes blogs so great? It's because you can take as long as you want to fully state what it is you want to say without anyone interrupting you.

I came across a web site of an artist I would like to bring to your attention... Natalie del Villar. (Her link is also on the sidebar.) I like her work and particularly her portraits. I encourage you to check her out. Thank you.

Some Eye Candy

I wanted to post some "eye candy", as I've heard it called. I know I like to see pictures of things on people's blogs. I've probably shared these with my cyber friends, but now I'm a blogger...my blog needs it. (I hope I remember how to do it.)



Above is a painting I did from the photo below:



A standard flower photo:


I guess that's enough for now.

HTML Goodies

Its a quiet Sunday here. The sound of small fireworks can be heard off and on and the smell of charcoal can be smelled. That is, smelled in between getting wafts of some other yucky odor. I think the new neighbor is smoking crack. I smell this strange "hot plastic" smell. Now I'm sitting here wondering if I'm feeling any effects of inhaling the odor. Could be psychosomatic, but I almost feel like getting up and doing the dishes. And we know that is not normal.

I want to mind my own business as long as nothing affects others...but if its going to effect me then...then...I'm not sure what to do. I'm toying with the idea of mentioning it to the property management company, but I don't know if they will do anything. Oh well....

I've added another link that can be handy if you want to find out how to code something. HTML Goodies Its on the side bar too, for later access.

Ciao for now.

Tools for Writers...or, I added a link!

WOOT WOOT WOOT!!

I added a 'hot' link... on the sidebar where it belongs... all by myself. Okay, okay...so blogger.com had good instructions...but I did it!!! There's no stopping me now.

If you are a writer or a wannabe, these tools may help. If you are an experienced writer, then you are probably already using them. (note: so I think experienced writers are going to be reading my blog...BWAH HA HA HA HA HA.)

My next goal is to really understand what a tag is and what it does.

More opportunity to practice acceptance

For those who may not know, I live in an inexpensive apartment (that means its kind of a dump) and it does me well enough. I don't require external niceties...which is good, considering my situation. The area is full of crack heads, drugs, prostitution...everything that goes with poverty. There were two empty apts for several months. They have now been rented.

I talked to one of the new neighbors. Actually, she talked to me and I just nodded my head. She was stoked...couldn't stand still at all and just running her mouth lickity split. Obviously speeding. She looked old, but that doesn't mean she is...it just means a hard life.

Turns out she was one of the people who asked me for a cigarette several months back. She hit me when I was in a bitchy mood and I told her in no uncertain terms to never ever ask me for a cigarette again. (She had come running across the street from where she was waiting for a bus the moment she saw me come out to the porch. She said she was the neice of the guy in the apt. next to mine...like that was suppose to make it okay.) I did give her the cigarette I was going to smoke however...but she knows not to ever ask me again. She said she remembered that.

If that sounds harsh, please understand that I'm post-menopausal and dangerous. Plus the fact that I'm asked over and over and over and over again for cigarettes... almost to the point of feeling like a prisoner in my own home. I don't have money to supply the community with smokes... I barely have enough for myself.

But now I have the opportunity to be accepting... up to a point. I have the feeling she might not be here long. I've heard that crack has a unique odor when being smoked, but I don't know what it is... last night I kept smelling wafts of something like heated plastic and wondered if it was drugs. (I know what weed smells like and this wasn't it.)

On a different subject: Today when I came to post here I no longer had several format options....I wonder what happened to them. For example, I didn't have the "thingy" to make the text yellow for ease of reading against the black background. There's a way to manually put it in, I think. Hopefully I'll find the code for it.

(later) I had this great html instruction site that I checked out. I found codes for changing the text color. I don't know if it will affect how hot links display if I try to make the entire text field a color. I'll test later.

PS Sexual offenders should never ever be let out of prison. Another murdered child was just mentioned on the news.

The Daily Dirge

I watched my grandson (age still expressed in months) today while mom and the wee one (2 months) went shopping. I'm not sure exactly how much shopping was done, but it took six hours and did not include any groceries.

I watch D at their apt. thinking I wouldn't have to be saying "no" too much. Yeah, right. Touchy, feely, pushy, pully... but we had a good time. He'd give me a glowering look and I would return my own devil eye at him. All it did was lead to fits of giggling on his part and then it would suck me into it too. But all in all, we enjoyed the time.

Oh a cute movie is coming on...gotta go. I'll be back later. I've found the coding to hot link using words and I want to try it.

(5 min. later) Not the movie I thought it was... not cute, but corny. Now, where was I.....

I came across a web site about the artist Jean-Michel Basquiat. I still don't understand how his art became such a 'hit' but I'm working on opening my mind more. But the web site is kewl... with music too. Check it out.

I don't seem to have any more dirge to talk about right now, although I know its in me somewhere.