True Love

Look At This…: loyal little bird

The photographs you are about to see show how a very determined male bird tries to save his female mate that has been seriously injured.
Here the female bird is injured and her condition is not good.
The male bird brings her food and attends to her with love and compassion.
Although he tries to help her, she is too badly injured and dies.
He is shocked over her death and tries desperately to bring her back to life, trying to pull her up and make her move.
He finally realizes that his sweetheart has passed away and will never come back to him, and brokenhearted - he cries over his lost love.
He stands by her side, calling and crying for help. He is devastated by her death.
Finally realizing that she will never return to him, he stands beside her lifeless body with great sadness and sorrow, unable to leave her side.
The photos of these two birds are said to have been taken in the Republic of the Ukraine. This male bird was bound and determined to save his female mate. The photographer sold these pictures for a small price to one of the most famous newspapers in France. All the copies of that newspaper were sold out on the day they published these photos.

I borrowed this from a site listed below. It appears many people have re-posted this. I can see why. [reaches for a tissue, for the 12th time]

http://qomaspeakup.tumblr.com/post/241000759/eleasha-drspencerreid

Superman loves me just like this...

without a doubt... he does.

I am so blessed.

Are You A Free Spirit?

Silver Rose Band, 1975

That's me on the far right in my first band, Silver Rose. I was the lead vocalist, and wrote the lyrics for most of our songs. That's my bicycle leaning on the fence. That's how I got to band practice most days... or to work.... or to play.... or wherever my two wheels would take me. Ahhhh... memories. And that's an overall skirt I'm wearing. I wore this nearly everyday, and loved it with a passion. Looking back, I see I've always been a free spirit. Are you?

C'mon... Join the festivities on November 20, 2009. You don't even have to leave your house. Put on a pair of your overalls, and snap a pic. Post it on your blog (let us know), send it to me, add it to facebook or the gang of other free spirits in our flickr group. Or wear them all day long like I will be.

Tell me how you're a free spirit. With or without monkey pants.... errr I mean sassy overalls. Please visit Niels who thought this whole thing up. International Overall Day Nov 20 ~Sassy~

International Overall Day November 20, 2009

You are officially invited to join me and 1000's of others as we participate in a totally fun way to wear your monkey pants! Please scroll down for the link, and some ideas how you, and yours, can wear your overalls.... Yep...even Opie Taylor will be sporting a pair. Yes.... he will probably be high on doggy downers to do it but he will. Well.... I think he will. [Can you say photoshop???] OK at least I know I will be. I'd love to have you join me in this special day. My friend Niels will help you if you have any questions.

Yes, overalls CAN be sessy....

Yikes...

Please do NOT show Opie Taylor the picture above
or I'll NEVER be able to get him in his overalls...

Monkey pants at their finest!

Anyway you look at it...

This is going to be FUN!

On my side bar is the official link for the first annual International Overall Day November 20, 2009, and a button you can add to your page. C'mon!!! Let's make history!

Inspired Writing?

~A Frost Covered Message of Hope~

Do you believe in inspired writing? Has it ever happened to you? A wave of insights, images, or thoughts so profound you must stop at once, grab a pen, and paper in hopes to capture it before it's gone. *Poof* The words come like waves, and images, in an audible voice inside your head that is your voice but is not your voice. The urge resonates deep within your soul, and you know it is a message, an encouragement, a truth you need to hear and serves as a road map of where you've been or where you need to go.

I've had this happen to me many times, especially with song writing, or when my heart was seeking solace, answers, or peace. It happened yesterday after I read all of your loving comments, emails and posts on Facebook about my post, "Crashing Into Me." I was overwhelmed, in a good way, by your love, support, and caring. I started crying, the good kind of crying that cleanses a heart. I could not hold back the flood of tears that covered my cheeks in a wet, warm shower of tender, healing kisses.

I got up to get a tissue and looked outside the kitchen window. There had been a heavy frost the night before, and the sun had just poked her smiling face up over the Lily Pad. I saw a patch of grass that had been thawed by the morning light. It was nestled between long fingers of frost still clutching the hillside like a vice, and instantly saw it as a parallel to my brain, my trauma, and what it feels like being buried under layers of PTSD.

Below is what came to me in a flood, and a flurry, of handwritten words that took less than 5 minutes to compose in one of my art journals. I am sharing it with you with no editing---for when it comes from the Universe, God, your Higher Power or whatever you choose to call it--it needs no editing. It is what it is---just as it is.

"This morning the earth, the grass, the fallen leaves were covered in frost--icy white and sparkling--a blanket of frigid stars that cover life, the former warmth of summer now gone. Soon the sun peeked up behind the trees that line my sky, like soldiers with no place to go except to guard the hilltop, and shade the yard.

As the sun crawled through a break in the trees she laughed at the frost and the frost ran away. Dewy green patches came alive like Easter grass. Her arms had not yet reached all the shadows or shaded areas--but she wasn't worried or hurried. She knows her power and is not afraid of doing too little or too much at once. She waits for the birds to sing a song of joy as they flit and fly in her warmth.

My eyes grabbed a hold of this splendid moment as a recognition--a validation--a metaphor. Part of my brain is sleeping under a frost covered grave. It doesn't know the sunshine, "the truth", is nearby--shining like a torch to break up and melt the lies. The fears. The scary places that so desperately need some truth, some love, some understanding, some forgiveness, some kindness, some affirmations, some holding, cuddling--saying it's OK. It has been cold, and it has been so very lonely.

Crevices fill up with debris--sometimes they need a howling wind to stir them--awaken them to the need to be free of the leftovers life deposited in their gullets. In the trees a crow caws and scoffs at the sun--preferring the frosty places. It's a scavenger, waiting.

But the sun--my heart, my soul, my rope to the heavens--just keeps climbing over the shadows. The clock is in motion and nothing can stop the spinning wheels of renewed life except God or the Universe her/himself. How lovely, and fresh, and baby green is the grass (all the places I buried my fears) when they've been shown the light.

Oh sunshine--come in. I welcome you. I need you. I've been cold for far too long. This little bird is going to fly! No frosty fingers will hold me down, away from a sunshine sky."

I took this photo about an hour
after I wrote the love letter from the Universe.
This little bird was singing from its heart,
basking in the sunlight.

Crashing Into Me

Sorry to post such a graphic picture. Please read on. I need your support for the next leg of my healing journey.

I've never posted a picture on my blog of the vehicle from my accident (R.I.P. you died so we would live) but I have to vent. I felt much like our van looked like after the accident when I left my psychiatrist after my visit last Friday. I left feeling broadsided by his words, crushed, and waiting for a tow truck to haul my carcass off to the graveyard.

My body took a hit from a car speeding at 70 MPH with such a force I still feel it in my body 1.5 years later, plus I also took a brutal hit to my mind; fear, stress, anxiety, and trauma. It's shaken me like a rag doll with razor blade teeth, and still howls at me every time I get into an automobile. But I think there is nothing worse than effects of words by a calloused soul who has no ability to connect, and apparently has no desire to even if he could.

The medications prescribed to me have been nuclear powered. They've also had volcanic side effects: major insomnia, major intestinal and stomach problems, agitation, panic attacks, extreme anxiety, heart palpitations, night sweats, apathy, numbness to life, neither joyful or sad, sluggishness, lethargic, decreased sex drive or ability to orgasm... Up, and down... up and down... I could go on, and on about the side effects. Some of you know exactly what I'm talking about. I am in no way telling people to not take a prescribed medication but my LORD what is the sane thing to do????? Either way I have the same symptoms. PTSD or Side Effects.... so what do I do?

At first I pushed through taking each medication as prescribed, ever hopeful I'd been given a "magic" pill. But [for me] there is no magic pill. All the various medications had the same bad side effects when I took them. Later I started saying no, and asking to try to something else. My psychiatrist begrudgingly agreed each time but would always coax me back to another heavier type of medication.

What's made this entire process an even worse pill to swallow is that this man never looked at me when I sat at his desk. He just looked at his computer screen clicking away. I rarely spent more than 5 minutes in his office. I hated to go but didn't think I had a choice. Then for a few months I had some relief when he set me up to see one of his counselors, and she had such a genuine compassion for people, I continued to go once a month or more as needed. However she was pregnant, and never returned after she had her baby. I was crushed hearing this, and wavered whether or not to go back at all.

I asked Superman to go in with me, which of course, he valiantly agreed to. He was as appalled as I had been at his lack of "desk-side manner". In fact, the doctor seemed a bit agitated I had asked Superman come in with me. That should have been a huge CLUE to get help elsewhere. But instead I procrastinated about going back in again. The sudden move, my Mom, and needing to see her before her surgery, etc, etc.... I validated every reason but the truth is I HATED how I felt being around this doctor. But eventually I needed to go back so I made the dreaded appointment which was this past Friday.

He scolded me for not coming in to see him for 2.5 months. I explained about the move from the Tree House , and that I also depend on Superman to take me to my appointments, and sometimes it's hard for him to leave his business to help me. Blah...BLAH, blah.... When asked about another medication he'd prescribed me and how I was doing on it---I told him I was too afraid to take it for all the side effects which pissed him off. It was the drug Ab----y. You've seen the ads...."If your anti-depression medication isn't working for you... you may need another pill to boost your antidepressant." Then the last two thirds of the commercial lists all the frigging side effects. Oh YES please I want a whole f....king gallon of those!

I asked him if he'd ever been in a bad auto accident.... which he answered he had. He told me he totaled his car, called his insurance company, got a rental car in 5 minutes, and he drove off happy as a bee. [Well goody for you!] Next he told me he had patients he had "healed" from various "prestigious" companies [he proudly named them off like a list of personal credentials] within 3-6 months. I asked him if their jobs included an intense driving schedule like my job had, 2500-3000 miles per month. He said that didn't matter but because I'd asked him, he told me.

Then he told me not to come back.

I know it's not entirely his fault. It is the way we do business here in America. The drug companies dictate what incomes/kick-backs the doctors make, and so on, and so on. I know there are good doctors , and bad ones. I also know it's MY body, MY mental health, and MY responsibility to take care of myself. No one else will. So this is why I've decided to undergo treatment from a specific PTSD psychologist I told you all I was going to go see.

The meeting went well. I really, really like this guy. He told me it will be hard at times, and I will probably hate him on some days..... But I want to get well. I am willing to do whatever it takes to get my life back, my mind back. PTSD is just now being recognized, and talked about, as the beast it is. Our soldiers are coming home from the war, and our Vets, from previous wars, have been neglected so horribly. [don't get me started on this one...grrrrrr] But PTSD also happens to regular people just like myself. Trauma is trauma. Bottom line.

I begin what will be an intense program next Monday night. He's supportive of my choice to try to do this without heavy medications, and eventually none at all. I feel so free now. I believe I found a tiny opening in the Universe to squeeze into a window of recovery, healing, and wholeness again.

The pic above shows the narrow spot our van hit on the guard rail on the overpass before it flipped, and went down a steep, rocky hill. A few inches either way and we would have hit concrete. Those inches were just many of the miracles that happened, and allowed us to live that day. The divot you see in the rocks is where the van landed [my side, shotgun] after it flipped. I still feel the impact in my bones, my cells, my memories, and my dreams.

Maybe, just maybe.... I've crossed through another narrow passage way to a miracle. I have to believe it to receive it. And........

I will get well.

Barn Babe

I loved taking these pics of the barns in KY.
Yep... I'm a Barn Babe.

Buggy Lust

I took these shots while traveling the back roads to my Mom's house in KY a couple of weeks ago. I loved the pace, the clickity-clack of the horse's hooves on the asphalt. I loved the simplicity of life, and the peacefulness that traveled as an unseen, but ever so present passenger in the wagon.

I had an instant affinity for these boys with rosy cheeks heading home, or nowhere in particular, on the highway that afternoon. For a moment I felt a calmness wash over my brain; my brain that struggles to cope when vehicles race ahead to pass me on the highway. The brain that wants to put the brakes on, and never leave the house. The brain that quietly screams driving directions to anyone driving within range--except these lads in their buggy. The brain that temporarily forgot it was under attack by images, fears, and memories that day on a quiet Kentucky country road.

I was filled with buggy lust as the horse clipped down the road at a safe pace. Clippity-clop...clippity-clop. Hooves singing a lullaby of tranquility to my mind; the mind that normally hears even the slightest squeal of brakes or sudden engine surges of trucks, cars or motorcycles. I smiled like a child watching a circus act at the boys in their buggy, and waved like a tacky tourist--camera in hand to catch a frame or two of bliss. The kind of bliss I used to have riding in a car with no voices chasing me down like roadkill about to happen.

The boys smiled back. I told myself to hold onto their smiles. Hold onto the moment as though it were a drug I could take that wouldn't make me groggy. I've missed seeing the beauty being on the highway can bring. I miss the ability to breath normally, relaxed, and carefree inside a car. But for just a few minutes I did find myself in the moment, and not in the past, that day on the trip to my Mom's. But unfortunately it didn't last long enough. No, not nearly long enough.

Superman and I were scheduled to make a flight to Salt Lake City the following week after the unexpected trip to visit my Mom before her surgery. We had to cancel our flights. My body, and my mind couldn't take any more stress. Superman never once made me feel guilty for not taking our previously planned trip to Utah. I had to put on my big girl panties just to say yes to making a flight. With PTSD anything that feels like you are not in control can cause a crash inside your head without ever leaving your house. Sometimes I just want to hole up, and never leave .... just so I won't feel helpless or afraid. But that's not living... it's dying a slow death.

I'm proud of myself for making such a long trip in a car. It took us nearly twice as long to get to my Mom's, and then return back home, with all the frequent stops, and traveling on back roads instead of major highways. But in making the trip, I learned I need more help to heal. I need tools not drugs. I've been in treatment both with a psychiatrist, and a lovely counselor for a year and a half since the auto accident. I stopped going to both couple of months ago. Now I see I still need help. The trip nudged me to make an appointment with a specialist who works specifically with trauma victims like myself who have PTSD.

I'm going tomorrow at 2:00. Hopefully, he can help me make the next leg of my journey to wholeness without drugs. One day I'll be able to settle my heart down when it races like a train without an engineer on my own. One day I'll smile at other drivers on the highway just like these boys smiled at me.

Yes, one day.....
I will be the pony and not the cart.

Autumn Blessings

I love this time of year especially Halloween. As a kid I'd plan all year what my costume would be. How wonderful to be blessed with my own reason to celebrate the day in yet another way when I grew up.

Taken at the Shaker Village in KY.

My little pumpkin at one year old.
He was born on October 31.

Now he has a pumpkin of his very own.

So many wonderful reasons to celebrate life today.
Happy Birthday, son.
~I love you~
~~~~~~~~

And soon we will gather at the table for another special holiday.
I can't believe Thanksgiving is just around the corner.

"What? Thanksgiving?? Holy Turkey Gizzards!!"

Almost a Monk

A quick update on my status. My cell phone was suffocated and permanently damaged by moisture. Next time I won't use my bra as a pocket to carry my cell while hiking, and photographing the lovely fall foliage....

My power cord to my laptop took a swan dive with the cell phone, and I must bury them side by side. Apparently they mated for life while I wasn't looking. I guess they saw sparks when they looked at each other....

So that left me without a cell phone, and the internet. Oh that's not all folks.... My car was in for servicing, and the warranty company I have my car covered under never responded so my car was in the shop for 3.5 days!! No phone, no Internet, and no car. Monk Ville on the mountain top..... which is NOT a bad thing at all. It just made me aware how dependent I am on things, and the fear of being cut off from the world. I don't think our generation could have survived 100 years ago.... We don't know how to be by ourselves---and I'm not talking about holing up in your room with your computer. I mean being completely isolated from other people, and depending wholly on yourself for survival.

So Superman flew in with his laptop, his cell phone for me to use while mine are being fixed, and took me to pick up my car... PLUS he brought me an inflatable bed.... WHY an inflatable bed you ask?????? Why??? Why???? Why???? Because of this.....

In the midst of all this excitement came the BEST news ever. [no not the news that I could have become a Monk and crafted my "Ommmmmmsssss". While that is appealing, I don't look that cute in an orange tunic and a shaved head. [yes, I know that is a stereotype...just trying to make you yuckity-yuck a bit]

Here's the news!!!!

My son, daughter-in-law and adorable grandson, Emery, are moving back home. They will be in tonight, U-Haul and all. You all know how hard it's been for me not being able to drive that far to see them with my PTSD. Grand kids don't stay little so you don't get to see their growth, and cuteness unfold unless they're close by. And the times I've just wanted to hug my son, or hang out with my daughter-in-law, made me sad that I couldn't or play with my grandson. I've missed them so much.

They'll be staying with me until they find a new place, and this weekend we'll be celebrating Jake's birthday. He was born on Halloween 24 years ago. I was so ecstatic I was going to have a baby on Halloween, my favorite holiday, I nearly burst right there on the spot. I had a marker pen in my hand ready to draw a jack-o-lantern on my tummy to go to the hospital "dressed up" for the occasion.... but lost my sense of humor as things rapidly progressed. My little pumpkin was born with a stunningly beautiful head of hair in the most amazing color of red I'd ever seen.
People stopped us on the street or wherever we went, and ohhhhhhh'ed and awwwwwww'ed about how gorgous he [and his hair] was.

Now people do this with Emery. His Mama has a beautiful blog, "Sweetest Thing", all about Emery, if any of you care to take a peek. Much to my joy, Emery was born with his Daddy's hair. Click on her blog title and it will take you there.

I believe this is a gift. Happy Birthday to me! Oh wait.... I mean happy Birthday dear Jake!!!! Happy Birthday to you!!!!

A Colorful Way to Recycle

More pics from the road trip to KY.
We found this car sitting on the side of the road as a
colorful sign for an antique store.
Plus you can scarf down some great cookin'...

Yes, I give this car a thumbs up for color
and all it's junk is out in the open not in the trunk.

As George Carlin said, "To you it's my junk...to me it's my stuff."
I also have a gift of finding great junk left on the roadside.
So my car has resembled this one
when I hauled my treasures home.
Yeah, baby, I have lots of gifts.....
Just ask my friends...
~They want most of the stuff I've hauled home~
Recycling at its finest....

I have a few more pics to show of the trip to my Mom's in KY, then I'll share with everyone what I learned about myself regarding my PTSD, and my progress with it. I needed some time to digest all the things I experienced being in a car for such a long trip. Bottom line, I did it. Fears and all, I did it! But sharing it helps it get smaller in my mind. Does that make sense to you???

Maybe if I drove a colorful car like this one people would stay the heck out of my way on the road! Hmmmmmm..... [makes a memo to herself to slap some bright paint on her car....]...[or collage it.... yeah, baby!!]

No Ordinary Ass

Look it's Eeyore...

Told ya he was no ordinary ass. He lives in Ky. Shhhhhhh.....

Kentucky Cool Cats

~Some very cool cats we met in Kentucky~

Hamlet, the barn cat.
This is how he was introduced to us
by the young woman in the blue dress.

One of Hamlet's smoking hot girlfriends. Meowwwzerz!

Hippie Hearts and Sisters Forever

My trip home to visit my Mom was needed. Not only did she need me but I needed her, too. What is it about going home that can stir up so many emotions inside you? I didn't expect to get such a sweet gift from my sister, Vicky. I'll tell you about it in a minute...

She was home, too, taking care of some business. Vicky lives in Alaska now, and is a wildlife photographer. She recently captured a video of a whale coming into their small village port which a worldwide green movement [to be announced later] asked her to contribute it to a new documentary they are making. Apparently she caught something on film they'd never witnessed a whale do before. How cool is that????

Vicky makes cards from her photography and I got to see her collection while I was home. I'm in awe of her work, but I'm even more bedazzled about her courage to take off on her own to a very remote part of Alaska to live her dream of being a photographer. How many of us sit on lifetime dreams and watch them wither away as though they had no merit? I think the story below may explain why she grew up wanting to capture nature, and wildlife. And why I want to be that hippie girl I was again. I think she [me] was packing the tools in her overalls I need now to help me get over my PTSD. And I'll bet she's still there waiting for me to rediscover her as I work through PTSD today. By Jove!! I think I'm on to something!!!!!

The gift is the picture above. I literally cried when I saw it. I didn't even know this picture existed until Vicky pulled out an album buried in her cedar chest. She loaned it to me to scan for my personal use. I vividly remember the trip to West Virginia for my Dad's family reunion that this picture was taken at. I was a California girl, a hippie girl all of 19 years old, traveling through the mountains of West Virginia in a classic 1961 Thunderbird. Oh... that car was a beaut! Jet black with a plush, red leather interior. The steering wheel slid to the left and right to allow you easier access to get in, and out, of the car. Some of you are nodding your heads. You know exactly how cool that car was.

I was married to Greg, my first husband. He was a Seabee I'd met while he was stationed at the Port Hueneme Naval base in Oxnard, CA. He was a hippie at heart, too, and even in uniform, he didn't "conform" to the status quot. He cleverly hid his long hair under a wig while he was enlisted, so when he was discharged his hair came down below his collar. We left CA as hippies traveling to Ohio in that car that stood out a wee bit [OK a whole lot....] with a bummer sticker plastered on the back that said, "Lick Dick in 72". It was a sign of the times. It was after all, the 70's.

Did you just gasp??? Or laugh??? That ought to tell you how people across most of the US responded to us when we drove through town. Most people didn't laugh but we thought it was hysterical. We'd go into a restaurant for breakfast, and by the time we left, the bumper sticker had been ripped off. Looking back I imagine we were lucky we didn't get our heads ripped off traveling through TX, OK, and a few other states in the Bible belt. Oh my... But we had a huge batch of the bumper stickers, and would just slap another one on to cover up the shredded remains of the previous sticker.

Youth has its blindness and other parts of the anatomy that make it hard to cross your legs without yelping. I suppose that's why I preferred overalls in the early 70's.... to give me room for all that "cocky attitude" between my legs.

So there we were: Me, Vicky, Greg, and Cheryl, [my sister-in-law who was married to my brother Larry who was in Vietnam at the time] trekking through the mountains in a 62 Thunderbird in God's country for a family reunion. I might add we still had the novel bumper sticker in place on the back... And I suppose we may have stood out just a wee bit, too, standing on the side of the road with our mouths gaping wide open watching some live cow action.

Cheryl and I had looked over at field and saw a bull, and a cow doing the nasty "right out there" in front of God, and everyone. We demanded Greg pull over. So to oblige two screaming, giggling, young women, and one teenager saying, "OMG!!!! Those cows are doing it!!!!" Actually, I believe we used a different adverb but you catch my drift.... He pulled off the road in a Duke's of Hazzard tail spin with gravel, and dust shooting behind the car like bullets. We watched in awe of nature, and in shock of cows, well... just being cows. We never saw that on Wild Kingdom, and everyone knows hippies love nature.

I remember the roads getting narrower, eventually becoming dirt roads instead paved ones. There are no street signs in mountainous rural areas, and to city slicker hippies like we were, it became obvious we were lost. I'll never forget the man and woman we stopped to get directions from. It was literally, "Well ya'll got a fer piece ta go. I reckon ya'll best be headin' down Old Man Clark's road till ya'll see the fence by the crick at Miller's landin'. Take a left at Owl Holler, and head north fer a spell. Past the old mine, and I spect' about two corn fields on down.. is where yer folks lives."

Good dang thing I hadn't seen the movie "Deliverance" yet.... Oh boy.....

It turned out to be the neatest family reunion I'd ever been to, nor have been to since. I loved the mountain people, their warmth, sweet spirits, and hospitality even though I found out later I was probably eating squirrel and not beef. [shiver] Ahhhh, memories.

The picture above was taken at the reunion. I had another reunion this past week with my family. It did my heart good. I'll be posting pics, and telling stories about my trip this week. I got some incredible shots of KY, and did a special photo shoot for one of my nieces, Gabby. I'm still saying, "Ya'll...." and am loving every sappy, syrupy, sugar filled tweak I can add to it. Yep, I embrace my dorkiness, and love my overalls, my genuine Woodstock Lily-fied sassy pants.

If any of you would be interested in Vicky's cards, let me know. I'll get you her contact info. You'll want to keep all of them....just to warn you in advance of how amazing her shots are.

Contest Winner!!!

We have a winner!!!!!!

There was a total of 94 entries! 94!!!! WOW! Superman and I printed them up using the hotel's printer since we are still on the trip to visit my Mom. So I apologize for being a day late announcing the winner. Birthday celebrations, and a flurry of family visitations made it for a very late night.... [details soon to follow]

~BUT we do have a winner, and here's how we did it~

Every name had its own slip of paper.

Including a name to go with each person
who liked Lily Pad as the prospective new name.

We hand cut each one...

Folded up all 94 entries....

Put them in my favorite hat...

Superman mixed them all up and.....

Handpicked the winner.....

Are you dying to know??????

I had butterflies waiting for him to unfold the winner.....

Lily Pad entered by Lisa @ Eco Yogini

Her blog is delightful!!!! ~check it out~

But first, please help me congratulate her!!!

I am ecstatic!! Giddy!!!! Elated!!!!

Lily Pad

Thank you so much everyone for making this a fun, enjoyable and creative experience! Everyone of you are winners in my book for participating, and especially for being such great friends, and followers! Email me, Lisa!!!! Let's get started planning your painting!!!!