Los tres amigos--Gosh! It's cold and dreary and windy today. These egrets caught my eye as I was cleaning house today, so I grabbed my camera and hubby's huge sweatshirt with the hood and braved the north wind to get a picture--albeit not a good picture, but still a picture...
Ordinarily I look at these big pelicans flying and think how awesome it would be to be a bird--but today??? Today they're struggling in this cold north wind...
Lake Jackson's Very Own Polar Bear Club
Here's Kay--Kay doesn't go far without her coffee mug. She's a joy in my life, too--one very special lady!
This is my mom (in front) and Melda--saying, "Come in Renee--the water's fine! My mom and I can't believe we've stuck with this for nearly a year. We're both feeling so much better, and now my mom has a social life! :)
This was taken before we "took the plunge". The hardest part is talking ourselves into getting in the pool. Here's Erika and my mom--you see Carl in the background. He's our brave male--our very own "energizer bunny". Guarantee, he'll be in the water first trying to convince us, "It's great!"
See? I told you so!
Little acorns--yet, what potential lies in a little acorn. Doesn't appear to have a large oak tree inside, does it? Yet that's the potential. But only a few acorns make it to oak tree. This morning, as I was preparing these acorns to be used in day of prayer at my church next month, I wound up a little meloncholy considering those acorns that don't reach their full potential--that never become a giant oak tree. We're not even through January of this new year, and already three families that I'm connected to in some way have lost young people. First, my friend Bunny lost a 19-year old granson to the war in Iraq, then another friend, Kristi, lost a 16-year old niece in a car accident. And last night, a young man from our church lost his battle with cancer. Lost potential--no chance to become full-grown oak trees. Yet, somehow each of these kids filled the years they lived with purpose. Their lives marked many, many people. They made a difference. Still, I don't want to lose anymore kids. I want the acorns to fulfill their destiny so they can shade our world. I want kids to grow up and live to be old men and women.
Meet some of the members of my CHRP team (Christ Renews His Parish Team). We've been together as a team since June, 2004. Some of us got together tonight and celebrated a big step forward in life--Diana is about to be 50 (next weekend)! The 50's have been some of my most significant years, so I was very eager to send her into this time with a big "hoo-rah!" Above, from left to right, Trisha Langner, Cassie Tijerina, me, Diana (the BD girl) Miles, Peggy Robinson, and Mary Jean Adams, having dinner at Red Snapper Inn, Surfside, Texas--one of Diana's favorite eating spots!
Later we got together at friend, Rosie Estrata's house in Lake Jackson. Here's Mary Jean, Trisha, and Diana--CHEERS! :)
Someone gave Diana a blessing by baptizing her in the spirit (of champagne, that is), and Peggy sops her head so that she doesn't drip on Rosie's carpet!
Momma Diana with son Troy--who by the way, won his tennis tournament this afternoon. Good luck tomorrow, Troy!
What a special group of people--Rosie Estrada (we partied at her house), Gina Childress and hubby Steven came in from Houston (glad they're back in Texas!), Trisha, Mary Jean, Peggy, Diana, and Cassie. We're missing some of our team members, but maybe next time!
And one more shot of the birthday girl! She looks great, doesn't she! Welcome to crone-hood, Diana. The best years are ahead girlfriend! Life only gets better!
A friend of mine wanted me to read this little ditty bad enough to send it to me in the mail. And I read it this morning. It's only 87 pages, and lots of white space, so it's an easy read, but the message is so exciting. And reading it is synchronistic for me right now--we are about to begin an Artist Way group (Circle?) at our local art league. Mostly what I want is a "woman's group" that's interested in growing creatively, whether it be spiritually or artistically. Personally, I think it's both. And that's what this book is about, except bigger. Have you ever heard the story of the 100th monkey? If you haven't heard it, you can read about it here. The Millionth Circle extrapolates from the myth of the 100th monkey: when a critical number of people change how they think and behave, the culture will also, and a new era begins. To quote the author, Jean Shinoda Bolen, "this is an unusually short book for what it purposes, which is nothng short of changing the world and bringing humanity into a post-patriarchal era." A book after my own heart. I believe each one of us is so vital to the next phase of evolution, and I want to be as big a part of it as I can, in any way that I can. You can be, too.
Now, about Monica--you remember her and Sparky from a previous post? Well Monica has awesome news. We found out yesterday that she's been accepted to SMU's Law School!!!! Kuddos, girlfriend! Here's a big High-5! :) She was surprised, but I wasn't. :)
I spent some time with a friend this past summer in Leaky, Texas, and she graciously allowed me to bring home these souvenirs. It's a lovely reminder of a special moment in time--a time of being connected to the earth. I've spent most of my life in my imagination, trying desperately to become spiritual, disconnected from the earth and it's physical blessings. Over the past couple of years, I begun to appreciate the stones, the earth, being a part of this physical place. These rocks remind me that even God appreciated the physical so much that incarnation happened. I believe incarnation continues to happen--God becoming physical all around us, every day, in every way. At the top left is my personal baptismal font--it collects the most precious holy water of all--rain water. I often bless myself and to sprinkle it all around me, blessing the earth and all her treasure. 
It's been cold and rainy here--raining for 10 days straight. I've been cold to the bone now for several days. I know that "cold" is a relative term, but you have to remember that I live almost as far south as one can go in Texas, without landing in the Gulf, and it doesn't take much for my thin blood to turn to ice. So it was nice the other day when I opened my email and found this recipe for Hot Buttered Rum from my dear "Yankee" friend, Carmen, who lives in Kansas. I made a batch up tonight, and it was very good, but it will take about 5 years worth of cold rainy South Texas nights to use up this recipe! :) One other little hint--when Carmen says to "fill with boiling water", she means fill with boiling water. Impatient as I was, I didn't wait for the water to boil--not thinking of the fact I was pouring it over "ice cream". DUH! so my Hot Buttered Rum was semi-warm this first time! Next time, I'll know better!
I went around my house this cold drizzly morning trying to figure out what to take a picture of—what could I “freeze” in a photo to capture this day of my life? For some reason unknown at the time, my eyes landed on my keys, so I snapped away.
Meet my mommy--Mildred Louise Moncrief Massey, better known as Milly, Mother, or Mama. She lives with us in her own little "apartment" downstairs, and she likes nothing better than adding a little color to her place, especially if she can put it in front of her mirror and get "double the pleasure". My mom has become one of my best friends, and I love having her live this close.
It's a cold, rainy, winter, Sunday afternoon. I've been wanting to try my hand at collage painting, so there's no time to start like the present. A friend suggested I cut out colored paper and objects, glue them to a hard-back surface, enlarge them to full-size watercolor sheets, and paint them. I've been wanting to break out of my box, so this sounds like it could be a start. It's intimidating--all the colored pages, all the pictures--my right brain hasn't clicked in yet. It's still trying to figure out what might work. But at least it's a move in a different direction. I understand that sometimes it takes H.C. Dodd a couple of weeks to work up a mock-up, so I still have time. Patience, Sheila!
A Hometown Grieves
We celebrate birthdays at the Art League each month, and January is a BUSY month. Pictured above, Kaye, Sharon, Mary, Phil, and Terry. We usually celebrate with cake and ice cream, but this was a BIG year for Phil. He turned 90! You go, guy! Phil's really a special guy. He has macular degeneration and can't see very well, but he has his driver bring him to the Studio every paint-in day possible, and he still paints. He's an inspiration to all us "young" artists--to keep going, no matter what. I asked him how it felt to be 90, and he said the same way it felt to be 89 and 364 days old! We love you Phil. I hope to celebrate his 100th!
I learned to knit my freshman year in high school (I think? It was a LONG time ago). I never used the knitting skills, never even finished a beginner project, but I've picked it up again this winter--and I'm having a ball (several of them, in fact--as in balls of yarn)! I've finished a shawl, knitted two scarves (including this luscious purple one), and put wonderful purple cuffs on my Levi jacket. The only thing I needed to complete the set was this little purple cap. No problems, until NOW. I've been working on this silly little hat about a month, got almost finished and realized a couple of nights ago that I had mis-read the directions, and it wasn't working, so I ripped out the yarn, re-balled it, and began again last night. About two inches into the project, I realized that somehow I had gotten my project twisted on those circular needles, and I was knitting a twisted cap (perhaps that's what a twisted mind needs?). I got my engineer husband involved in checking out the possibility that it might right itself in the end, but he said no, so I've ripped it out AGAIN and, if I want a cap, I've got to start over again. Is it worth it? Darned if I know! I've never worn caps, and might never wear this one, but something in me is tenacious this time. I can't let this thing beat me, so tonight I'll sit down again, pull out all the stitches, re-ball the yarn again, and start over. So...there's got to be a spiritual picture in here somewhere?
I'm an artist--at least that's one of the newer labels I'm wearing. I'm currently exhibiting my work at the Center for the Arts and Sciences in Clute/Lake Jackson, Texas. There are 3 other artists exhibiting with me, Tim Kinser, Cecilia Lavalle, and Linda Roberts. I've spent a year in overdrive getting ready for this exhibit, and I took the month of December off. Haven't painted at all in about 6 weeks, so it's time to go back to work--take out the dried up pallet, squirt a little water and wade in to see what happens. It's almost as daunting as it was when I first attempted watercolors in 2005. I don't expect much today--just to start is enough.
