Life is good when you are a cleaning lady

Time for another wonderful story. Today was an eventful day. I washed floors in my house. and i declare that i don't like the bliss of mopping, and the look of dust and trash under the couch is not what i like to have my sight on. But the job is done, and now i can smell the roses in the garden.

Unfortunately There Are No Ladybugs Found Today!

Kapusta - planted and cared for by me personally, of course!

Moja niechec do niektorych postaci jest wyjatkowo mocna i nie sezonowa; raczej trwajaca bezustannie. Nieuleczalna niechec do charakterow, ktore nie moga wypowiedziec swojej do mnie urazy wprost do mojej twarzy jest ogromna jak ocean. Moze dlatego koje swoja zlosc ogladaniem filmow rysunkowych z lat piecdziesiatych Walta Disneya. No wlasciwie niektore (filmy) pochodza z lat czterdziestych. Prezetuje tutaj fotografie mojej grzadki kapuscianej z lat dwutysiecznych, scislej mowiac z dziewietnastego grudnia 2008.

Story Without Major Theme Illustrated during Pre-Christmas Time

Pencil on paper, November 29, 2008.

                                       
This illustration has no story. You, my dear Reader,

can make your own story; and I am happy to awaken your

creative juices. It is the holiday season that will truly be your

bank of wealthy memories. Just relax, and dream on.

Scary Little Ghost

Scary Little Ghost; graphite, charcoal, pastel; 9"x12"

The Magic of no Magic

....suddenly the wind picked up and the world outside of Publix swirled causing the local crows appear scary the grasses swayed in a dangerous manner and I in the middle of it declared to Lidia, that this was the creative time in the history of my many trips to this area I was moved by my Muse I felt special long after returning home and waited for something special and nice at the same time to happen to me. I am still anticipating it.

Speaking on Behalf of Cabbage Heads

Cabbage Head, 9"x12", charcoal and pastel.

It takes time to draw a cabbage, but it takes more time to teach someone to love cabbage. I like cabbage; I think I had to love cabbage, especially the pickled version loaded with Vitamin C. I ate a lot more cabbage in Poland, and Lidia often reminds me of those cabbage filled days of my childhood and youth.

"Old Like Earth or with Holes in her Brain"

My friend Bozena wrote me an update on our high school. The high school that we graduated from in 1976 was celebrating its 60th anniversary. One of the teachers ("professors" as we called them) came looking "as old as earth", the other one "had holes in her brain". Overall impression of the event, as described  by my friend, was fantastically odd. - I didn't attend it personally; I was far away in the safety of my home in the tropics!

No Story Today

No story today. But why? Because I spend too much time here and not out there, where I'm needed. The world is inviting me to exercise, to pave the walkway, to talk to people in a real way.

Too Much Reading

After a controversial debut with my first story I return to the keyboard. Not much to say, because I was blown away by the headline on the front page of the New York Post: "MOVE YOUR A$$! ;W. fumes as Dems dawdle on bailout". My reading session started at around 9 a.m. and ended at ten past four in the afternoon. I read the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times, the earlier mentioned New York Post, and for desert, the National Examiner. What am I getting at? Nothing. I talked to Wies (he phoned me at the supermarket) about life and insurances, dental visits, and "manko". The day is not over yet, but my story is.

All Is Good

I went to work and came back.I have something on my mind, but it's not urgent. It seems that I think that writing annoys me. My own writing, and the other people's writing. I am talking about bloggers. Some of us are so boring. We are so not creative, or maybe so wound up like mechanical mice: We have no talent of our own, but we still write and want others to be taken by our genus. The sweetness and innocence of journal writing seems to be absent in blogs that I've read recently.There is the mediocrity of a "C+" student that creeps itself in. To remedy this situation I am stepping in with my fine writing. I make no promises to be producing the so called "enjoyable reading"; I only promise to be the promising author, forever promising, promising for good, for the years to come. My evening story produces only one theme: My belly is full, I am not suffering from malnutrition, and I like and appreciate the light. Without the light there is no shadow. With that let me leave this post and go to watch some TV.

Today's First Story is Very Simple

It is a nice day and everyone should be happy, so let's begin: I wanted to write and to be read, and my stories to be illustrated. The problem that I am having now is that I don't have a story yet.