Thursday, April 10, 2014

My Dad and My Dan

My Dad and Mom and all us kids 1958

I love this picture maybe because of his smile looking down on me. I never thought to ask him while he was alive, What was he thinking? Was his smile genuine or did the photographer set this up? I have a good feeling his smile was genuine.

This is him in the hospital waiting room. A professional photographer from the Pittsburgh Press was there to take photos. I'm glad for it because they probably wouldn't have these photos which I love so much.
Back then father's were kept out of the delivery room. They had a special waiting area where smoking and pacing the floor was common for the new dads to be.
He smoked Pall Malls unfiltered, three packs a day in his later years. His fingers had nicotine stains on his smoking fingers and dirt always under his nails from landscaping.

The Doctor giving Dad the good news... three healthy baby girls.

I wish I knew who he called first. He probably called home, where all my brothers and sister were waiting to know the news. maybe he called his brother who lived next door or his mother.

Don't ya love the phone booth! Just 51 years ago we sat in a booth with coins to call home. Telephone books were usually hanging from underneath. And an operator would assist you if you needed it. I'm so so old!


Proud daddy holding me just after my birth.
My dad died when I was a young woman. I was just 27 years old when he passed away. He was in his late 60's when he died. My father worked very hard all his life to provide for his family. He worked seven days a week, sometimes 12 hours a day. It's sometimes difficult to reflect on his presence in my life now that I am mature. As a child I loved to tell him stories. He always listened and laughed while I talked to him. I remember his laughter with fondness. As a teenager I really disliked him. He chased my friends away, drank to much, drove me crazy with his paranoid accusations, and he actually caused a lot of angst in my life at that time. I would wish he'd give me up to foster care. I even behaved badly hoping to help him throw me out, knowing I'd be happier somewhere else. He threw my other brothers and sisters out, why not me? He never threw me out no matter how bad I was.
Our own family snapshots and professional photos would include a real dad more like my own who before the twins were born decided to be the one to work hard, to worry for their well being, and be there when they needed loved, listened to, laughed with, spanked, fed, nutured, and cared for by a father who unconditionally loved them. I wish so much I could have realized this before my own father passed away. I wish I could thank him for being there and loving us and laughing with me and at me as a child.

Me and Dan and all our kids and grandkids 2007
Thanks for being there when they were born, for calling home when you were late, for running to the store when we ran out of diapers, for paying for their every need, and for your continued love and respect you give each of them.
Thank you, Dan for being a real Dad to all our kids.
A real Dad takes time to listen, laugh, and curl his tongue for a family photo.
Thanks for loving our kids unconditionally.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Original Folk Art Paintings For Sale

Sharing some recent folk art I created for our local First Friday Art Walk. All paintings are original work by me. Thanks for looking!

 
another close up look
 
Loving is Giving
16 x 20 Original Painting SOLD
 
 
Love One Another SOLD
16 X 20
Original Acrylic on stretch canvas
This painting has all my favorite colors. The muted yet bright combination of colors will compliment almost any d├ęcor. This painting would look so sweet in a baby nursery or guest bedroom. You could hang it in an entry way to greet your guests as they come to visit.
Detail of the bottom corner

SOLD
Wash Your Hands You Sinners James 4:8 
(look it up)
8 x 10 stretched canvas

I'll Fly Away 
8 x 10 Mixed Media Original Folk Art
I'll Fly Away 8 X 10
Original folkart SOLD
 
When I started this group of mixed media paintings I was thinking about using some of my favorite old time hymns. I'll fly away is probably one of the most popular of them all.
The one below, also another favorite! He'll Wipe Away All Tears was actually a simple mistake on my part. I wanted the hymn on the opposite side, actually. But now it's my little happy mistake.

Will The Circle Be Unbroken SOLD
One of my favorite old time hymns.
Color in top image is actual.
Color in below image is yellowed because of poor lighting.
Will The Circle Be Unbroken
8 x 10 Mixed Media Original Folk Art
 
 
He'll Wipe Away All Tears SOLD
8 x 10 original folk art
mixed media
acrylic and collage on stretch canvas
Close up of He'll Wipe Away All Tears.
This painting like the other 8 x 10 mixed media is painted using a textured collage base, collaged sheet music, folk art penny dots, and then antiques and finally finished with a sealer. These are ready to hand, wrap around stretch canvas paintings. No hanger is attached.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Meet my flock

These are my six surviving chicks at about 8 weeks old, guessing. The brown headed chick on the right is a rooster. You can see Honey Pie on the left, he lost a lot of those pretty feathers when his momma attacked him.
 
This is Honey Pie and Blondie at about 1 week old. They were my favorites from the start.
 
This is one of the chicks at 13 or 14 weeks old. She was just 3 days old when we adopted he with her mother and 6 other chicks.
 
This is Blondie. She is my favorite of the chicks. Her feathers are finally coming back after being attacked by her mother hen and other chicks. I introduced Blondie and Honey Pie to the new coop. Soon the other babies will join them.
 
This is Honey Pie, my first rooster, about 13 or 14 weeks old. He was beat up pretty badly by his mother hen. She had been caring for them until she laid an egg in the cage, one day later she was killing her babies and I had to take her from them. I separated the two most injured youngins because the other chicks were pecking these guys all to heck.
 
These are my first hens, Mother Teresa, who came to us with her 7 babies, and Miss Chiff, the part Polish hen in front. The first time I put them together in the small coop, they had each other by the throats. They were screaming and killing each other. Now they are best friends.