FEELING BLUE (and I'm Lovin it!)

Where did that saying "feeling blue" come from?  I love the colour blue, it inspires me, it fires me up and makes me so ridiculously happy that I run around like a complete crazy woman.  Everything great comes from the colour blue.  Like the sky, the ocean, twilight, blue glass, blue jewelry, blue eyes, blue bells, and if my better half and I ever finally tie the knot, my wedding band is blue too!  Ahhhhh, lovely, delightfully, ever inspiring blue! If you think about it, the saying should have really been "feeling grey".  It's dreary and depressing and I will save that for another post.  Nah, forget it, I won't even bother, it's not worth even mentioning.

Did you know that the ancient Egyptians used lapis lazuli to represent heaven and that blue is also used to symbolize the Virgin Mary? They say that a pure blue is the color of inspiration, sincerity and spirituality. And if your nerves need calming, blue is the colour choice for you, just strap on some blue sapphires or blue topazes and you're good to go. Of course I have a ton of blue topazes, this girl is quick to pass on the diamonds! And it even gets better because a blue iris means your friendship is very important to me which is ironic since it is one of my favourite flowers to give to someone. And if your psychic powers need heightening will just break out the Lapis lazuli and azurite.

I use to live in a wonderment of blue until I met my better half.  His eyes were not accustomed to the boldness of the colours I so desired. We were so different when we met, beige boy with a love of wildlife art.  Blue girl with a love of bold, crazy architectural art. So when we built our home, I compromised with my taste in art and his taste in beige and I toned down our colour choice to a beige on beige on green contemporary casual scheme just for him.  And five years later, it is killing me, literally.  I am a moth to the flame when it comes to boldness and I express it in the artwork I collect, in the glass work that adorns my shelves, in the dishes I eat off and in the jewelry I wear. My interior designer background is flinching out of control and I think I have developed a tick because this beige on beige on green scheme is giving me a rash, and not in a good place!

Slowly and unbeknownst to my unsuspecting better half, I am quietly collecting mine (ours) newest design scheme. Yes it's a tad girly, yes it's a tad less contemporary, yes it's a tad french country and YES IT'S A LOT OF BLUE *insert evil laugh here*.  I feel design juices flowing and flowing hard and once that starts, the only thing that can hold me back on this roller coaster ride is my darn chequing account.

I often imagine the day when my better half is out and about and comes back later and walks thru the door and WHAM, the colour blue everywhere. Maybe I will just dance around the house naked and he won't even notice, well that's my plan anyway.  I hope that the design (or me dancing around naked) doesn't blind him for life, but it's a chance I am willing to take!

In the meantime, I am sneaking a little blue into this blog, just so your eyes can feast upon the gorgeousness of what thrills me to my inner soul.

And am I feeling blue?  You betcha, and I am loving every moment of it!

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

A MOMENT AT THE FLOWER STALL

I am a sucker for flower stalls on the side of the road.  I suppose it invokes some old worldly charm of bygone eras of when your normal day of shopping included going from stall to stall to stall collecting your purchases for the day and scooting your butt home to make a gourmet meal of whatever you could throw together from the abundance of veggies that you bought. Not that I would actually know since I was born in the era of convenience food, so I suppose these images must have been imprinted upon my brain from shows like Little House on the Prairies and Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman.. lol  In any event, my better half  is constantly amused by me and my need to stop and pick up flowers, or zucchinis or tomatoes or basil or whatever I can get my little mitts on. It is a well known fact that if you are outside peddling your wares, you can better believe that I will be there with my funky little handmade basket ooohing and ahhhing and delighting over the joys of buying straight from your home.  

Sunday was such a day for me.  The weather was getting me down with yet another grey sky and so we decided to venture out on a road trip with my camera in tow.  Of course, I saw this flower stall and we had to drive 15 minutes down the road before there was place to make a u-turn in order to get back to it, but $20.00 in gas later and a $8.00 bouquet and I was happily snapping pics.

(please click on pictures to enlarge)

Was it worth the $28.00? You bet!

Because there maybe no sun in the sky but 

there is a great big splash of yellow

thriving on my living room coffee table.

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

LOSING MY TRUTH

Today I wrote this blog about my small bladder and my fear of public toilets and my need to pee at every 5 minute interval.  Later during the day I thought to myself, who cares that I have a small bladder that pees at the drop of a dime and who cares that I have a fear of using outside public washrooms because I worry about bugs flying up my ass?  And it occurred to me that this particular post felt forced. The thing is that when I started this blog, it was about self expression in one form or another.  It was about my thoughts and crazy observations on situations and it became my place to post pictures that said something to my heart.  And in all honesty, facebook just didn't seem to supply enough sufficient space for my rants! Seriously tho, I really had no agenda and I had no format upon which to build.  I wasn’t writing my blog to teach something new, I wasn’t writing my blog to inspire others and I wasn’t writing my blog to discuss difficult journeys in life. It was simply about putting myself out there in an incredibly vulnerable situation, all the while letting the garbled mess in my head spill out onto the keyboard and hoping that someone else would be able to relate to whatever my crazy brain produced.

Lately tho, my blog has turned into this need to be bigger and better than what I am and who I am. At one time I was thrilled that I had eight followers and now I have 21 followers and a multitude of unknown followers and for some reason, I want more. When I started on this little endeavour, I was going to be happy if I hit a 1000 views on my blog within a year, but I hit 5000 in 3 months and I still compare my blog to what other blogs are doing.  I had also noticed that I started to feel the need to post pictures for those who wanted to see photographs.  I felt the need to post funny stories for those who wanted to laugh.  I felt the need to post more internal emotional blogs for those who wanted to try and know the personal side of me.  And I was starting to ask for feedback on what others wanted to see which is absolutely ludicrous, if you think about it. Because would you ask for someone's permission to tell you what to write down in your own diary? And now I have come to this place where I am not really enjoying the turn of events. I am in a self imposed competition and I really need to get out of it.

Somewhere and somehow my blog and myself have both become fishes out of water.  My internal compass has gone astray and I can’t seem to find where north lies anymore.  I have been getting caught up in what seems to be a blogging community built on the idea of visiting many other blogs and providing comments. And let me tell you, there is an entire large group of individuals out there who are really encouraging and leave the most wonderful comments, but still I feel this crazy pressure to land on each and every blog and make a comment myself.  Of course, this is my problem and nothing that has been forced upon me but I need to step back slightly and re-evaluate where I am going with this online journal for the world to review.  I still will participate in the odd meme now and then, possibly even tomorrow, but I am just going to slow it down ever so slightly so that I can bring some of the joy back. 

In the meantime, I want to thank those who have viewed, encouraged, commented and came back for repeats on this very haphazard, eccentric, crazy little diary of mine.  It has made an incredible difference to someone who was very insecure about this little adventure into the cyber world.

I will be back, most likely tomorrow with photographs, but this time it will be for me.  And if you end up liking it, then all the better.

Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches

GENTLE IMAGES

The Calla Lily, so incredibly elegant, it is a symbol of both rebirth and resurrection, and for me today, it was a reminder that something so simple in it's appearance can be so incredibly overwhelming in it's beauty.

It was just a day of adoration of simplicity at it's best.

And although they are not Calla Lilies, 

I loved their little faces

(and so did the little fly!)

May the rest of your weekend be full of simple pleasures.

And please join me on Sunday for "Today's Flowers"

and a new one I am trying called "Summer Sundays"

by clicking on the links to the right to see some amazing photos

by some incredibly talented individuals

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

GET YOUR DANCING SHOES ON, IT'S FRIDAY!!!

It’s Friday and I want to do a happy dance!  Yes, an all out jig around my office, except that I am worried that some of my wiggly parts may take out a few objects here and there, but what the hell, I am going to jiggle and wiggle around this office until I am out of breath, sweating profusely, laying on the floor and panting like I just had the best night of my life.  Just wait there... I will be back in five!

Okay, I am back and it felt good. Really good, even those wiggly parts that may have been bruised from slamming into a couple of walls still feel good too.

What is it about Fridays that just brings out the best of the best in energy and emotions?  For most of us working slobs, nine to five, five days a week can seem somewhat tedious and mundane.  And while I am not knocking my job, sometimes I think it would be just spectacular if my job was shift work because it would certainly help break up what has become an unfortunate monotonous routine.

I suppose it is all about attitude.  I have always been grateful to have a job even jobs in the past that I absolutely abhorred. Even with the worst employers, I was still grateful to be able to put a roof over my head, food on my plate and have a social life outside of my work environment.

As I get older however and closer to the possibility of retirement, I find that Monday thru Friday seems to drag on and on and I relish in the idea of more time off.  Is this the fault of my job, absolutely not.  But it is my fault for not working as hard on my personal life as I do in my professional life. In my 20's, I was a social butterfly and it seemed that every night after work I was going somewhere and doing something and it made my career choice bearable and my life enjoyable.  But as I have gotten older, I seem to have lost some of my twenty something "umpf" and replaced it with my forty something "ugh".  And I now tend to leave my social gatherings, if I socialize at all, till the weekends making my work week seem very long indeed.

You see the biggest problem is that my better half and I have fallen into this “homebody” routine.  We go to work, come home, play with our pooch, make dinner, clean up, play on the computer, watch some tv and go to bed.  It’s like a bad repeat of a terrible TV show that’s gone into syndication when it should have been canceled years ago.  Complacency people.  I have spoken about this before.  Complacency is the culprit that breeds disinterest and lack of enthusiasm.  It’s there like a weed growing around your brain that seriously needs to be plucked and I need to pluck our complacency before it becomes a permanent fixture in our everyday life.

Last night we started. We invited some really nice friends out for dinner and with them just accepting the invitiation, they unknowingly assisted us by helping us to throw out our usual routine. Albeit, it was one day before the weekend, but the fact remains it wasn't on a weekend and it broke up our tiresome  repetitiousness.  And you know, I enjoyed going out, and what's more, I had forgotten what it was like to socialize beyond the confines of the constraints I had self imposed upon myself and my better half. And even better, I just checked my whining, my pain, my fatigue and my complacency at the door and enjoyed the evening out with our great friends.

It's a small step, but small steps lead to big steps and before you know it, I will be donning those dancing shoes and wiggling and jiggling any time I want too!  And that people, is what I am aiming for.

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

"P" is for PRETTY (because we all need a little pretty now and then)

I had written an earlier blog this afternoon as I was feeling a little down and felt like putting my proverbial pen to paper.  I posted it and immediately regretted sharing it.  It was dark and dreary, and well we all have things going on in our lives that weigh heavy on our shoulders, so what makes mine anymore special than someone else's? Absolutely nothing. And after some thought (not much), I raced upstairs to my computer and removed it and was instantly glad that I had done so. Although I don't regret writing it, as sometimes it's just nice to put it out there, but what is even nicer is having the option of disposing of it by filing it under "G" for garbage.  And so into the cyber trash can it went.  And instead I decided to repost with colour and beauty, something that inspires me, enlightens me and brings me tremendous happiness... and you know what, I am already feeling better.

Here's hoping that your week is filled with enough

colour to awaken your senses.

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE (in the photo department)

I will admit that I am bit of a girly girl... I love the softness of the colours of lavenders, blues, soft roses, mossy greens, creams and whites and I get off on beautiful English gardens. Something about English gardens invoke these wonderful memories of my grandmother's neighbour, Mrs. Bowles, who let me wander thru her lovely garden as a child and spend hours sitting with her on her porch swing.  Since then, I have found that English gardens really do rock my world. And so I spend a great deal of time driving out and about for that perfect picture of an English rose draping over some aged structure, or that lovely grouping of peonies with their heads so heavy that they are gracefully falling to the earth for some much needed respite.  But this past weekend, I forced myself to walk away from the soft centre of a lovely petaled fleur and find some thing else worthy enough for my camera's lens, and while I would be the first to admit that I am no photographer (I prefer the title "picture taker"), I think that I did not do too badly in my first attempt to break free from cottage comfortable.  So here is my interpretation of the study of brown:

(please click to enlarge)

Won't you join me today in visiting asoutherndaydreamer.blogspot.com

for Outdoor Wednesday to view the beauty of many other's fabulous photographs.

Just click on the button to your right entitled "Outdoor Wednesday"

And thank you for stopping by!

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM!

My forty second year of life is starting to shape up to be a somewhat body altering experience in many more ways than I actually want it to be.

Gravity has struck me at the most inconvenient time. It’s a time in my life where I am really starting to embrace the sisterhood of womanliness (I actually giggled as I wrote that because wasn’t I just complaining about being hairy the other day?) and now, I am actually enjoying, intellectually and mentally, the art of growing wiser. It is amazing what my brain is absorbing and what seems to be leaking out as well, and in all honesty, I am loving this new found wisdom and exceptional perception that my fool hardy youth was unable grasp.

Unfortunately, it seems to me that I have traded the perkiness of my body for the power of wisdom.  Things are falling down at an alarming rate and all over the gawd forsaken place.  My butt now walks in sync to the steps of my feet, my breasts are seeming more like hip waders as oppose to shoulder flotation devices, and this morning, I woke up to the horrible realization that not only do I have a double chin but there is something awkwardly dangling where my jaw line use to be!  Yup, I think it’s safe to say that I have officially entered into the “Jowl Zone”.  I suppose it is payback for all the years where I use to make fun of elderly women with their unfortunate folds of loose skin flapping in the wind.  And I suppose I made one too many jokes about their jowls being used as instrumental devices and now the Fates have decided its time for my face to play a few musical tunes of it’s own.

The wisdom of my brain is saying “it’s called growing old, just embrace the changes you weirdo” but the heart of my youth is saying “GOOD GAWD PEOPLE break out the vacuum cleaners and start sucking the danglies off my body before it’s too late!!!!”

And if that isn’t bad, I also seem to have awoken up with permanent pillow lines etched on my face (at least that is what I am calling them).  Oh the sheer horror I experienced this morning.  First I threw cold water on my face, and nope, they did not go away.  Then I stood in a shower with the water pounding on my face in the hopes that my skin would suck it all in and it would reinvigorate my youthfulness.  Nothing.  Then I pulled out the big guns and slathered on my “money back guaranteed” instant wrinkle remover. Five minutes later, I looked in the mirror and slathered on some more.  And as I was laying on my bed on my back admiring how my face was regaining its sweet innocence of youth (even though my breasts had silently rolled to the sides and fell underneath my armpits), I unfortunately sat up too quickly and was slapped literally in the face while it distorted back into the reality of looking like the beginning of a city road map!  Eeee Gads!

Wasn’t it just last year I was mistaken for the mere age of 34, and then only a couple of weeks ago, I was asked if I qualified for the senior’s discount at my local drugstore (although, I was asked this by a very bitter geriatric cashier, mind you).  So what gives?  And what am I doing wrong?  Have I spent too much time rattling around in my brain and nourishing it with facts and deep meaningful thoughts and new things to learn and have forgotten and neglected to spend time on my body?  Tis true, I am afraid to say.  What’s more heart wrenching is the realization that no matter how sharp your brain is, it can only go so far if the body is broken. 

In any event, while the wisdom of my brain is blaming it on my sheer lack of neglect, my youthful heart is blaming it on too much chocolate and not enough broccoli.  Maybe there is something to be said about the naivety of the youth.  Yup, too much chocolate and not enough broccoli, I like that, and that my friends is my story and I am sticking to it! 


Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches

WITHOUT A FATHER.....

I find father's day, not so difficult, but more of a reminder that my father and I severed our relationship some many years ago.  Compounding upon this is that father's day almost always lands upon his birthday as well.  I usually don't give it much thought until I sign on to my facebook and see the dreaded well wishes of everyone else who has had some type of fabulous relationship with their father either in the past or in the present.

My relationship with my father had been a complicated turmoil of manipulative mind game playing for more years than I like to remember.  It began during my parents incredibly rough and emotional divorce in my early 20's and continued for many years until I think we both finally came to some sort of consensus that we had definitely had enough.  At least I had.

What I recall is that we walked out of a restaurant after a very emotionally scarring lunch and neither one of us ever looked back.

I do not hate my father.  He is after all half the reason why I was born.  He did shape me on some very positive levels from my love of animals, to my love of art, to my appreciation of well built objects, and of course, to my annoying habit of perfection.  

However, there comes a time when one knows that family is not just about the blood ties that bond us.  Family is about the ones that support you, and the ones that stand behind you and the ones that put your needs before them.  You are not just some minor irritation that reminds him of your mother and that out of obligation he must see you once every 8 weeks for a lunch consisting of mindless, uninteresting conversation that ultimately turns into the same hashed out arguments that you had 15 years earlier.

Nope, it was no longer the ideal relationship for me.  

In the many years of our mutual silence, I have met the man of my dreams, been in a terrible car accident, suffered a serious kidney and liver infection that hospitalized me, broke my leg, built a house, got a little pooch, couple of new cars, made new friends, and he has apparently gotten married and traveled the world. Ironically, we only live 5 minutes away from each other, and yet, somehow we have managed to never run once into each other in all this time.  And in my heart, I believe that the Fates know that this is the best for both of us.

I have mourned the death of our relationship in that first year and I do not regret my decision to not amend our relationship.  I am however going to stop turning on my facebook on Father's day, not because I miss him, but more because I envy the ones who have had solid, uplifting experiences in their relationships with their own fathers.  

I will say however that sometimes all a girl really needs in her life, is a good mother.  Thank gawd I was blessed in that department.

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches.

A day in my Cyber Garden

I am participating in "Today's Flower", a very delightful way of taking the time to show and admire the flowers that you love and the flowers that others love.  

I hope you enjoy your wander thru my little cyber garden.  And here's hoping that the rest of your day is lovely!

Until Next Time

Smooches Pooches

THE FATES REALLY DO WORK IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS

Today, while on my lunch hour, I had written one of my usual flippant blogs and discussed how I had been working on my own for the last 10 years without any coworkers and that I had come to a lonely, and crazy of mind kind of place, where I had started to talk to bugs and walls and plants, and in all honesty, it made me giggle after I finished the entry as I did look like a complete lunatic (and of course, it would not be the first time). And I had felt that it was a good ending to a long week full of ups and downs.

But then out of nowhere an 80 something elderly gentleman had just wandered off the street and landed in my office, which let me tell you is no easy feat as he had to climb up two flights of stairs.  Bent over and tired and using a cane for support, he just parked himself down in a chair across from me and started to cry.  I wasn’t sure what to make of this and I wasn’t even sure why he had come into my office. But what I did know for sure was that he was in some form of crisis.  Sadly you see, he had informed me that he had lost his wife in November and that they had been married for 65 years and he was now at a loss.  In fact, I would venture to say that he was completely devastated.  He went on to tell me that his wife was his best friend and the absolute love of his life. He shared with me the beautiful story of how the first time he saw her, he reached for her hand and from that day forward, he had never let go of it until the day she died.  His soul mate was gone and now he was alone.  And I could see what he was thinking: he had that wish, you know the one, that wish that said that he had wished it was he who had passed first.

Out of his jacket, he had pulled the memorial pamphlet from his wife’s funeral that he had gotten laminated and carried in a little book in his jacket wallet.  I really was at my own loss for words.  I did not know what he wanted from me and I wasn't sure what to do for him. And then I saw it in his eyes, he was just lonely.  So incredibly lonely and he had come thru my office door looking for some compassion.  After I wiped away my own tears, the only thing I could think of doing was to just get up and hug him.  And I hugged him hard and then he cried and I cried and he told me that was all that he needed and he got up and hobbled out thru the door.

I stood there wondering how and why he ended up in my office and then I thought of my recently drafted blog and it hit me hard.  Yes, I have incredibly huge moments of loneliness working by myself.  After all, I am a bit social and not having someone to work and laugh with during the day, does become a bit daunting.  But at the end of the day, I get to come home to my better half and my adorable little pooch, my great neighbours, phone calls from my awesome mother, emails from my fabulous friends, and by 9:00 p.m., I am often looking for a quiet little space for myself which is ironic since several hours earlier I was complaining about being lonely.

Coincidence that this man had walked into this office? I don’t think so.  Fates slapping me in the back of the head and telling me I have no idea what loneliness is?  Perhaps.

But whatever the reason, I can tell you that this man took my hand and pleaded with me to always appreciate that life was precious and fleeting, and I am grateful that whatever force ushered him towards my door knew that he would be the perfect person to kick me in my ass.


Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches.

I AM WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR (ESPECIALLY DURING A WAX JOB!)

I am coming back as a man in my next life.  Yup, you heard it here first.  I am so over being a woman.  Being a woman has just become way too much maintenance for me!

You know, last night I was sitting there covering up my grey roots, yet again, when I got to thinking about how super easy men have it.  As a kid, I use to always feel sorry for my Dad and his daily shave of his face and neck, but now that I am in my early 40's, I can see that he has absolutely nothing on my daily routine.

Oh its starts off innocent enough. First you start shaving your arm pits in your preteen stage and then you might as well start shaving your calves, and what’s that you say, all your friends are doing their thighs too?  Well I guess I better start mowing the lawn up there as well, and before you know it, there isn’t a speck of hair on your entire body, well of course, with the exception of your head and a nameless area (after all this is a family friendly blog) and even that nameless area is debatable with some women.

But you think that this would be it, wouldn’t you?  Oh no, then we have the joys of entering in our 40's and you get up that one morning and you pull out your magnifying mirror (because let’s face it, you are starting to loose your sight and can no longer see the flaws without 200x magnification) and OH MY GAWD, horror strikes!  “What’s that at the corner of my mouth?”  Oh my lord, is that the beginning of a Foo Man Chu moustache.  And, if that isn’t the icing on the proverbial cake, upon closer inspection, I start to wonder if I am now sporting a full goatee.  Eeeek!

My esthetician thinks I am crazy.  She says there is nary hair on my face.  Personally, I think she is just being polite. I think that she is worried that if she tells me the truth, I will go screaming off into the night and reside with the rest of the apes, and she’s probably right, you know!  But I’m no fool. I can see it in her eyes and I know what she is really thinking!  I know secretly she wants to grab my face and say to me “Look Bush Baby, stick your entire face in that vat of wax because you are beginning to look like the hairy woman from Borneo!” 

And if this isn’t the worst possible news, I now spend my free time with my face glued to the mirror looking for strays that have sprung up somewhere new in the middle of the night.  I swear that while I am sleeping there is a Hairy Fairy that comes and spreads “instant growth” manure on my face!  I’d certainly like to catch that little bugger and clip her wings! 

And then the other day, another woman said to me “wait till you start growing nostril hair.”  WHAT?  Are you kidding me?  I certainly thought that was only reserved for men, but in any event, I spent the next two hours inspecting my nostrils for any indication that I might have had a reforestation going on!  Ugh I say!  UGH!

I am at a loss on how to beat the fact that I am starting to revert back to one of my ancient ancestors.  I have thought of buying bulk containers of Nair Hair Remover and filling up my bathtub and just dipping myself in. Or, I could just give up and starting swinging from the trees like the rest of the primates.  In the meantime, I am packing up my bags... I have just been sent my invitation to join the Gorgades, a Tribe of Hairy Libyan women.  Don’t laugh, I hear your invitation is in the mail too!

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

THE COLOUR OF COLUMBINE

Oh the Columbine, small in stature and seeming to have less impact in a garden than most flowers, but nonetheless, it is a flower that should never be overlooked.  It's beautiful, delicate, star shaped face that carries the colours of the rainbow in it's petite petals, and having a gentle, meditated movement when it sways its small face in the soft winds.  By all accounts, it is completely glorious in its own right.  

Did you know that they were able to trace the Columbine as far back as the 11th Century where it was used as an aphrodisiac.  It was even dedicated to Freya, the Norse Patron Goddess of Love and Fertility, and at one time it was even considered highly inappropriate to give a young woman a bouquet of Columbine due to its sexual connotations.

One thing I do know, it reminds me of something I read several months ago:  "A flower's appeal is in its contradictions - so delicate in form yet strong in fragrance, so small in size yet big in beauty, so short in life yet long on effect."  ~Terri Guillemets

 

This is my second time participating in Outdoor Wednesday and I want to thank 

asoutherndaydreamer.blogspot.com for hosting same and allowing my participation.

I hope your week is filled with all the colours of the rainbow.

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

TO BE IN LOVE WITH SUCH BEAUTY

Oh the flower, its beauty, it's gracefulness, its delicious scent.... My heart runneth over among a field of colour.  Thank you flower for providing a feast to my eyes and a warmth to my soul.

I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.  ~Claude Monet

I hope this Sunday has brought you a moment of happiness.

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches