Moonstruck Musings of A Painter

What a difference a day makes. Yesterday morning I woke to a warm, snoring dreadlocked Rasta man wrapped around me, and my furry god curled up at our feet. I felt warm and sexy and sensuous. This morning I woke to a cold bed. Not even a dog to warm me.  I've had my sexy Rasta man here with me for a week again, this time after a six week separation. I dropped him off at Ronald Reagan National Airport . After a quick kiss for me and head pat for the dog, he was gone again. The dog, (formerly known as"furry god" ) has decided he is gone because of me and ignores me except to ask to go outside. He wouldn't even sleep on the bed like he usually does. But I won't let it get me down! Nope. This is the perfect morning for some self pampering with no self-shaming. I laid in bed watching 1 & 2 star Netflix movies (one of my stranger proclivities) until 11am this morning (got up to take the dog out at six as usual though). After that I felt ambitious, so I ran a hot bubb

There is a delightful chill in the air this morning that reminds me Fall is almost here. The leaves on a few trees behind my house have already turned red, blazing the way for Pumpkin Spice season. Yesterday I got started on my decorating, going with a rustic combination theme of harvest time and ancestor veneration. I haven't gotten my wall hangings yet, but I will soon. All that decorating got my creative juices flowing, and this year for today, the 14th anniversary of my dads passing through the veil, I put together this wall hanging. As you may have guessed or I may have said before, Dad was a painter. He did mostly residential wall or house painting, but also some faux marble and wood painting. He could also paint in oils beautifully. I saw a painting he did when he was younger and had time, and it made me sad that providing for us kids had stolen all his time from him for creating beautiful things. Ah, well, no changing it now. Now all I can do is be glad of the memories; pla