Name: Magga Reykjavik, Iceland Ægir´s Mom and Charley´s girl
No tennis and no golf for me. Retired,- yes but seems I have never been busier. I love horses but now only talk to them and pat them when they come visit me when in the country. I love being around my grandchildren, walk the dog every day, sew, clean and cook for at least 5 people. I am an expert in pushing wheelbarrows full of manure, showelling earth and planting homegrown tree seedlings and perennial flowers. Then I just love to throw myself on the soft mossy/grassy ground and watch the clouds and the birds in the sky.
Thanks Nap. I love it too. I especially love those colors. I didn't intend to sell it but somebody came along and saw it and offered a huge amount of money (it was painted on the back rest of a metal kitchen stool) so of course out the door it went. The stool even had a little dent in it. I always think when I sell a favorite that I can just paint another one.
But that was about 3 or 4 years ago and I have never painted another rooster!
Yes. It was an old metal stool, too.
And it creaked.
But it was an amazingly great color combination with the rooster on it. So to that woman, she got an original piece of art work that most likely is and always will be the only one of its kind for $250. Her offer.
She was happy and so was I.
I've also painted a lot of wooden chairs in a similar style and have sold them too but for more money than the little metal stool. I had to start doing them by commission because I was running out of places to buy old chairs and couldn't keep up with the demand. The prettiest one was done in royal blue with a magnolia painted on the largest area of it. I also did one for a lady with a Christmas theme, it was black and on the seat I painted a large bright red poinsettia. I have two that I kept, one is a small chair that is orange and has a big blue poppy on its seat, the other is a large wooden bar stool and it is yellow with pansies on it. I just made them extra and never tried to sell them. I enjoy recycling things like that.
I suspect you are a bit more utilitarian than that, you see the chair first as most important, the art work is merely a bit of flair. Nothing wrong with that either.
Ya, I've learned I don't guess at relationships either. I know from experience how embarrassing it is to assume "mother" when it's the guy's wife! LOL... or GRANDCHILD when's their own child... need I go on??
I did that recently, assumed mother. A single guy moved in up the street and I noticed occasionally there was an older woman with him, working out in the yard, painting the trim on the house, things like that. He looked to be about 50 and she looked to be nearer my age, 70 at the time.
After he had lived here for a couple of months, another neighbor said she was watching their house for them because they were on a cruise for their honeymoon.
Floored me! Completely.
She has beautiful gray hair, but her face looks very much younger than her hair does. I'm glad I didn't make that mistake out loud.
YES!!! Better to not make that mistake out loud! I frequently am out to dinner with my oldest son Dana & his wife with my 2nd son Kevin. People look funny at us, I know they are trying to figure out if I am Kevin's date! LOL
When I was single, a good friend of Kevin's was frequently at some of our family stuff. His girlfriend was out of the area and I would introduce him as my "date".
And I know about the Mother/Son dilemma first hand. When my son was about 18 my weakest polio leg decided not to cooperate when I was stepping out of the car onto a graveled parking lot. My body went down in an ungraceful heap, I could hear the bone snap. I could barely drag myself back into the car. Short version . . . my 6'+ tall son picked me up and placed me in his car, drove quickly to the nearest hospital, carried me from the car to the ER doors which opened automatically and the sight of us brought several ER people running. They quickly got me to a bed and I left my purse and insurance papers with my son so he could deal with them while I tried to keep from screaming loud enough to unlevel the lake.
Several times the ER staff asked me a question and finally I guess they saw the misery all over my face when I saw that bone pushing through near my ankle . . . so one of them said "It's OK, we'll ask your husband when he is here."
The misery might have kept me from correcting them the first few times they said it but when he walked through the door and they said 'husband' again, I think I shouted to the heavens . . "This is my SON!!' Funny now, not so funny then. And probably even less funny to him.