My wise Mama liked to say, “If something doesn’t work, oh well. Try again.”  And that was my aim throughout 2022, The Year of Experimentation.  Try this, try that. Give that a try. And, if a try doesn’t work, try another way. Try until I am satisfied and then give another way a try. Why not?  Here are some  highlights of my 2022:  1.  Paints poured and roared over paper, canvasses, and other surfaces. 2.  Beads and buttons and bits of jewelry were strung into sun catchers. 3. Fabric, paper, pictures, and etcetera were turned into cards, collages, calendars  hangings, and a headboard. 4. I got over my fear of sewing elastic, as well as practiced patience ripping out worn-out elastic from pants and skirts. 5. I got back into writing poetry . 6. I’ve opened the folders of an unfinished project I started, oh my gosh, 40some years ago, about the history of Filipino Americans in my hometown and county, where I was born, raised, and returned. 7.  I discovered that the slips I grew from a sw

(1) Tick. Tick. Tick. I asked the Husband to investigate the ticking sound in the L Studio closet yesterday afternoon. I hadn’t heard it before. “Hush,” he said, reaching for an item from the shelf way up high.  (2) He opened a small black case that held a polaroid camera once upon a time. Tick. Tick. Tick.  The green wall clock! I wondered where it had gone. The Husband asked, “Did you think a bomb was in there?”  (3) Nervous Nelly. She is me. I am her. (4)  It’s nearly very soon for my-new-knee adventure to begin. (5) I discovered on Sunday that we don’t have enough decent soup bowls, dessert plates, and other dining ware for a dinner party of six and more. That’s what I get for retiring a lot of Mama’s and my dinnerware to the garden and crafting bins. (6) Dirty gin martinis with eggplant dip and chia and quinoa chips. Orange kobacha soup with petite slices of toasted walnut bread and pastrami bagels. Carbonara bucatini and roasted Brussel sprouts. A trifle of limoncello-soaked almo

(1) It’s raining, hurrah, hurrah! The weather experts predict rain until Tuesday, yippiee! (2) Rainy days mean soup is on. Today I simmered a huge pot of chicken backs and necks, with a big bulb of garlic. I ought to be able to freeze 4 pints worth of chicken broth.  (3) The past few summers we’ve been able to purchase 10 or so pasture-raised chickens straight from a farm, enough to get us through the next summer.  Definitely a difference in quality and taste from mass-produced birds, even after several months in the freezer. (4) I made corn chowder with some of the chicken broth. I sautéed onions in olive oil with pickled peppers and leftover roasted potato and leftover Chinese broccoli. Don’t you love it when you can turn leftovers into something else? (5) I’ve decided to stop counting down the days to my knee surgery and simply think of it happening soon, quite soon, very soon, and the day has arrived.  (6) With good fortune, nothing will interfere with surgery taking place. Have I

For  Art for Fun Friday : Acrylics on tiny canvas (turned into a magnet) This week I’m sharing with  Thursday 13 ,  I Like Thursday ,  Art for Fun Friday ,  and  Friday Writings .  For  Thursday 13 and Friday Writings (prompt: ordinary) ( 1) Where oh where are my red reading glasses? (2) What oh what do I make for our main meal? (3) I’ll vacuum tomorrow. Maybe. (4) Dear Diary, says the Husband as he passes by me clickity clacking on the iPad. (5) What shall I do today? (6) I’m doing a load of bottoms. Do you want your jeans washed?  (7) Have you been drinking water? asks the Husband. (8) It’s garbage day. (9) Mail call! (10) Sniff, sniff, achooo. . . Really need to dust. (11) Jazz, rock, swing, tropical, what shall we listen to? (12) Going outside. (13) Kiss, kiss. I love you. Night-night. For  Art for Fun Friday : Acrylics on canvas For  I Like Thursday:   Mama’s Gravy LeeAnna, host of I Like Thursday , asks participants to share a Thanksgiving recipe that we love. If I could, I’d s

Let’s see, my knee surgery is scheduled for December 14, today is November 7, so that makes…what…37 days to go. Oh-oh. I haven’t even begun to clear the surfaces in L Studio, particularly the bed we think we’ll be sleeping on during the first weeks of my recovery. Who knows, maybe I can make it upstairs.  For that matter, I haven’t made my to-do list for this week and it’s already time to think about about what to make for our main meal of the day. Something out of tofu, black beans, white rice, zucchini, and a portobello mushroom. There are a couple slices of bacon in the fridge, too. This morning I thought about pickling peppers and making kimchi. How time flies when you’re retired. I’ll just put them on my list. The Husband and I did go for a walk, yaay! We were figuring the shortest way to walk to  the physical therapy clinic where I’m supposed to go for a pre-op session later this month. We are still without a car, so I must think these things out. It’s a little over half mile awa

The Husband and I received our second booster shot yesterday.  Almost everything the Husband and I do together is fun. And, so it was, as we waited for our shot and for the 15 minutes after receiving the Covid-19 booster to make sure there were no ill effects. We’re fortunate that our primary physician offers the vaccines. It makes the process less stressful and more friendly. The doctor is a perfect host, going from one station to the other to greet patients and make sure we are okey-dokey. We got to sit in the waiting room, front seat to all the action. We watched old and older people shuffle through the door, in and out. Many were couples like ourselves.  Yes, we found it crazy to think we were as old or older than the other folks. Most likely, they thought the same thing. I thought I had my vaccine card in my wallet. It was not.  The last few days, the Husband asked, “Do you have your card?” Yes, said I, with so much confidence I didn’t  check my wallet. Where else would it be? Ver

  "Toothbrush." I sat patiently for the Husband to open the package.  "Very hot water." I held up a metal bowl filled with cold water. "You'll have to throw that water out first." I must've looked quite vacant as I sat debating myself where to do that when the Husband offered me two options. I stood up. "Baking soda." The Husband poured the powder. "More, don't be stingy."  "Vinegar."   The task was done. We sounded like play surgeons. Just for the heck of it, I asked the Husband to pour baking soda into the two openings of the u-shaped pipe that was full of vinegar. Sizzzzzzzle. "Like a volcano," said the Husband.  This morning the Husband had to unscrew the pipe from the bathroom sink because the brush part of a paintbrush dropped into the drain while I was washing it. Oops.  It turned out the brush was still stuck in the drain, but with some pushing and pulling, it easily slid out. What became a bigger

The other day I was thinking about how there are quite a few songs about specific women, such as Michelle, Louise, and Clementine. That got me to wondering what songs do I know that are about particular men. It wasn't easy. I didn't want to Google the answer, so the Husband ( My Guy ) kindly helped me come up with this list. Johnny Angel The Boy from Ipanema Johnny B. Goode Wedding Bell Blues (Remember Bill?)  When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again Go Down Moses  Hit the Road Jack Rocky Raccoon Louie Louie Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy Frere Jacques Shaft John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt  There sure are a lot of songs about particular John's. What's that all about? If I look up Shaft, will I find out his real name is John. To check out other bloggers with lists of 13, head to Thursday 13 . P.S. John Shaft, by golly!

1. I hear rain beneath the jazz channel playing on the TV downstairs.  2. The ornamental pear tree is dancing with white flowers.  3. I had to give in this afternoon and change from shorts to long pants.   4. Jamie Raskin!  5. I'm verily impressed with the House Impeachment Managers. They delivered their points, facts, and proof succinctly, comprehensively, and in easy to understand terms. How well will Trump's lawyers convince us Trump's alternative facts are true?  6. Our doctor's office, a provider of the COVID-19 vaccine in our county, called an hour ago to say our age group is now up for the shots. The Husband and I have an appointment for next week.  7.  This morning, I drove around town with four huge bags of potting soil sitting in Eliza Does-a-lot's back seat. There used to be five, but the other day I asked the Husband to pull out a bag so I could plant the potatoes. We bought the soil on Monday.  8. I made broccoli and pine nuts mac & cheese for today

Three weeks ago, I wrote a list of projects I wouldn't mind completing this year. So far, I've pruned two fruit trees, sowed some wildflower seeds in the backyard, and have begun organizing photos to scan. I like to think that I've brought my blood pressure down. We'll see what the doc says on Friday.  I've added another item to my list: finish painting all the electrical wall plates in the house. At the moment, I'm working on the wall plates in the kitchen. So fun!  

"Let's make valentines for our friends," I said. "Okay," he said. Have we started? No. #1 Am I becoming Mama? As I pulled out the pit from the avocado, I noticed that it had sprouted. It gave out vibes like it wanted to grow, to become a tree.  Our avocado tree began bearing fruit about 10 years ago, more or less. Mama planted seeds throughout the backyard and many (if not all!) of them sprouted. After Mama's Spirit soared into the Universe, I pulled out over 20 avocado plants in the yard, including a couple growing among the roses. Ouch! Yeah, I saved the avocado pit. It's nesting on top of a potted plant on the kitchen counter. If it grows, it grows. It's time for Mosaic Monday , a weekly meme hosted by Angela of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf . It's a cool meme and blog to visit.

"Did you see our new butterfly sanctuary?" I asked the Husband.  "Look to the South. . .by the fence. . .to your right. . .I mean the other way." "Where?" The husband turned his head here and there, mostly here. "There," I said. "Our butterfly sanctuary!" The Husband groaned. "I thought you meant real butterflies. You nut!" :-)

It was the sweet hour of the sun heading home. I stood in L Studio, my back to the window, taking advantage of the still bright natural light. La, la, la. I snipped away at a strip of red card stock to fit in a discarded book's hanging-for-dear-life spine. I wanted to fortify the spine before sewing in my own page signatures to make an art journal. Fun.  La, la, la. . . . Bzzz. What the heck? Bzzzzzz. Louder. Bzzzzzzzzzzzz. And louder. BzzzZZZZZZZZZ. Over my head and around to my back. BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.  I turned and stepped to the window.  Striding around the corner of the house and towards the window was our neighbor to the north, his leafblower strapped to his belly like a weapon. I recognized him instantly. What was he doing here? How did he get in the backyard?  Our neighbor is a law enforcement officer. Was something wrong? We locked eyes immediately. Neither of us seemed that much surprised to see each other.  "Your husband said a lot of dust blew over to your side when

  I was so intensely busy the last two months that I'm finding it difficult switching into rest mode, or simply a slow-going pace. I feel like I ought to be doing something productive. Not doing big things such as repainting the garage door or writing my family history. No. It's more like the other day when I rolled up nearly a hundred bucks in pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters or like today when I did an editing sample that was not requested.  If this is my rest mode, well, good for me. :-)

Zip, rip. Wrap. Zip, rip. Wrap. "That looks like fun," said the Husband. "Want to make one?" See the yellow butterfly in the above photo mosaic. That's the Husband's creation. I love it when the Husband plays artsy-crafty with me. Over the past few months, we transformed hangers and colored and patterned tape into four butterflies. The fourth butterfly was shy about getting its photo taken. We think it may be hiding near the back fence. I thought it would be cool to hang butterflies around the backyard. I was done after making three. I still have a lot hangers. What to do with them? What to do? A PLYWOOD BOARD Who has made a desk by setting a solid piece of plywood (or door) over two file cabinets (or something like that)? My canvas of a plywood board was once my desk top when the Husband and I lived in the big city area almost two decades ago. Pshew, wow. I wrote a whole bunch of good stuff on that desk. Before being my desk, the plywood board was the

1. The Husband and I successfully fulfilled our monthly date for vacuuming, dusting, and mopping the house. Three months in a row. Definitely a whoop-de-doo! for us. The carpet feels so good beneath our bare feet. 2. Here's another thing I'm proud about doing today. I successfully pulled a curly dock weed, more than 60 inches tall, from the middle of a young butterfly bush. Poor guy. The two plants' roots were stuck together, but not entwined, so I was able to pry them apart. Hopefully the young butterfly bush was not too traumatized. 3. I need to go out and check the seeds I planted last week. They may need a drink of water. 4. But, first I need to go cook our main meal for us. I do miss not cooking. 5. Here I am again. The seeds got their sips of water. I saw two sunflower sprouts. Yippieeee. 6. After marinating locally produced grass-fed beef stew in a concoction of spices, vinegar, oil, and whatever else for a few hours, I sliced the meat thinly a

"Do you think someone might report our backyard as a nuisance?" "Nobody can see back there." answered the Husband.  "Snoops can," I said, thinking about that drone we saw one afternoon turning around above our house. I wondered if it had followed us home. The bastard. As Mama liked to say after I said something weird, but quite entertaining to her, "You have too much imagination." "It's nobody's business how our backyard looks," the Husband said.  I imagined him word-sparring with a snoop. The Husband, my hero.  At this particular point in time, the backyard looks like a colorful junkyard in the Spring. I find its look comforting. It's familiar to a time past. It gives me strength to keep on keeping on. I wonder if that's how Mama felt when she played out there, growing her vegetables and tending to her flowers.  It's my turn now to transform the backyard into a fantasy of my making. I have

I forgot what I thought I wanted to write about. That's what happens when too much time passes between Ah-ha-I've-something-to write and turning on the computer, which may only be a matter of climbing the stairs to the office. Obviously it wasn't anything worth saying out loud. Ever wonder if you've said or written something that was quoted by others? Wouldn't that be cool? Yesterday our governor (in California) urged all of us, senior citizens, to stay put in our homes so that we won't risk contracting the coronavirus. The Husband and I pretty much hunker down most of the time, so this suggested decree is not a burden. Although I did panic for a moment when I thought we might not pay our property tax bill on time because the bank and the tax office may suddenly close. Then it came to me that we can use a credit car to pay online or over the phone. I'd rather not, so I may suggest to the Husband that we go out in the world sooner rather than l