

A blog category about finding “art” in unexpected places and situations.
“Breakfast Boy,” featuring sausage from Hunter Cattle Company up the road in Statesboro, GA, along with HR’s hash brown, bell pepper and onion patty.
I’m sad to inform you that this piece of art is not available for purchase. It has already been … “purchased.”
A post from back in 2014 about my grandson Gabriel, aka “G.”
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I have FOUR grandchildren. (Yes, you’re right, I’m FAR too young. We all know that. It’s a given. But sometimes Mother Nature has a way of bypassing her laws of when people should have grandchildren–and presents them in, well, early, early middle age.)
Anyway, the second-from-the-oldest-grandchild is Gabriel, 5, a rambunctious bundle of pure little boy-ness. He’s often affectionately referred to simply as “G.” In his most recent pre-K school report, the patient-as-a-saint and give-her-a-raise teacher wrote that Gabriel is “smart, funny, with many friends … and has a touch of naughtiness.”
Here’s G (on the far right) with a few school buddies,
And here he is the other night with older brother Daniel (8).
Today I received this text from my daughter/G’s mom Amy:
The brutal honesty of children.
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Back to 2022. Here’s Gabriel yesterday trying on his new contacts.
And over the weekend playing basketball against a much bigger fellow.
After I finished this post, I shared the old picture of Gabriel and Daniel with Amy. She found an old video of the same night when they were dressed in the oversized jackets…
Kiwi: “I’m sorry, but I can’t elope with you.”
Cantaloupe: “I just don’t understand. I keep peppering you with my affection.” 
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Does your breakfast talk like this when you are trying to start your day?!
It gets on my last nerve.
(FYI: I put freshly ground black pepper on everything.)
(FYI 2: Robert thinks it’s a little weird too.)
A blog category of pics I’ve taken of Hubby Robert and … well, just about anything.
Robert and … a big bite of hambone soup.
So Husband Robert and I took grandtwin Matthew to his rec department basketball practice this evening.
Matthew is the one with his arms spread in the white T-shirt.
His team is in a basketball dance, of sorts.
After practice:
Abu (my grandchildren’s name for me): “Did you have fun?”
Matthew:”Yes!”
That’s all that matters.
A blog category about finding “art” in unexpected places and situations.
On a recent Atlanta trip, Robert and I ventured over to the Callanwolde Fine Arts Center to experience their yearly Christmas extravaganza.
After we enjoyed the very festive inside, (you can read about it here if you have any interest, and why on earth wouldn’t you?), we ventured back out. Robert, always on a quest to find the perfect photo op, hightailed it up these steps to Dr. Goldman’s Memorial Garden (which just looked like a bunch of shivering bushes to me) …
I think they plagiarized that quote from Judy Garland or somebody.
But HR (Husband Robert, remember?) hightailed it a bit too soon, if you ask me. Look back up in the pic above at that flagstone step leading up to Dr. Goldman’s “Garden.”
No, not the middle of the step … to the right. Do you see what I saw? Look closer!
Okay, I’ll help you. Here’s a professional reenactment of the moment I saw her/him/it/they.
A fat little bluish gray bird!
Someone with creative eyes saw the gray flagstone, placed a berry for an eye, and a piece of wood with a leaf for the bird’s wing!
For some reason, that little bird thrilled me (it doesn’t take much) on that cold Atlanta day. So, not to be creatively outdone, I found another little piece of wood and a leaf, and made a baby bird for the fat mama bird!
Maybe it looks a little rough, but give it a break, it was just born! How would you feel if someone posted a picture of you seconds after you were born?
Art in unexpected places.
And look what I found when I Googled more of the lyrics from Dr. Goldman’s plagiarized quote …
Somewhere over the rainbow, BLUE BIRDS fly
Birds fly over the rainbow, why then, oh why can’t I?
If happy little blue birds fly beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can’t I?
My family. I own it …
To be awkwardly continued …