WELCOME TO MY JOURNAL

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I am an ARRRRTist, and when I grow up I will hopefully be an ARTIST.

You may not be impress with my techniques, quality of subjects in my images. But you will not call me boring, I guarantee.

 

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About Me:

Likes: Kids and sunny days

Dislikes: Two-faced people

Love: My children and grandchildren

Hate: Any indoctrination

Food: My wife’s cooking

Cuisine: Dalmatian www.google.ca/search?q=Dalmatinska+kuzina&tbm=isch&am...

Cars: Ones I cannot afford

Colour: Clear one

Animals: Dogs and dogs.

Flowers: All

Music: Jazz

Art: ALL

Admiring persons: my parents, my grandparents and my children

Role model: Dead ones

My age: Young in hart

Admiring Leaders: From another planet, perhaps

Politics: Couldn't be conservative bullshiter and positively wouldn't be a lying "liberal"

Experience: More than familiar with BS in all forms and shapes; political,professional, historical, religious, social, business ..etc**

Best time in my life: TODAY and TOMORROW, if lucky

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I have been in many places, but I've never been in Cahoots. Apparently, you can't go alone. You have to be in Cahoots with someone. I've also never been in Cognito. I hear no one recognizes you there. I have, however, been in Sane. They don't have an airport; you have to be driven there. I have made several trips there, thanks to my friends, family and work. I would like to go to Conclusions, but you have to jump a lot, and I'm not too much on physical activity anymore. I have never been in Doubt. That is a sad place to go, and I try not to visit there. I've been in Flexible, but only when it was very important to stand firm. Sometimes I'm in Capable, and I go there more often as I'm getting older. One of my favorite places to be is in Suspense! It really gets the adrenalin flowing and pumps up the old heart! At my age I need all the stimuli I can get! And more and more I think of the Here After. Several times a day, in fact, I enter a room and think “What am I here after?”

Sound familiar??? Join the Club!

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(unknown author)

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A POEM TO WHICH I CAN RELATE

 

I remember the bologna of my childhood,

And the bread that we cut with a knife,

When the children helped with the housework,

And the men went to work not the wife.

 

The cheese never needed a fridge,

And the bread was so crusty and hot,

The children were seldom unhappy

And the wife was content with her lot.

 

I remember the milk from the bottle,

With the yummy cream on the top,

Our dinner came hot from the oven,

And not from a freezer or shop.

 

The kids were a lot more contented,

They didn't need money for kicks,

Just a game with their friends in the road,

And sometimes the Saturday flicks.

 

I remember the shop on the corner,

Where cookies for pennies were sold

Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic?

Or is it....I'm just getting old?

 

Bathing was done in a wash tub,

With plenty of rich foamy suds

But the ironing seemed never ending

As Mama pressed everyone's 'duds'.

 

I remember the slap on my backside,

And the taste of soap if I swore

Anorexia and diets weren't heard of

And we hadn't much choice what we wore.

 

Do you think that bruised our ego?

Or our initiative was destroyed?

We ate what was put on the table

And I think life was better enjoyed.

 

Author, Unknown

  

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-----///\\------Please

----///--\\\----put this

---|||----|||---on your

---|||-- -|||---profile if

---|||-- -|||---you know

----\\\--///----someone

-----\\\///-----who is living with, survived

------///\-----or has passed away from

-----///\\\----cancer.

----///--\\\---Thank you.