We are Living It!

Artist’s Quote: “As for worrying about what other people might think – forget it. They aren’t concerned about you. They’re too busy worrying about what you and other people think of them.” Michaelle Boeuf, Speaker and Author

We are living IT.

My sweet Al said, “Sit down and watch Duck Dynasty with me.”

I asked, “Why? I’m living Duck Dynasty in my own home.”

Our family came home for the holidays. We always expect crazy things to happen, this year was no exception. With the weather hitting -20 degrees, we woke up to frozen pipes with no water. We all said, “Of course, it always happens.”

The phone was dead for five days. We waited for the telephone company to fix it. Come to find out, the phone had been unplugged from the wall. No one bothered to check it out.

Snow came on Christmas Eve. We decided since we had thirteen people in the house, not to go to the Church Service, we would have our own services. It took a mastermind to quiet the group down. We decided we needed a leader to take authority over the evening. That seemed to work. We read the Christmas story. I wanted to reflect on it. My daughter said I was getting too deep, and it was time to move on to more memorable moments. I guess Baby Jesus will understand.

Each shared their most special Christmas. I was amazed how many things the kids remembered over the years and how important they had become. We were in the midst of establishing traditions and making memories, whether we thought we were, or not.

We have one grandson, who is a member of the wrestling team. His coach reminded him to stay in shape over the holidays. He was constantly picking up the women in the family, throwing them over his shoulder, running with them down the hall, and throwing them on the bed. The women in our family are not dainty little things. I believe he had a good workout, the coach would be proud. Right now he stands at 11 wins, 1 loss. We are hoping for State, we’ve got a good shot.

Our son lit the Wolf Stove. There was a big bang of gas and fire. He said, “It’s a good thing I shave my head.”

I stared at him with his singed eyebrows and blackened face. I rolled my eyes and said, “You’re right.”

I told Allison, one of our daughter, “That stove never worked right, but I thought I had to own a Wolf Stove because David’s fourth wife, Dana, had one. We paid a fortune for it. I’d never do that again.

She said, “Dana has moved on and out of the family; and you still have your Wolf Stove.”

I said, “You’re right. I guess you can get rid of a husband, but you’ll live with a stove or old sofa for the rest of your life.”

Then there is our youngest daughter who loves to bake. Before the holidays, she baked 40 loaves of different kinds of bread. Each time she baked, she gave My Sweet Al and I one loaf. We asked for more, but she said they were for the family during the holidays. She hid them in the freezer.

During the holidays, every morning, she had loaves of banana nut, cranberry, lemon poppy seed, nutty, and Chocolate zucchini with nuts laid out for the family. Our oldest daughter said she could hardly wait every morning to see what the Bread Fairy was going to bring. We were never disappointed.

Every member of the family brings something different to the mix. We have all learned to endure, enjoy, and laugh at each other. It seems to work for us.

For New Years Eve, we pulled out all the old family movies. We laughed at all the fun we have had over the years, with skits and games, and taking the canoe down the river. It brought back many wonderful memories. As crazy as our family is, we are still family, and we wouldn’t change anything.

Everyone has left and it’s back to Al and I. I’ve been shoveling out and cleaning up the mess. It’s time to take down the Christmas decorations, and get back to normal. Al has taken back the remote and his brown chair. I’ve taken back my computer and kitchen. It sure is quiet around here.

Final Brushstroke! Duck Dynasty has nothing on us. They are living their reality on television, and we are living our reality in the newspaper. All is good.

Reader’s Comments: Send in your comments to betty@bettyslade.com

Take your Best Shot! Roll with the Punches!

Artist’s Quote: “We don’t see things the way they are. We see them the way WE are.” Talmud

Take your Best Shot! Roll with the Punches!

Do you remember Picture Day? No matter how hard you tried to look your best, those pictures still come back to haunt you. Your mother cut your bangs crooked, or she made you wear some awful thing, and then she sent you off to school for Picture Day. It is now a permanent record in the school yearbook to remind you years later of those days.

One day you grow up and have children, and then they have children. Your grandchild takes your picture and it goes virile. Now the whole world sees you in your worse moment.

During the holidays, we have had a house full of family. Of course, every moment is a Kodak moment. Our annual family portrait was no exception. We have two recluses in the family. Looking at the final poses, we noticed everyone was clustered close together except one. He was standing three feet away from the group. He will remind us one day that he was not included in the family, and never was.

Then, there was the moment of virile exposure. For Christmas, my son bought me an I-Pad4. My son and grandson (16) began the process of registering it, and proceeded to teach me how to use it. They thought it was funny that I know so little about all this new technology. Of course, they took advantage of the moment.

My grandson installed Instagram and said, “This is an example.” He grabbed his baseball cap, turned it sideways, plopped it on my head, and took a picture of me.

I said, “What are you doing?”

He said, “It’s just for us to see. It’s just an example.”

“Are you putting this on Facebook?”

“No, Grandma.”

My son reached over and hit “Share”. I still don’t know if the whole world saw that ridiculous picture. The day before, he took a picture of me in all my excitement with my new I-Pad. I didn’t know it, but he put it on Facebook.

My other grandson (17) came into the house and said, “All my friends saw your Facebook photo and they thought you were “Hot.”

“What? It was on Facebook? That was a terrible picture.”

“Grandma, you’re famous. You’ve already had 21 hits.”

I’m thinking, I’m an old woman. Is this really happening to me? My grandson said his friends thought I was Hot. What is Hot in the mind of a seventeen year old boy? I can only imagine.

I asked my grandson, “Did all MY friends see that picture, too?”

He said, “Grandma, your friends are not the same as your followers. You have 500 friends, but you have only three followers.”

What does that mean? What’s the difference between friends and followers? It’s one more thing I have to learn. My mind is on overload and is about to explode. How did I get here with all this new technology and four teenage grandchildren, who know more than I do? I have to rely on them to teach me.

They love playing around with all this stuff. They think it’s funny that I don’t know anything about it. My granddaughter said, “Grandma, don’t call it an I-Mac. Just say Mac.”

I said, “Okay, I’ll remember to say Mac.”

We have all laughed until we cried, but mostly the joke has been on me. My son posted on Facebook, “My Mother is a nutcase.” He posted the day he left for the Philippines, “My Dad is the most beautiful man I know.” Go figure. I think they are getting back at me for all the stories I’ve told on them.

It would be easier to grow old in front of the television, but I’ve got to give this life my best shot and roll with the punches. I’ve still got too many books, stories, articles, art and ideas to stop. Now I’m hooked on all this new fangled technology, and I can’t do without it either.

Final Brushstroke! My family has exposed me to the world. I don’t think there is an end to it. My picture is no longer in a yearbook tucked away on some dusty shelf, now it’s on everyone’s computer and I-Pad. What next?

Reader’s Comments: Send in your comments to betty@bettyslade.com. I love to hear from you. I know I’m not the only grandmother out there, living in a world of teenagers and technology.

It was Meant That We Should Meet

Artist Quote: “Without leaps of imagination, or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.” Gloria Steinem, Writer and Journalist.

 It was meant that we should meet

I don’t remember the last time My Sweet Al and I stayed up past midnight, partying, and bringing in the New Year. We were not up for the challenge, and didn’t want to be.

Apparently, challenges are different for different people and their reasoning makes no sense to anyone else, but themselves.

When I asked my friend, Gloria, from Arizona what her challenge was for the New Year? She said, “I want to ride the Kohala Ziplines.”

I said, “You must be kidding. Don’t you want to write a best seller, or do something memorable and important?”

She said, “No. Why?”

I asked another friend, Debra, what her challenge was for the New Year?

She said, “I want to learn to speak Italian.”

I said, “Why? Do you know anyone who speaks Italian?”

“No. I don’t know anyone. Maybe I’ll have to go to Italy.”

I asked Al’s brother, David, who is into the nightlife, “What is your challenge for this coming year?”

He said, “Picking up women. It leads to nothing, but it’s a challenge. I like to see if I still have it.”

                                      I guess you can guess, My Sweet Al is on the left, David on the right.

I said to him, “I must be missing something here. Aren’t we supposed to challenge ourselves with something important? Some thing to change our lives or someone else’s life?”

“Not really.”

I told him, “Well, my challenges probably won’t sound fun to you, but I plan to have a new I-Pad 2 by March, launch my second novel, and publish my Artist’s Lane Articles into a book by February. And, most important, clean up my three websites, and ten blogspots. I plan to organize, and re-purpose my work. I also want to video my art classes and make them available. Now, that’s my challenges for 2013.”

He didn’t acknowledge me, but proceeded to tell me his latest challenge. “I was in Scottsdale, Arizona, I needed to get away from Albuquerque. A friend and I went to several high price clubs. When I sat down, I noticed a young woman across the room. I told my friend, ‘Watch this.’”

I looked at her, and she looked at me. She was with an older man, apparently a client. Who knows? Maybe it was another boyfriend. It doesn’t matter. It’s all about the challenge.”

“We had a nice meal, and my friend said, ‘It’s time to go.’”

I said, “No, it’s not time yet.”

“The friend of the young woman across the room got up, and went outside. She stood and walked toward my table. When she came by, I slightly held out my hand, and our hands touched.”

I looked at her and said, “It was meant we should meet.”

And she said, “Yes, it was.”

“When she walked by, she had a faint fragrance, not too strong, but intoxicating.”

He stopped swooning long enough for me to tell him I was going to use his line, “It was meant we should meet.” It sounds like a line from a movie. In fact I’ve got to use this line in one of my books.

I immediately pictured the words on the page of my best seller. She walked by, and her faint fragrance was intoxicating. Not too strong, but intoxicating. I said to her, “It was meant we should meet.” She looked my way and said, “Yes, it was.”

I stopped stroking my own ego and retuned to stroking his. I asked him, “Did she actually put out her hand?”

 “I don’t know, but the hand was there.” He laughed. “I asked her if I could take her home?”

She said, “No. She had to go, she would miss her ride.”
“How can I find you?”

“On Facebook. My name is _______.”

I told my friend, “Remember her name for me.”

I looked her up on Facebook when I got home and I found out who she is, what she does, and how old she is.”

I asked him, “How old is she?”

“Twenty-seven. It just a challenge.”

I said to David, “Danica Patrick with Nascar, just got a divorce.”

Believe it or not, he said, “Tell Al, get me her number. I want to call her.”

Now, that’s a big challenge, talk about an ego. I wouldn’t put it past him. 2013 holds a lot of challenges, important or frivolous. It might be the year to meet someone you were meant to meet, and a new challenge on Facebook. You might write that best seller, or learn a new language. It doesn’t matter, it’s important to you.

Final Brushstroke! Whether it is a good line for a book, a slick line to pick up the women, or a zipline to ride on, we all have our challenges. I guess they feed our egos and cause us to dream big.

Reader’s Comments: Send in your comments to betty@bettyslade.com. Look for my new book, Year of Grace, in the Spring. The Artist’s Lane Articles are being compiled into a new book, Living Life on the Front Page. It will be available in February.

The Ugly One

My friend Judy said, “Its pajama weather and we need to put pajamas on Jake (the dog) again but Sam says, ‘Don’t tell Betty anything, she will write about it.’”

“Oh don’t worry about Sam; he loves reading about himself in the newspaper. He just acts touchy,” I assured her about her husband.

My daughter, Allison, called and said, “I feel terrible, I called Daisy the ugly one and she might not make it.”

I said, “I know, I called Daisy ugly too. Your sister, Angel, reprimanded me about saying anything in front of Daisy about her long ears; and warned me about writing anything about her in the newspaper.”

I told your sister, “Oh you love when I write about Daisy. Don’t be so touchy.”

So here I go again. No one wants me to write about them, but they all love to read about themselves in the newspaper. Go figure. I’m writing nice things about Daisy this week. I guess I need to watch what I say, seems everyone is touchy these days.

This week proved to be a lesson for all of us. Our daughter, Angel, owns Daisy. Angel is affectionate about animals. I don’t hold the same affection, as you have all guessed. So when some one says they spent $2,000.00 at the animal vet, I ask, “Why? It doesn’t make sense.”

Something happened to Daisy. She started bleeding from her mouth. My daughter called our son-in-law and said, “Will you come over and look at my dog?”

He did and said, “We need to call a vet.” Which they did, they hauled poor Daisy off to the vet and after a blood transfusion, oxygen, x-rays and several days at the veterinary’s office, Daisy still had a fifty-fifty chance. You can imagine the doctor’s bill.

I thought I was being nice and sympathetic and gave Angel my advice as she was leaving for work, “Prepare to let her go. There are lots of dogs at the Humane Shelter.”

Apparently I said the wrong thing. My sympathetic words brought more tears. Now everyone at her work was rallying around her. “Take my shift, go see your dog, I understand.” They advised her, “Give her a chance. You’ve already spent X amount of money. She is worth it.”

My son-in-law, the voice of reason said, “Decide how much you can spend. You can’t be emotional about it.”

I thought that was sound advice. In my mind, I am thinking, it’s going to take years for her to pay off the doctor. But I guess some things are worth paying for if someone is willing to pay for it.

What did we all learn? My daughter, Allison and I have learned not to call someone else’s dog ugly. Some times we pay later for what we say earlier.

Some people are willing to pay a long time for something important to them. Some of us are willing to write what is important to us and pay for it later.

As for Daisy, let’s just say she is literally worth her weight in gold. Sam’s dog, Jake, will continue to wear pajamas even if he doesn’t want anyone to know about them. And when I hear a story to write, logic doesn’t come into play, either. I am willing to deal with touchy people and pay later. Sam’s not talking to me, but Judy loves talking about Jake. You win a few and lose a few.

Final Brushstroke! We will all pay for what we think is important and we will usually pay later for it.

It Isn't Greener on the Other Side

Money makes it look greener on the other side until you are on the other side. Al and I were in Placitas on a Sunday morning; looking out at a view of Albuquerque. I marveled at Al’s brother’s home with the indoor swimming pool and the outside infinity pool.

David, Al’s brother, wanted to talk. In a million dollar, 5,000 square foot home he lives alone, he is a great conversationalist and when the fanfare is cleared, he speaks from his heart. He has been a millionaire at least four times and lost it all. Or he has given it to his x-wives. Each time he has always assured everyone he would make it back again and he always has.

In the 80’s, our family sat in Pagosa looking at a snowy picture on television; and watched David run out to the Double Eagle Hot Air Balloon. He had a bottle of wine in his hand and greeted his best friend, Ben Abrusio when he landed his transatlantic flight in Japan. His best friend, Ben, died not too many years later in a plane crash. It was devastating to David. He has seen the up’s and down’s, the in and out’s of life.

We were spending a couple of days with David in Albuquerque and in the middle of this Sunday morning conversation the phone rang. Then it rang again and again and again. Each time he answered and a different woman was on the other end of the line.

“I was thinking of you too,” He said to each one of them.

He hung up and said, “These women are all bored.”

The phone rang again. He answered.

“Oh that was Caroline. She was wondering why she hadn’t heard from me for the last two weeks. I told her it was over.”

You probably remember Caroline, a knockout, twenty-two years old, size 2, Double D’s with twin babies. Apparently, at a wine tasting party, she got out of hand, embarrassed David and he called it off. Now she is calling wondering why she hadn’t heard from him.

David says to us as he hung up the phone. “She’s trouble.”

The phone rang again. It was a divorced woman. David explained to us as he hung up the phone, “She gets eleven thousand dollars a month in alimony. That’s what I said, eleven thousand a month and she is bored.”

David continued, “I know her x-husband and he is a good guy. She said she was bored with him and now she is bored because she is single. She spends and spends and can not spend it fast enough before the next month.”

I told him, “Tell her to invest in herself. Go back to school, help little children, start a small business, do something productive. She needs to know the Lord. God’s got a purpose for her life.”

“They don’t want to hear that, they can’t handle it,” he says.

“It doesn’t sound like she is handling it the way it is.”

Then another woman called, “She is married, but bored,” David said, “I told her to think twice before she gets a divorce. It’s no fun being alone. She thinks she is in love with me and thinks I am going to marry her. I’m not.”

“Are you leading these women on?” I asked him.

“No, I tell all of them I have no intentions of marrying them. They all want to get married. They had good husbands, but they were bored and now they are single and bored.”

“When these women turn forty, they start looking around wanting more. Their husbands are good guys but are complacent and they don’t see what their wives are looking for. They need to get it together, too.”

Then David said, “This life is a dead end. It’s empty but I’m not going to change. I’m lonely and I am not made to be alone. I am glad you and Al have stayed together all these years.”

I said to David, “It wasn’t always easy, and several times we both wanted to throw in the towel, but we stayed together. We cared enough to keep fighting for the marriage. By God’s grace, He kept us together. I have never been bored. I can’t understand that line of thinking.”

In the walls of this million dollar home, with all the posh furniture and beautiful furnishings, it sure looks greener from the out side. But David is the first to admit, it isn’t.

Final Brushstroke! Money makes it look greener. There is sadness in my heart for David and all his young girlfriends. I tease him all the time and he takes it and laughs with me. Aren’t we all trying to get it together? But, does anyone want to hear the truth?

Keep smiling, just keep your mouth closed.

Al and I flew to California for a big gala event in which Cal Thomas was invited to speak. Cal Thomas is a columnist and author, syndicated in over 550 newspapers and is heard on over 300 radio stations. Our daughter heads up this event and the front row seats are reserved for us. It is important we look our best and make our daughter proud.

Just one day before the event, we were having dinner and I looked at Al. He was missing his front tooth. I asked him, “Where is your tooth?”

“I don’t know.” He looked around.

“Al, you ate your tooth.”

“I guess I did.”

“What are you going to do? You can’t smile.”

My daughter, Cricket said, “Why does it always happen to Daddy? The best we do, we always look like the Beverly Hillbillies with the rocking chair on top.”

“I know,” I said, thinking how fitting her statement was; considering how we arrived in California a few days earlier. Al had taken advantaged of the airline’s offer: suitcases fly free. This meant no restrictions on Al and all he could carry, unless he wanted to pay for the extra.

Not only that, Al and our son-in-law hit a few garage sales earlier in the week. I told them both, “If it doesn’t fit, don’t get.” Did they hear me? No. They came home with a whole car load of stuff.

“The man said he was getting rid of it and I could have it for free.”

“But Al, we can only carry a certain amount on the plane.”

“I got this brand new large suitcase for $2.00; I’ll put all the stuff in it.”

“Why did you bring home all those screws? You have a 55 gallon bucket of screws at home?”

“I got them with the plastic cases. They were free.”

“But the weight?”

“They don’t weigh that much and I am going to put them in our garage sale next spring.”

“You are taking home garage sale stuff to put in a garage sale next year?”

“I couldn’t pass it up.”

Back to the tooth! I looked around. I didn’t bring everything I owned. I left my paints in Pagosa, now I needed them. “I will fix it up. Al, give me your partial plate.”

“I’ll just go without my teeth. I can’t go with that big gap.”

“Al, it will look worse without your teeth.”

“Yes, Daddy, you can’t go without your teeth. Maybe I can take it to a dentist tomorrow.”

“We don’t have time, the dinner is tomorrow night. Hand me your teeth, Honey.”

Al cleaned his partial plate and handed it to me. “What about White Out?” I asked.

“Better still, I’ve got white French nail polish; I paint the tips of my fingernails.” Cricket said.

“No, no, no. that won’t look good.” Al resisted.

“Trust me. Get me the French nail polish.” I had Al’s partial plate in my hand; I wasn’t going to give his teeth back until I had them fixed. “It’s got a pearl finish. It will be perfect.”

I went to work. “If I had a little Plaster Paris, Bondo or a little wood filler, I could make you a tooth and I could Superglue it to your partial plate.”

I looked at Al. He was devastated. “Just kidding, I am just going to paint a little tooth on your partial plate; no one will be the wiser.”

“Betty, that’s $10,000.00 worth of dental work you have in your hand. Don’t play with it.”

“No problem, Honey. I’m an artist; I know what I am doing. You will just need to smile with your mouth shut. I’ll have you fixed up in a minute.”

“OK, let me look at them,” I said as I handed them back to Al. “Good as new and it was free.”

The day of the gala event, Al visited the neighbor. The neighbor was pulling out wild blackberry bushes and gave a bunch to Al to take back to Pagosa.

Al was smiling all the way home. “Look what I got. The man was getting rid of them. I need to put some water in them.”

Ten minutes later, Al walked in the door, with an inch gash on his head.”

“Al you are bleeding. Let me fix it.”

Al looked at the big white bandage and said, “That looks terrible.”

“If I had my paints, I could paint a flower on it or camouflage it some way. You’ll just have to go this way.”

I looked over at Al at the banquet. He gave me a big smile and a wink, showing his fake tooth and the white bandage riding on his head.

I looked at him, shook my head and thought, “God loves you. I love you too. I wouldn’t have missed that wink and smile in this moment for anything.”

Final Brushstroke! Free is not always the best way to go, but sometimes it is our only way if we don’t want to miss the moment. Good thing an artist is in the house.

Cashing in on frustration and Hitting Pay Dirt!

At a writer’s conference, we were asked to read something we wrote. I read the article about my frustration with my sweet Al. You might have remembered it, Traveling with Sweet Al and checking into a posh hotel in Reno, Nevada. Everyone laughed and laughed.

An editor in the group said, “Send me one of your humorous articles for my publication.” A broker for writers asked me to join his team of writers also. “Your humorous articles will work for a marriage counseling magazine.”

Who would have thought I could write for a marriage counseling magazine? Make money writing about Al? About couples who fight? And get paid for it? I was about to hit Pay Dirt with a 300 word humorous piece.

I arrived home, kissed Al at the door. He thought I was excited to see him and I should go away more often.

I looked him over in his camouflage. He told me about his hunting that morning. He shot and missed a ten-point buck. His good shooting eye wasn’t so good any more.

I listened to his tale of woe. Even camouflaged, Al couldn’t hide from me. Like a ravenous dog, I was drooling and licking my chops; Al was looking like pork chops to a starving writer.

I moved to the computer. He didn’t know how rich he could make me. I’d tell him later. I was counting my money in my mind, but my fingers froze to the computer.

Al looked at me with loving eyes. I felt a little guilty, but I went for it anyway. I wrote a 300 word humorous piece and hit send to both publications. They might be carrying stories about Sweet Al soon.

I know there is a bone of contention buried somewhere around here, I need a shovel. I’m digging until I hit Pay Dirt. I might be asking advice from a marriage counselor soon, but for now, I am going for it.

The Final Brushstroke! Digging up trouble can make for a great story, but not necessarily good for a great marriage.