This is pretty tough isn’t it?  A shout out to all of those old friends may you be safe and healthy.  I know some who struggle, even without Covid-19.  You are heroic.  You have, amidst your struggle, given so much.  I am lucky to have a relationship with you.

I know that there are many here pounding away on your keyboards, getting it all out, putting it all in.  So much bravery.  So much stamina.  So many prayers.  Sharing love & hugs.

I am deeply moved by the tremendous good being spread around the world today and shared – so often coming from strangers.



Spring is here. Oh my, I just looked to insert a photo. Et quelle surprise, all of the photos that I ever put into this blog are still here – though lost to me thru faulty back ups on my appliances. What a treat!


Be wise like the raven.


Experience and feel the beauty all around you.


Be blessed by the warmth of the sun. Be safe & be well. Care for one another.

Love, Liz

Jackie . . .

Jackie, you were so loved!  We miss you.  We know that you are with Patty running and jumping over clouds, playing endlessly in doggie heaven.


I remember as if it were yesterday, picking you up from The Humane Society in 2007.  We were told that you had been returned twice.  We were told you were 6 years old.  You were a large dog and that would have made you 18 years old when you died.  Not possible.


For many years you had a great back yard.  We also took you and your sister out to a wonderful grouping of clean vacant lots and tossed a frisbee.  You guys had a blast.  We took you there instead of Forest Park because we would have gotten a ticket and been told to leave the park.


Boy-Boy misses you.  And Poppy really misses you.  I miss you too old boy.  But we will all be together someday.

Two Questions:

I have two questions for any and everyone who reads this post. I guess in reality I am looking for some ideas. The first question follows a difficult situation of just flailing around. I am just flailing around. The second question is a technical question, which results from something happening to me repetitively and annoyingly.

Question One:

Why am I creatively stuck? I have always been a creative person, very creative. However, I am currently stuck and have I been so for quite some time. I do not know what I wish to do. My husband is very supportive of me finding my creative outlet. I have an art space set up – within an excellent light space in our living room. I have water paints, acrylics, inks, pastels and other media from which to create. I have paper, a box easel (graciously given to me for Christmas by my daughter), how to books – everything that one might need to proceed except for inspiration.

For years, many of you knew that I wrote poetry. When I stopped, it was terrible losing my weekly connections to people with whom I had become “friends through writing.” I tried to write again and again but it just never panned out. I finally realized that I was clinically depressed and I did something about it. However, creativity has still not returned to me.

I have gone thru the good practice of forgiving those whom I needed to forgive, so as to move forward. But there is still no motivation nor inspiration. I guess that this is like writers block. So, I know that there are tricks to the trade so to speak, exercises to move one forward.

So, if anyone out there has any tricks or ideas that might nudge me forward into creativity, that would be great. And thank you ahead of time.

Question Two:

Why do the comments that I leave upon people’s blogs disappear, without fail, all of the time? There is usually a choice of commenting via my Google Account, URL and anonymously. No matter what I choose, the moment that I post a comment it disappears, forever. And, this is not a case of “comment will be visible once OK’d by the blog owner.”

Any ideas? I would so appreciate anything you might have to say. Thank you.



At one time I had the wonderful habit of writing haiku for NaHaiWriMo, one per day on Facebook. I have not been writing, in great part as fallout to my move. Something tells me that I nee to begin somewhere. And this is August first, really? That is hard to believe. And I might add that having abandoned the habit of haiku, well, it does not come easily, not at all.

early morning dew
limitless source for earths
smallest ones

Christmas Morning

there were only
two places,
first and last
it didn’t
matter now.

it was
Eve and time
for “The Night
Before Christmas.”

I was
so excited.
I was so very
happy but anxious.
Late that night
I became ill.

didn’t mind
a whit. I looked
Under the tree,
there they were.

Not just
a new pair of
skis but a
new pair of special
skis for me.
I was ten.

I went back
and I was sick
I threw up
my dinner, I
was so excited.

A new pair
of Kastle Skis
the best skis
Was there a
Santa Claus? No,
but it felt like it.

My dream
had come true.
When I raced
now maybe my
skis would
win for me.

I felt
so proud that
day. I felt
loved, it was
a great
day for me.

Love …

This is shared with Poets United for their Mid Week Motif for which I have never written. I guess that I must think that it is time to mix it up a bit. That Motif is love. Love in fourteen lines.

I have been
in love
my man is
no not god like
I have been
lucky in love
for he has
all mine.

I realize that this is a poem of exceptional silliness. But love is not silly. It is something hard to come by. It is often something that comes only after significant personal change. The first time that I walked into love I was a very youthful nineteen. That rather dreadful experience lasted seven long years. I was sensible enough to know that if I wished for the real thing to grace my life I had a lot of changing to do. It took me five years, perhaps because I did it on my own with God’s help, but I did it. Today I have been married (wait, I must now count it) thirty two years. I am very lucky, I married my best friend of five years and we are still best friends. So a silly poem for a not so silly love.

Raven Realized

Big Boy

Yes, I did. I realized that I have made some really special friends here. Actually I realized this as I was commenting upon a poem (a great poem) of Claudia’s. I also realized that if I get busy and do not have time to write, but only read, some may worry about me. Thus it would not be fair to just kind of disappear into the sunset, read when I have the time and not write without saying something. So, this week I am preparing for someone to come back and look at the house a second time and perhaps buy it. If not, I won’t be terribly busy next week. But, if they wish to buy the house and if we wish to sell, well, then I shall be really, ready to buy. Well, you get my drift. I am 67, D is 60, we have 3 floors and now wish to live on one floor. We weren’t going to do this right away, but the opportunity presented itself. I believe that we have a house that will be hard to sell (no garage and no place to build one). We are old New Yorkers, so this never bothered us. But this is St Louis and it will bother others! So, my good friends, I am just fine, as I hope that you each are! I might visit but I shan’t write!