Riches I hold in light esteem,
And Love I laugh to scorn;
And lust of fame was but a dream
That vanished with the morn:
And if I pray, the only prayer
That moves my lips for me
Is, "leave the heart that now I bear,
And give me liberty!"
Yes, as my swift days near their goal,
'Tis all that I implore;
Through life and death a chainless soul,
With courage to endure.
Emily Bronte


Zentangle Book Page

Linda4ATC is hosting a Zentangle Book Page swap over at ATCsforALL. Being part of this group we each received 7 pages to zentangle. My first page is going out to Robin, she is such a delightful person her art is so whimsy and special. I had no problem deciding what I wanted to zentangle for her I immediately got to work here is what I came up with.

Mushroom Zentangle


Artist Trading Cards can be very addicting. I have been making these cards now for over 2 years now. It always amazes me about these cards. I think the reason I love making them they are something that I can finish within a reasonable time. You never know with what you may trade for either. I have learned to be open minded and trade with anyone each card is unique in its own way. And, I'm delighted that each Artist is different some are more advance than others but heck we all can' t be the same now can we. Here is a card I did for the

"Lets Get Stitching2" Swap
over at



I have been getting this little magazine in the mail from Hope International it has the nicest little articles in it. I just have to share this one with you.

On the outskirts of a small town, there was a big, old pecan tree just inside the cemetery fence. One day, two boys filled up a bucketful of nuts and sat down by the tree, out of sight, and began dividing the nuts. "One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me," said one boy. Several dropped and rolled down toward the fence.
Another boy came riding along the road on his bicycle. As he passed, he thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery. He slowed down to investigate. Sure enough, he heard, "one for you, one for me. One for you, one for me." He just knew what it was. He jumped back on his bike and rode off. Just around the bend he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along.

"Come here quick," said the boy, "you won't believe what I heard! Satan and the Lord are down at the cemetery dividing up the souls." The man said, "Beat it kid, can't you see it's hard for me to walk." When the boy insisted though, the man hobbled slowly to the cemetery. Standing by the fence they heard, "One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me." the old man whispered, "boy, you've been tellin' me the truth. Let's see if we can see the Lord.
Shaking with fear, they peered through the fence, yet were still unable to see anything. The old man and the boy gripped the wrought iron bars of the fence tighter and tighter as they tried to get a glimpse of the Lord. At last they heard, "one for you, one for me. That's all. Now let's go get those nuts by the fence and we'll be done."

They say the old man made it back to town a full 5 minutes ahead of the kid on the bike.
submitted by Diana Olson
Hope International Magazine
Well that just tell ya, you can't always believe what you think you see or hear.
Gotta get the facts first!


D is for Donuts

Doesn't this make you hungry?
D is for Donuts it sure makes me hungry. The Doc says I have Diabetes to be exact I have high blood sugar meaning I got to cut back on food that is high in starch n sugar. Poor Doc he is trying to get me to take that Diabetes pill I'm not going for it. ..giggle.. I have brought my sugar level down a whole lot through diet and exercise. Still have more to come down, but, for now I'm not considering that pill.



Still sits the school-house by the road,
A ragged beggar sunning;
Around it still the sumachs grow,
And blackberry-vines are running.
Within, the master's desk is seen,
Deep scarred by raps official;
The warping floor, the battered seats,
The jack-knife's cared initial;
The charcoal frescoes on its wall;
Its door's worn sill, betraying
The feet that, creeping slow to school,
Went storming out to playing!
Long years ago a winter sun
Shone over it at setting;
Lit up its western window-panes,
And low eaves' icy fretting.
It touched the tangled golden curls,
And brown eyes full of grieving,
Of one who still her steps delay
When all the school were leaving.
For near her stood the little boy
Her childish favor singled;
His cap pulled low upon a face
Where pride and shame were mingled.
Pushing with restless feet the snow
To right and left, he lingered;
As restlessly her tiny hands
The blue-checked apron fingered.
He saw her lift her eyes; he felt
The soft hand's light caressing,
And heard the tremble of her voice,
As if a fault confessing.
"I'm sorry that I spelt the word:
I hate to go above you,
Because,"-the brown eyes lower fell.-
"Because, you see, I love you!"
Still memory to a gray-haired man
That sweet child-face is showing.
Dear girl! the grasses on her grave
Have forty years been growing!
He lives to learn, in life's hard school,
How few who pass above him
Lament their triumph and his loss,
Like her,-because they love him.
John Greenleaf Whittier