Thankful Thursday (Auction Update Q & A)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Sooo …

The top bid for the painting so far is $100 in the form of gift cards and the painting to be donated to any person or institute we choose. Stop laughing  😉 Hey people can use gift cards especially to places like Wal Mart and Home Depot, so I am thankful for the offer.

There have been a few questions and rightfully so. This one I will answer here:

Q: “Are you trying to raise money for yourself?”

A: No.

A month ago I posted another Thankful Thursday, thankful our little fishing shack had been spared with minimal damage, so no, the proceeds are not for our benefit.

Last week I posted photos of [just some] of the devastation we witnessed mostly in Rockport, a community still struggling. Our little place is essentially a second home; the people I want to help lost their only home!

I realize many people along the entire Gulf Coast of the USA need assistance. I also see the tragedy in Mexico, Puerto Rico and the other islands affected but Rockport doesn’t seem to be getting much attention or government aid so that community is where my heart is focused at the moment.

Another question I will answer here:

Q: “Why don’t you just donate your own money?”

A: I have. And I have delivered a few care packages. The problem is I have bills and a budget and printing counterfeit money is against the law. :/

A sincere thank you to the ones bidding, liking and sharing this post.

Bless the ones pouring their own money, blood, sweat and tears into helping their fellowman.

Maybe some of you would like to help Rockport-Fulton aka Rockport directly. That would be awesome!

The bidding ends tomorrow, September 29th at 5 PM.

Frame is a digital addition and not part of the portrait.

Wordless Wednesday (Silent Auction – Art for a Cause)

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Texas Flood original 11×14 acrylic on canvas. This is a silent auction. Bidding ends Friday at 5pm September 29th. Photo of painting displayed in natural light. Proceeds will be used for persons affected by recent hurricane(s) Send bids and questions to jannahill@rocketmail.com

 

 

Original post edited. The lighting gave impression of yellow hues.

Tuesday’s Tell All (Clothes are So Overrated)

/ Janna Hill / 3 Comments

 

I do not love shopping but my awesome daughter is taking me [us] on a cruise this fall so… I shopped. I do love bargains so the experience was almost enjoyable.

I don’t like trying on clothes either so I grabbed a few things off the rack and hurried home. The husband thought it would be wise to make sure the clothes fit before we set sail. He’s practical like that.

So the amateur model show began…

Yay! It fits well enough and isn’t this a cute little hat?

 

 

 

 

 

Double yay! Another excellent guess on size err-um.

 

 

 

 

 

By the third change the excitement was waning and so was my patience.

“Have you considered some makeup and  accessories?” the husband smirked.

“Have you considered kissing my backside?” I replied through a stress-clenched jaw.

“How about something with a little more color? Maybe some shoes and a pedicure for those garden toes?” he laughed.

Strange, this man can’t recall a conversation from last night but anything over two years ago is clear as a bell.

 

“Lord have mercy sweet baby Jesus!” I grumbled.

“What’s wrong ?”

“I look like a red waffle cone topped with peach ice-cream and you’ve got my feet at war with one another! ”

 

 

 

 

 

“Calm down old woman you look good to me.” (That is his favorite go-to line.)

After I changed back into my ‘don’t give a poo’ daily wear and relaxed I asked the husband if he had been shopping – if he had planned his wardrobe.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He says, “It’s a cruise — cruises are for relaxing.”

“You’re right dear.” Sigh. “Clothes are so overrated. I’ll pack a swim suit and pajamas.”

Summer Adieu

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Summer Adieu

It’s out of the flip-flops, and back in the Reeboks and long pants dug out of the dust

So long to the tank tops, bikinis and cut offs and lawn chairs left lying to rust

 

Adieu to the sand dune, the pelican and plain loon

My loves, we’ll see you `fore long

Leaves drop as trees swoon, long past the crop moon

With the scent of a sweet autumn song

 

Let’s all take a big swill to ward off the night chill

Winter’s a season away

Crank up the camp fire; avoid the ole quagmire

With children perched high on the hay

Poem from Getting Me Back

More about the Autumn Equinox at National Geographic

From Port Lavaca to Rockport-Fulton & Back

/ Janna Hill / 5 Comments

Four weeks into the aftermath of Hateful Harvey – – the hurricane from hell.

If you have ever visited/lived in the Texas Coastal Bend you know how charming it was… how charming it will be again!

Yes, Harvey wreaked havoc, destroyed homes, businesses and even lives but he did not break the spirit!

Where did the Port Alto beach go?
Where did the Port Alto beach go?
Severe shorline erosion Indianola
Severe shorline erosion Indianola
A few things out of place Magnolia Beach
A few things out of place Magnolia Beach
Back to shrimping
Back to shrimping
Going west on hwy 35
Going west on hwy 35
The traffic lights are working
The traffic lights are working
Entering Rockport-Fulton area
Entering Rockport-Fulton area
Backside Fulton Mansion
Backside Fulton Mansion
Historic Fulton Mansion faired well -- the trees, not so much
Historic Fulton Mansion faired well — the trees, not so much
Texas Throne pink port-o-potty
Texas Throne pink port-o-potty
Beach Road cleared Aransas Bay
Beach Road cleared Aransas Bay
Once beautiful live oaks lined a charming street
Once beautiful live oaks lined a charming street
Devastion. Mailboxes still standing
Devastion. Mailboxes still standing
The once shade dappled lane to Goose Island State Park (home of the ancient Live Oak)
The once shade dappled lane to Goose Island State Park (home of the ancient Live Oak)

harvey landfall august 25 017
There was so much more to photograph. There were weary folks still digging through the ruble, swatting at mosquitoes and pausing to cry. The locals and volunteers shared kinship and friendship and displayed such gratitude for the simplistic things; basic items like trash bags, bug spray, and gloves – things we tend to take for granted on an average day.

Humbling.

Sorry, I did not have the heart to pick up a camera in those seconds of pained expressions amidst devastation – the ones that make for cover worthy photos. I simply lived in the moment and tried not to infringe upon their privacy or their grief.

(HaPpY BirThDaY Katie Bug)

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September Gale

Whistling, blowing

Pushing trees

Pressure, growing

Sweet scent breeze

 

Windows rattle

Base boards creak

Rumbling thunder

Lightening streak

 

Panting breath

Heavy sigh –

Oh it’s just Katie

Running by

 

For my granddaughter

From Getting Me Back (A Poetic Memoir)

Not-So Wordless Wednesday (That was Many Moons Ago)

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The light in the window was just bright enough to make the shadows seem to dance across the ceiling. Mary stared out at the large oaks waving to the hanging clouds; their long arms outstretched to the heavens. A full moon was looming and she could not sleep…

Excerpt from  Behind the Rage (Clan Destiny, #2)

The Working Man (A Labor of Love)

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Happy Labor Day to the muscles, masses, heartbeats, sweat and backbones that make America great.

With all the troubles and tension felt in today’s USA y’all deserve to relax and be recognized.

However I must say  as tough as it sometimes seems I believe this country has certainly seen worse. Our predecessors and ancestors would probably attest to that. As a matter of fact The Sharecropper’s Son, though written as fiction was based on such history.

As many of you already know The Sharecropper’s Son was inspired by a photograph (and a few stories) of my husband’s late grandfather who was indeed a sharecropper in Navarro County, Texas. That is him on the cover dressed in his “Sunday best”.  My work is not always as grueling or strenuous as that of the ‘blue collar’ man but it is  a labor of love nonetheless . If you haven’t read The Sharecropper’s Son yet, today is a good day to start.

All eyes were on Wall Street, but truth be told, the market crash paled in comparison to the Navarro County drought.

Between the stock market crash, a rich man’s greed and the Navarro County drought an indentured slave is left with few choices. Jamison Baines Weir is born the son of a sharecropper where hard times and sorrow are a way of life. It is a way of life Jamie never questions until famine and malice force him to leave the dying farm and follow a path that leads to murder and mystery.