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I woke up to this today:

I would have rather woken up to this:

This was the view from my room in St. Croix looking out onto the beach.   I love how there are always bent trees in the Caribbean.  I miss the warm weather and the beach.    Especially when today’s wardrobe included a fleece pullover, coat, scarf, gloves and hat.  Brrrrr!

Jim recently changed my tag on his blogroll.  It used to just say Carol King.  Now it says Carol King- artist, humorist, complainer.

Complainer indeed.  I prefer to think of it as social commentary.

But “complainer” works.

This is what I am going to comment (complain) about today.  The price of kids T-shirts in these small stores in Park Slope.  I wanted a size 4T shirt for a friend’s kid.  I thought I might get a nice little “Brooklyn” t-shirt.    I found one.  It was $24.00.  SERIOUSLY.  For a t-shirt that the kid will grow out of in a few months????  And end up in a stoop sale selling for 50 cents or a dollar.  A size 4T shirt is about 6″ across.  I’ve seen men’s handkerchiefs bigger than that.

I indignantly marched myself a few more blocks down the avenue to the next kid’s store only to discover that in this store the price of a kid’s t-shirt was $32.00 AND the collar was frayed.   On purpose.  WHAT?  I’m now ready to buy a white t-shirt and write on it with a Sharpie.  Are these people insane?  Who are their customers?  The stars that NAME their kids Brooklyn and Bronx?   Cause it can’t be the people LIVING in Brooklyn and The Bronx.

Only in NYC can people making $180,000 a year be considered middle income.

Charlie’s wife Liz told me she wanted to have a nice old fashioned Christmas and have everyone give a home-made gift.  Liz channels Martha Stewart and can make any dinner party elegant and wonderful.   Her friend to whom she made this suggestion countered with “how about an ‘As Seen On TV’ Christmas?”  Liz was outraged.  Charlie and I didn’t think it was a bad idea.   This did not go over well with Liz.

Ah, the holiday season is upon us and everyone is in a good mood.

Ho Ho Ho

I’m posting today even though I really have nothing to say.

Not that that’s ever stopped me before.   I remember one time in high school at “Our Lady of the Cigarette Smoking, Plaid Uniform Wearing, Know-it-all Teenagers” we we given a science project to do.  I paired up with Mary Ellen.  She did the whole project.   The day of the Science Fair, lucky me, Sister Mary Don’t Wear Patent Leather Shoes ‘Cause Boys Will Be Able To Look Up Your Skirt In The Reflection came over to review our project just when Mary Ellen had stepped away.  I started yapping until FINALLY Mary Ellen came back.  She  looked at me and said  “empty barrels make the most noise.”   I never forgot that.  Which is surprising since this occurred in the 70’s and I don’t remember much from the 70’s.   So that’s today’s post.  An empty barrel.

I now TRY to keep my mouth shut and listen.   I sometimes think that we are only given a certain amount of words in a lifetime.  So I try to use them carefully.  Most times I fail.

You know what happened to me, but for those of you who can’t stand the suspense, I’m pleased to report that Mary Ellen got pregnant in junior year by a transvestite, dropped out of  high school and had a son she named Cannabis.

I loved the 70’s!

The above painting was another one done on the beach in St. Croix.

And that’s all I’m gonna say.


I’m still working on the beach.  And wishing I was there.  Why do they keep changing wordpress?   As soon as I get used to it, they change it.  I’m stuck on the rocks.  I have too much work, too much holiday shopping to do and not enough time.


May I be so bold as to consider that I am working on the third of a series, like my blog-o-sphere friend Bill when he did three paintings of leaves?  I am doing a “season series”.  I did the snowy trees, then autum leaves and now that it’s cold and dark and rainy in NYC I started working on a beach scene from St. Croix where my friend Bonnie lives.

I like the beach.   My sister-in-law lives just a few houses off the beach in Rockaway Park, Queens.  I love when we are all invited down for a beach day.  Living on the beach, they know how to do it right.  There’s chairs and umbrellas and food and drink.  We can stay all day into the early evening and as the sun goes down and the day trippers go home we sit and relax and watch the waves break over the sand and the scary seagulls fly a little too close to me.   And since she lives so close, when we leave we just walk up to the boardwalk, down a few houses and we can shower and clean up in no time.  (And there’s usually a BBQ that follows – YUM!)

I also like the beach in the Caribbean.   With the beautiful clear blue water, white sand, and palm trees I can almost relax.   Maybe I should go more often.   Practice makes perfect.

This painting still has the frisket, or masking fluid on it.  The rocks on the side of the the scene need more work and when I finally take the frisket off I hope that it will look like a wave crashing over the rock.    If not then I guess I better purchase a ticket to St. Croix and do more research.   Maybe even a plein air painting.

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