Penny Kay

A little something I wrote a few years ago. Photo credit unknown.

@maximumpain333 No wonder I love this movie!!!! 🍿 Must bring it out and watch with current man. He’s doing really well considering all he has overcome in this lifetime 🤗💫

“I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.” ~ Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love ✨🙌🏽💫

Will always share this whenever it comes up.

@TitanKrious Exactly! 💕💋💫

🖤🌼🏵️🌼🖤

I love cows! My dad had a 4-H cow in the 50’s. Her name was Penny 😅 He did not remember that. I want a pet cow some day 🤗

It’s happening! They are prepared. Crushed like a Diamond and formed with irritation over and over to become a pearl. You will know them, you will feel them, you will see their hearts.

So true!!!! Took long enough, but I have arrived! 🤗💫👑💖

We're in a fish bowl

I figured it out!!! Honest I did! Not the paneled room!! 😳😩😅

This is one of the most famous paintings in America, and most people have no idea what they are actually looking at... The painting is Christina's World, made by Andrew Wyeth in 1948, and the woman was real: her name was Anna Christina Olson, Wyeth's neighbour in Cushing, Maine. Since childhood a degenerative condition had slowly taken the strength from her legs, until walking was no longer possible. She refused a wheelchair, and for her entire adult life she chose to drag herself across the ground with her arms instead, going wherever she wanted to go under her own power. Wyeth saw her one afternoon from an upstairs window, alone in that vast field, crawling slowly toward the house on the hill. He said the painting was an attempt to do justice to her extraordinary conquest of a life which most people would consider hopeless. Her world, he said, was limited physically but by no means spiritually. That is what turns this painting from a portrait of frailty into one of the most triumphant images ever made... Look at it long enough and it stops being about what her body took from her, and becomes about what she would not stop doing anyway. The field is enormous and she is small and the house is far away, and still she goes, because the alternative, to be carried, to give up, to let the distance win, was something she simply would not accept. There is one more thing: Christina loved this painting. Pink was her favorite color, and Wyeth had placed her exactly where she most wanted to be, out in the open, in her own field, under her own sky. Late in her life, when she could no longer even crawl out to that field, she said something that holds the whole meaning of art inside it: "Andy put me where he knew I wanted to be. Now that I can’t be there anymore, all I do is think of that picture, and I’m there."

My beautiful Misha. She has helped me through some very tough transitions. So in love with this soul. 💕🥹

That was the beginning.

Good morning beautiful souls. 💋💕

Again???? How about always 😅💕

@LesProctor Beautiful companion and friend 🤗🥹💖

Sophia 💞🐶🐾

How hot is it? 🥵 "Everyone in McKinney is dead". 😂 Weatherman's quick adlib seeing the mistake on the map.

My grandmother spent forty-three years running a small flower shop before arthritis forced her hands into permanent stillness, unable to arrange even a simple bouquet anymore. Last spring I visited to find her sitting near the window, staring at her garden like she was grieving something already gone. Her: I can't arrange flowers anymore. Me: I know, Grandma. Her: Forty-three years of this shop, and now I can't even hold the scissors. Me: Your hands earned their rest. Her: Rest feels like losing something important. Me: What did the flowers mean to you, really? Her: They meant I understood something without needing words. Me: What do you mean? Her: Every flower says something different. I spoke that language fluently. Me: You could teach me the language instead. Her: You want to learn flower arranging? Me: If you're willing to teach me. Her: My hands can guide, even if they can't hold anymore. Me: Then guide me. I'll be the hands. Her: Start with the roses. They need trimming at an angle. Me: Like this? Her: Close. A little steeper. Me: I'm not as good at this as you were. Her: You will be, eventually. Given enough practice. Me: Why does that matter so much to you? Her: Because someone needs to keep speaking the language after I'm gone. We spent that entire afternoon with her guiding my clumsy hands through arrangements she'd perfected over four decades, patience replacing precision for the very first time. By evening, I'd created something almost beautiful, entirely because she refused to let the language die quietly. Some skills aren't lost when hands grow tired. They simply wait for someone else to keep holding them.

@catturd2 Look at that beautiful face! That beautiful soul!!!! 🤗💖 Thank you for loving Pedro

Over a decade ago, I looked outside my window, and I thought there was some weird animal outside beside my house. He was so starving his ribs were showing, had no fur, and about 500 ticks on him. I don’t know how old Pedro is now my guess is 15 to 17 years old. He walks slow and his back legs shake. I know his days are numbered, but I’ve loved him and tried to give him the most amazing life. Every day when I wake up, I pray that he’s still with me. He’s the best dog I’ve ever had. And I love him more than I can say. He’s a gift from God.