Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Baaadd Sheep

There have been a lot of black sheep in the Everett family. We've had horse traders and bootleggers and other ancestors of questionable means. I fit right in with the group. It is nice to know that those that came before you weren't all high grade.

My hopes to be noticed for good, and not evil, were first spoiled by my oldest sisters. They were perfect. Marsha, Marsha, Marsha. Both were homecoming QUEENS, not just in the court like I was. I felt no pressure to carry on that family tradition. I know I was the first girl grounded in my family, and it was for a month. It happened my freshman year of college. I had bad skin, was chubby and my grades were dubious. All of my teachers would look at me, shake their heads and say "And you're Amy's sister?" Tall, thin gorgeous Amy. Don't forget Molly, whose photo on the front page of the local paper in a white bikini tied up our phone line for months.

My younger sister was every one's favorite. She always got the pink hairbrush sets, while I got boy blue. She was the only blond in the family. She would bite me and I would be the one sent to bed without supper. Then the youngest came along. I was 15, she was a baby, cute and dimpled. To this day the girl has ivory skin, black eyes and that damn dimple. I couldn't win for losing.

I do love them all, even though Amy is the favored one, Abby is still cute and blond, Molly is the most fun, and Megan outshines us all. At least I am the one who fits in most with the family tree.

This is called Baaaad Sheep. I actually giggled painting this. Two of the sheep just look very, very BAAAAD. It is 20 x 16, and is listed for sale on

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Charleston Morning

I am in the mood for a good Pat Conroy novel. Maybe I will make some shrimp and cheese grits tonight and start his latest one. I am finally wrapping up "Loving Frank" which is interesting. This weekend I am treating myself to the last book in the "Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" series. My sister sent me a bootleg copy in English as it isn't due out here until spring. It is huge and must weigh 20 lbs. It is a real treat for me and I am going to get some good coffee to go with it. My husband has ditched reality TV and is now consumed with spy books, which is a good thing. He no longer wants me to sit and watch idiots with him. Now I just watch CNN and see them in Washington.
This painting will be offered at the St. Pius High School silent auction.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Thankful for a home....

These days everyone with a roof over their heads should be thankful. I am, really and so appreciate my home. I always have loved houses and especially quirky and unusual ones. My grandmother owned an old Victorian, high on a hill, with a huge wrap around porch where she held bridge club. We are all still trying to accept that it sold and that other children are running around that porch now.

My husband & I are discussing our retirement and our next home. He talks about the southeast to be near the kids. I hopefully show him magazine articles on Italy and Napa and Provance. He talks about high rise condos in Buckhead. We don't even know where the kids will be except with us. I just don't want all of the stuff any more. I am all for selling our worthless knick knacks and storing the china and finding a zen filled contemporary with a view, just somewhere out of the south. Someplace where there are eccentrics and artists, where bikes are the means of travel, where there is an independently owned coffee shop and the closest strip mall is an hour away. We can drag the kids with us, there will be less knick knacks for them to break.

This painting is going to my hometown of Zanesville, Ohio and the proceeds have gone to the Red Cross, hopefully helping give someone else shelter.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Time to thaw

It's just too damn cold.

I hope this painting takes you to a warmer spot. I don't think I have finished it. You may see it again ,later.

Even with zero degree wind chills my children are on the trampoline, ignoring frostbite in their extremities. Here in the South you have to make your opportunities for snow angels and there is just enough dusting on the tramp for an imprint. The 5 year old found enough to make a snowball to throw at his sister. Last night at dark the large child of 50 years was out on the sled with them, trying to get some speed on frosted grass. They had plenty of runs and then were ready for hot chocolate and bed. The large child fell asleep before the early news was over.

This painting is 20 x 24. oil on canvas. I'll think of something cute to name it after more coffee. It is posted on Etsy.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Time to hit the road....

I am ready for a new adventure. Maybe it is the new year, new beginning thing but I really need to change my environment. My friends are marrying off children, choosing their grandparent names and picking out their last hurrah homes. I am dealing with preschools. (My name by the way will be Chinky, chosen by my daughter). I am, though, exploring my old lady look. My sister believes long peasant skirts, moon dangle earrings and colorful shawls would be a good thing for me, but I think she is just remembering the only artist we ever knew growing up, who was rarely sober. It could work. I like the idea of driving an old truck, preferably one color, with floorboards not rusted out, and no room for car seats. Boots and jeans and my nieces's gorgeous jewelry designs. And this yellow house.
This painting is 16 x 16 and is now on sale at and on Etsy at Jenny Schultz Designs.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Driving without a license...

I just knew when I turned 16 that I would wake up and see a new red convertible mustang sitting in the driveway with a big bow on top. Dad handed me keys all right-to the old Ford tractor sitting by the barn. That was how I was to learn to drive. I was mortified. The fact that the entire country was in a deep recession and my father was a farmer with 7 children had not entered at all into my thinking. Eventually I decided that driving in circles around our tiny white house beat sitting in my parent's living room, watching Loveboat with them. Round and round I went on my big white, rusty ride. My dad decided I was road ready and then gave me my big surprise. It was a pick up that he had welded together from two unfortunate trucks-the front end was green and the back was red. The front cab had a hole rusted through the floorboards the size of a basketball. You just planted your feet on either side while riding shotgun. I glanced longingly at my old tractor, sitting there. I knew it well. I knew how it could take a curve. I had a cushion on the metal seat. Then I realized my ticket out of there would have to go faster than 5 miles an hour. I grabbed the keys to the truck and ran.