It's been five days since my last confession, I mean, post. I've neglected my daily painting while continuing to work on my memoir about my childhood in Central Florida. It is an illustrated memoir, inspired by artist Diana Gessler. Above I am singing, "Peg O' My Heart" in my dad's restaurant, and below, when I was a bit older, floating in Lake Marie, ignoring (and being ignored by) alligators.
I haven't forgotten my list of biggest gripes and irritants. Here is my No. 11:
People who move here to Florida then complain that the food was better in New York/New Jersey.
How can that be? Half the restaurants here are owned by people from New York/New Jersey.