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Monday, May 30, 2011


Something happened and I am missing some module [know the name of it but retreiving it is another thing of which I know nothing about.]. Can't insert photos or make a comment.
I will get this figured out.
Thanks for being there for me!
Sherry Hill

* If I don't get it figured out, I'm asking for assistance.

Thursday, May 26, 2011



When I was in the second grade I had a thought about the wall map of the United States that my teacher had showed us all and I kept that thought to myself all this time. Reason? Well, in grade school there was no way I was going to ask about my thought and look ridiculous in front of the entire class. I’m so glad I didn’t for when I was in the fourth grade, I realized how dumb my thought was but it made perfect sense to me when I was six and in the second grade.

I actually thought that each state that had a different color on the wall map would be that color if you went to that state. Honest I did! And so in my thinking then, if I had gone to Texas it would be pink—all of the land would be pink! And as for the other states that had different colors, same thing: Vermont would be blue all over and on and on.

If you ever had this thought as a kid and kept it to yourself, welcome to my world. One good thing is that at least now I can admit it! Feels so good to disclose that secret thought and get rid of it. No doubt there are lots of kids out there who are thinking the same as I did at that age; if they are, I hope they don’t admit it. Some questions are just better if they are not asked for eventually, the answer will be as plain as day or make that as in this case, as plain as the color of dirt—everywhere!

Sherry Hill

Sunday, May 22, 2011



We hang onto some things in our lives for many reasons—it belonged to a parent, a relative, a friend, a husband, our children or our grandchildren and we treasure those things. And maybe no one will ever know our reasoning for doing such but rest assured that the keeper does. I had written about this before that we sometimes keep way too much: Most of us are guilty. But some things give us something far beyond tangible.

One of the most special things to me is a yellow flowered lamp shade. It’s old, it’s turned a golden hue, it’s fragile and yet, when I look at it in my bedroom it gives me such a feeling of being cared for and safe.

You’re asking, “What can a lamp shade do but cover a light bulb on a lamp?” And I’d respond that you are probably right but not this specific one—ever. You see, I didn’t meet my dad until I was five: I thought that my step-grandfather was my dad. Even went as far as to call myself Sherry Morgan [Morgan was his last name] and my mother and I lived with my grandparents. Where was my dad prior?

He had been in the army in WWII, enlisted in 1941 and stayed in the army long way after the war was over. My mom met him at a dance at the Greenbrier Hotel here in West Virginia; he had been sent here as at that time it was an army hospital “Ashford General.” Although a sergeant, he was sent to do physical therapy with the wounded soldiers. [My dad was wounded too but his wound was a gunshot that grazed the top of his head; did have a metal plate inserted and had it the rest of his life.] My dad did receive a purple heart. Both of these incidents happened after he left the Greenbrier: He fought in Germany and Normandy.

Not really sure when my parents got married but I do know that my dad had returned to the army. My mom divorced him when I was three.  And then two years later, he came back here and they remarried!

I was oblivious to all of this with the exception of seeing my dad get out of a taxicab in front of my grandparent’s house—I don’t think I had ever seen a more handsome man in my entire little five years. And he had on his full uniform that made me wonder who he was.

“Hi!” he said as he grabbed me up with both arms. “I’m your dad!” All I could do was stare at him in shock and amazement for I already had a dad or so I thought. Two dads? No, I reasoned to myself that no one I knew had two dads but I still didn’t understand a thing. And that was a good thing on my part for my grandparents got furious at my mom for remarrying him because that would mean that I would be taken away from them.

Like a big fog encompassed everything in my life for I couldn’t take it all in—it was too much to try to rationalize. The next thing I knew, I was at my great aunt’s house [Ruthie] on Edgewood Drive. My grandparents weren’t around, my mom wasn’t and neither was my newly-found dad—just Aunt Ruthie, her husband and me.[ I would find out much later on that my parents had gone a small honeymoon somewhere.] Aunt Ruthie loved to spoil me and she sure did those three days. Took me to a movie at the Virginian theater, then to eat at King’s Restaurant and bought me a box of those many different colored Lifesavers and that was the first day!

Came the first night at her house and that scared lost feeling came all over me: It was the first time I ever felt it. Aunt Ruthie had put me in a twin bed in a bedroom next to hers and her husband’s. Tears started flowing from my eyes so much that I couldn’t see and I remember screaming “Aunt Ruthie!” She came running into the room, held me and cradled me. Told me that things would be all right and to look at that yellow flowered lamp shade on the lamp that sat on a table beside me. Seemed like forever that I stared at it and felt her warmth till I finally went to sleep.

There isn’t enough room here to write what transpired over the years; in actuality, I did in my autobiography but that’s another story in itself—a long and unbelievable one.

But after my Aunt Ruthie died, her daughter gave my mom and me tons of things from her house. What did I ask for first? That yellow flowered lamp shade and I got it. And to this day, I have it on replaced lamp and at night, when it’s dark, that lamp is turned on in the bedroom where I sleep. That shade has the power to evoke being cared for, cradled and loved even if it is what it is, for it is far more than that to me—it’s my safety net. And as long as I live, it always will be.

Sherry Hill

Friday, May 20, 2011



Seems as if my whole life, I had the job of trimming shrubs—first with the old-fashioned kind and then the electric ones! Four years ago, I had a horrible experience with the electric kind—so bad that I had to go to the emergency room.

If you’re a woman and reading this, you know how it is when a female gets the urge to do something right then and there—she just does it. After asking and asking, I got no help with anyone to cut the shrubs outside. Armed and dangerous with those electric hedge trimmers I decided to go outside at 6:30 a.m. for the day was going to be hot and I wanted to get the job done.

I started on the side of my house which has two large shrubs: Finished the first one [sort of like cutting hair and shaping it] and then dragged the extension cord down to the second shrub. Feeling good in that I just knew that after I finished this one, I could easily attack the shrubs in the front of my house I started trimming—the job was almost done. Why I did the following, I will never know but I took my left hand and put it on a shrub limb too cut it: Well, I not only cut the limb but ran those hedge trimmers almost all the way through my left middle finger!

Took a minute for it to dawn on me what I had done and that’s when I saw the blood gushing out all over the place. Threw down the hedge trimmers and stood there for a minute in shock. My neighbor down the street had just pulled into his driveway: He looked up at me and said, “Are you all right?” “No!” I screamed. And he went on into his house not offering to even see what was wrong. What a guy!

I ran into the house, attempted to was the blood off but could see a huge cut almost three fourths of the way through my finger. Made a tourniquet out of cold wet paper towels [when you are the mother of two sons, you have to learn hospital 101 really fast in life] and called a cab to take me to the emergency room. Didn’t care how I looked for I just knew that I would have to have stitches.

Arrived at the hospital and thank heavens, there were hardly any people in the emergency waiting room. After going through all the paper work, etc. I was met by a very nice doctor who just shook his head after I told him what had happened and how. On that finger, I should add were two rings. The nurses came in and decided that along with the doctor, that there was no way to take off my rings for the cut on my finger was huge.

And so I got the “liquid stitches” on my finger! If you have never had this [I hadn’t] all I can say is it like hot super glue. My finger was not only killing me but was now on fire. I was released and told to put an antibiotic on it and keep it out of water for several days.

Extremely hard to operate with one hand but you do what you’ve got to do. About three weeks later, I for some unknown reason ,decided to put another ring on that finger –but above the now healing cut. Bad mistake!!! Within days, that ring got embedded into my finger. Couldn’t get it off even though I tried everything from soap to whatever.

My finger was now turning purple: I knew that I had cut off the circulation and I also knew that I would have to go back to the emergency room! I did and guess what? I got the very same doctor again who looked at me and said, “Hedge trimmers again?” I told him no and proceeded to tell him what I had done. He just shook his head and looked at me.

Back in the same room with the very same nurses and that doctor: It was like that movie “Groundhog Day” all over again. The doctor looked at my finger and said, “Well, we will just have to cut off those rings! And we can’t numb your hand or finger due to the swelling and the almost healed cut.”

The nurses left and returned with some tool that looked like a pair of tin snips except it had a twisty metal piece on it. One nurse held my hand while the other used that thing and started cranking to the first ring off by attacking it from the back. Each crank was worse than the first and I screamed to the top of my lungs! Asked for a bowl of ice and that was brought so that I could put my finger in it in between those tortuous cranks. You cannot imagine the pain or the time it took to cut through three rings and get them off: Horrific doesn’t even begin to describe the pain.

I told those nurses that they would have made good “Civil War” nurses. They laughed but I was to the point of tears. A friend came and got me and I left there with three rings cut in half and a huge swollen finger.

And so again , I went through the repetition of not being able to use my left hand for quite a while. Did I ever get those rings back on that finger? What do you think? Months later I had to take them to a jewelry shop and have all three put back together; when I picked them up, I was reluctant to put them back on that finger—but I did with the exception of one.

From that time , I do not touch electric hedge trimmers ever! Yes, they are here in my house but no way am I going through that disaster again. And so instead, I either get someone to do it or hire someone. Electric hedge trimmers can be dangerous things! Stay away from them—they’ll get you!

Sherry Hill

Wednesday, May 18, 2011



Why didn’t I think of this when I wrote the other post? When I taught second grade, I was lucky to have had many student teachers: One wrote a terrific color unit and out of that came this great thing to do with my students. It was so great, that the next year and several years after that, I continued doing this to show primary, secondary and tertiary colors.

If you try this, let me warn you that kids get really excited at first and then by the end—not so much! But it is hands on learning.

Here’s what you need: Many containers of Cool Whip [I kept a lot in the cafeteria’s refrigerator at school for this]

Food coloring ---many little boxes that have all colors

Graham crackers---many boxes [generic works fine!]

Plastic spoons

Plastic plates or bowls [the small ones]

Napkins or paper towels or both

I sat at a big table up front with several containers of cool whip, a box of food coloring and two boxes of graham crackers—and yes, bowls for me to mix and spoons and napkins for the kids. Called a group of children to come up and watch as I mixed red food coloring into some cool whip that had been put into a separate bowl. [You have to use many drops of red coloring or you’ll wind up with pink.]

Then I gave each child a plop of red cool whip on a graham cracker—and they ate it! Takes a while, as you want to only let about five or six children at once come to the table. All I heard was “Can I have a lot of Cool Whip?”

Proceeded onto blue and then yellow. All of the children were liking the eating part well!

The next step was to show them secondary colors. I held up a new bowl of Cool Whip and mixed blue with yellow to get green. And repeated calling children up to the front table so that they could eat the green Cool Whip on graham crackers. By the time I had finished mixing each secondary color into a new bowl of Cool Whip and the children had eaten those, they were not liking eating it at all. This time they had eaten not only green Cool Whip on graham crackers but also orange and purple Cool Whip on them.

Came the final showing of colors: Tertiary. And again, I had to use more new bowls of Cool Whip. I was on the second or third box of food coloring and had opened more boxes of graham crackers by this time!

I mixed the first bowl of Cool Whip with a tertiary color—yellowish-green and called up the first group of students to have their graham crackers laden with Cool Whip. By this time, not many children wanted to eat it much less look at it. [I could fully understand!] The repetition went on until all tertiary colors had been mixed by me and hardly eaten by the children. They were definitely not liking it by now—the eating part that is.

After the lesson of teaching primary, secondary and tertiary colors was finished by using cool whip, food coloring and graham crackers, there wasn’t one child who wanted any leftovers at all—nor did I.

A brave child in my room [there is always one you know!] wanted to know what it would look like to mix all of the leftover colors together. And I let him do it. The color that appeared was puce—that’s the color of an Easter egg that has been dipped into every color: You know, the one that is sort of purplish with black?

Every child in my classroom went “Ew!” I told them that the color name “puce” was a very fitting name for it is similar to another name for throwing up!

After all was cleaned up by my student teacher and me, the children were in a Cool Whip coma of sorts as well as one of graham crackers. Soon afterwards, the dismissal bell rang and did the children scramble to get their things and go home? Of course they did.

The next day was such a successful day in that there was not one single child in my classroom who did not know primary, secondary and tertiary colors! Why? It was literally intrinsic and they never forgot.

If you are a teacher or a parent, this is a great way to introduce and show primary, secondary and tertiary colors. But remember one thing: At first children will want a lot of colored Cool Whip and by the time you finish mixing and distributing more and more, they will want less and less.

I am a firm believer in “learning by doing:” This was a great way to demonstrate and let the children participate. And they learned. And they rebuked at Cool Whip when I happened to bring some into class one day for a different experiment all together—wonder why?

Sherry Hill

*No disrespect to Cool Whip whatsoever: I love it and it was a great teaching tool.

Special thanks to my student teacher at that time who wrote such a great unit on “Color”—Angie Hebb! [She has been teaching quite a while now and is one terrific teacher!]

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The Rainbow

Colors - UPDATED version - song for children

The Spectrum Song - Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color



About the age of three or four, I remember the first time ever seeing lightning bugs and I just stood out in the yard in wonderment. Had no idea what they were at all but the way they shot this way and that with their lights left me in awe. I wasn’t alone for my mother was with me and I remember not wanting to come inside. But ah, I had to—no choice there!

Two years later, I became a constant lightning bug watcher and catcher. Caught them in my hands like most kids did and had no idea what to do with them and so I had to let them go. Wanted to keep them: Didn’t all kids?

By the age of seven I had learned how to catch them at night and put them in a glass jar [yes back then there weren’t any plastic jars] and have my dad poke holes in the metal lid—that way the lightning bugs could breathe. There weren’t many kids around me in this neighborhood for we had moved—there was a girl next door who was about twelve and as mean as snake and a boy who lived sort of beside me the other way. I chose the boy of course!

He and I spent many an evening catching what seemed like hundreds of them and we had jars and jars full of lightning bugs. The best thing was his idea to let them all go at once after he counted to five: It was like tons of sparklers going off to see them shoot out of our jars! It was one of those awesome moments that a kid never forgets—ever.

The next year another move and this time it was in a big neighborhood with tons of kids and tons of lightning bugs to catch. Nirvana! For six years I had such happiness in that place with the joy of friends and lightning bugs.

Teenage years set in and I could have cared less about them and this feeling stayed with me into my adult years---until I became the mother of two sons.

They were taught to catch them the same way that I was only they got to use plastic which was a lot safer [oh those broken jars of the past that left me with cuts and scrapes!] and not only did my sons experience the joy of those shooting star-like bugs but so did I, once again. When my sons grew up and moved away, I tried to quit looking at lightning bugs for it made me sad—sad that not only my childhood had been long gone but also my sons.

Just when you think things will stay status quo sometimes miracles do happen. I became a grandmother and my first grandchild was a boy. He was about two or so and I took him out in my yard to see the lightning bugs: He went haywire running this way and then that way trying to catch them. I laughed when he said, “More over there!” Well, there weren’t but it looked like it. We caught some and put them in a plastic bug keeper—but that didn’t last long for I had to let them go.

The older he got, the more lightning bugs we chased and caught! By this time, he had a little sister and she was in on the chase and they wore me out! But it was such fun! Add another grandson and the three of us became lightning bug catchers and chasers—experts of sort. We no doubt caught hundreds upon hundreds and always let them go –but not till we had a lot to let go at once. [I remembered that boy who had counted to five long ago.]

Now my grandchildren are sixteen, thirteen and eleven and are they into catching lightning bugs? I don’t think so and oh how I wish they were little again so we could relive that wonderful experience.

The other day I saw my first lightning bug of the season and my heart lept up in wonderment just like it did when I was little. Funny that such a little bug with incredible light can evoke such a childhood memory—but it did. And for me, lightning bugs will always be little miracles. Go outside some evening and let yourself go and see if you find any: I’ll bet that little child in you will come out just as it did with me. Wonderment still exists: All you have to do is to look at those lightning bugs.

Sherry Hill

*Published in The Charleston Gazette on Sept. 8, 2013

Monday, May 16, 2011



Two former blog posts have been about primary colors and secondary colors but color doesn’t stop there for this is another color category. And without it, our world would be bland.

To get tertiary colors you mix a primary color with a secondary color.

Here are some examples:

Mixing yellow with green =yellowish green. Think of olive green for that is this tertiary color. And it’s one that I love, wear and have all over my house. I am almost as drawn to it as red—have no idea why but I am, trust me. This is a WARM color! If you were to add more yellow to olive green, you would get lime green. When I was little, lime green was called “chartreuse.” Try that word on someone today and he or she will look at you like you are from Mars!

Mixing blue with green=bluish green. Think of this color as turquoise. What’s not to love about this color? It’s the color of some oceans, the sky at times, some gemstones [turquoise, some topazes] and yes—on a peacock definitely! If there is a jump out color, this is it. A little of this color goes a long way in decorating and decorators take it easy while using it. But I have seen one specific room repeated in several magazines and that room is in turquoise overload and extremely disturbing if not downright JOLTING!

Mixing blue with purple=bluish purple. This is a beautiful color that is a cool color and it is found in nature if one were to look at mountains in the distance or bodies of water. Think of a bunch of grapes that are this color or again, some gemstones. This color works well with reds, blues, yellows and most other colors: It all depends upon one’s taste. The more blue that you mix in, the darker the combination will be. In decorating, this color is used either heavily as on walls or lightly as with objects such as accent pillows, pottery or paintings with this color. If the walls are painted this color, then the furnishings should be complimentary and not be the same color. White looks great with it. Do I wear this color? Yes, sometimes but only with accessories. Is it in my house? Not really but it is in some of my artworks.

Mixing red with purple=reddish purple. Right off the bat, I think of a can of plums and how they look after you open that can—the plums are a reddish purple. And it is a wow of a color and definitely not a SHY color at all. Since red is mixed with purple it takes on a more warm feeling—unlike bluish-purple. Some people have called this color “wine” and yes, if mixed correctly, it could be called that. A lot of flowers in nature are this color, sunsets can have it, bruises on one’s body can definitely be this color and again, a lot of gemstones—the high-end pricey ones. Do I wear this color? Definitely! I love it as well as its cousin, burgundy. Is it in my house? YES! But only in small doses for too much would take on a depressing air and who would want that?

Red with orange=reddish orange. This is a WOW of a color as well and definitely a warm color if ever. Think of fire, some red peppers, paprika, some flowers [hibiscus can be this color,] sunset color—usually is the most vivid in them and a gemstone that is so expensive that only can be afforded to buy the synthetic version. Decorators use this color either sparsely to add some SPICE as with pillow accents or the like or paint some walls this color—but never all walls for that would make the occupant go plain wild. If a couch is this color, then complimentary colors work well with it or neutral colors. Restaurants use this color a lot—think of the plastic trays on which you set your food if you are in a fast food restaurant! No doubt it’s used a lot in places such as this for it is an appetite increaser if ever. Do I have this color in my house? Yes, in small doses. Do I wear it? ABSOLUTELY! I love to wear this color and have lots of clothes and accessories that are “paprika” colored.

Yellow with orange=yellowish orange. Think of the color of persimmons, apricots, some tomatoes, some yellowish peppers, again the color in some sunsets, tiger lilies and trees in the fall. Warm color? Exactly! But again when decorating with this color, a little goes a long way—it is primarily used for accents; however, I have seen couches this color with a white stripe that looks lovely. And chairs this color look well with complimentary colors [green works really well with it] or neutrals and add some PIZAZZ to a room. It’s a knock-out color if ever. Do I have this color in my house? Not much but again I do have it in some artworks or glassware that is visible. Do I wear this color? YES! I mentioned before that I have olive skin and this color works well for me—but not from head to toe.

These are the six tertiary colors. What’s left to come? Well, there will be a post about tints, hues, shades and some surprises! Meanwhile, if you are out and about and in a big hardware store, grab some of those paint samples that are on paper strips [like in the picture above] and test yourself to see if you can find the tertiary colors!

Sherry Hill

*Brown? If you mix red with green, you will get brown. Tertiary?



What’s not to love about these two colors? But you won’t find them on a color wheel at all. If you were to mix all of the primary and secondary colors together, you would get black.

White isn’t on the color wheel either as it is the absence of color.

If you can go online and print out a “color wheel,” try this experiment. Cut out the color wheel and poke a pencil or pen in the middle of it. With the color wheel facing you, spin it around—and you will see white or the absence of color! Double dog dare you to try it.

When used together, these two colors have the wow factor! Think of the timeless usage of black and white tiled floors [yes, I have those also in my foyer, bathroom and the big room off the kitchen]: Black and white tiled floors are classic and elegant. And older houses or apartments have those spectacular black and white tiled patterned floors—what’s not to love about those? Every time I see one of those intricate floors I am wowed.

These two colors are of course, the opposite of each other.

A polar bear, zebra, keyboard, newspapers and a tuxedo are black and white.

Some sayings are “It’s not all black and white”—which means that there are other things underlying or it’s not true.

Another is: “It’s all black and white.” That means that it is the truth and is exposed or that it is plain as day.

In decorating, using black and white together is timeless and gives a wow factor to a room. Think of a wool rug with a zebra pattern mixed in with other colors in a room and you get the picture: Zing! I’ve seen some rooms in magazines, books or online that are all black and white. To me, that is “DISTURBIA!” But again, it all goes back to if you like it, use it; after all, you have to live with it and it’s your choice.

Of late the new decorating trend is to paint walls black or an off-black: I think it is fabulous! There is only one word to describe black walls and that word is “WOW!” If you’re thinking that painting your walls a dark color will make the room look smaller, think again. It doesn’t: It deepens the room. Once I painted my older son’s bedroom a dark navy blue: It was wonderful. When he left and got married, I painted that room white and the entire room looked like it had been swallowed up. It looked as if it actually shrunk. [That room now has olive green walls.]

White walls are pretty and especially if you use all shades of white in that room with touches of color. But to me, white walls are boring—there is no zip. Yes, it is a clean color and is used a lot by people who are afraid of using “color” on their walls. I used to be that way a long while back. But I don’t have one single room in my house that is painted white. None! To me, it’s too sterile looking.

White looks great as house paint on the outside but black, never—at least that’s my take on it. Depressing to me. If your house is painted white, black shutters or a black door adds a lot of that wow factor.

I love these two colors combined in clothing and shoes and the like. Houndstooth in black and white is beautiful: I actually own a coat like that. But those two colors together don’t look good on me as I have olive skin; however, I do sometimes wear them regardless of that fact. Oh and in that olive green bedroom, guess what is predominate in there? Black and white toile: It's on the bed [as a comforter,] the draperies are that toile and so are some pieces of pottery that are in a tall cupboard. But the chest of drawers in that room is red, lamp is a bright yellow and yes, there is also an orange lamp with a white shade.

Love it or hate it, the combination of black and white is timeless and has that ZING that hardly any other two colors can compete with for it’s eye-popping to say the least!

Sherry Hill



The secondary colors are:




Secondary colors are made by mixing two primary colors. Each secondary color is made from the two primary colors closest to it on the color wheel.

If you mix yellow with blue, you get green. Yellow plus red equals orange. And blue mixed with red makes purple. Funny, but I was on a website that stated that green was a primary color: I don’t think so! Am sure that most of you already know about secondary colors but there might be some who are not aware of them being called such.

I am hoping to hear back from a website that I contacted re their control over letting me use a photo of a color wheel: That would make it so much easier for you, the reader to see secondary colors.

Green is a soothing cool color and no wonder: It is the color of nature as found in trees and plants. There are many variations of this color and that would make them tertiary colors [which I will explain in the next blog post.] Again, in decorating almost all rooms have something green in them whether it be a plant, flowers with green leaves or a painting with something green in it or the like. But them some do not if you are looking at a stark white room that has only neutral colors in it—then there would be no green and that would be up to the owner or the decorator or both.

Green is not one of my favorite colors to wear; however, I love other shades of green such as olive green or hunter green. Olive green is not a secondary color but it is one of my favorite colors: You can tell that if you look at the scarf on the top of my blog. So many things are green such as trees, plants, pickles, the go light on a street light, street signs, grass, frogs, peas, green peppers, asparagus, lettuce, watermelons, some apples, green beans and on and on.

And orange—it’s a warm color if ever! It’s the color of fire, an orange, some glorious sunsets and it’s a mixture of red and yellow. Orange is one of those feel good colors and either people love it or hate it—there are no in-betweens. I happen to love orange and wear this color a lot. In just about every room of my house there is something that is orange or a variation of this wild color. My mother’s sister loved it! It was her favorite color and this fact drove my mother wild. But that didn’t let my aunt stop herself from loving it or painting her entire living room orange.

A room that is painted all orange can get on one’s nerves very fast. It sure did affect me when I was at my aunt’s house but I never complained about it to her. I read that if using orange on walls, it would be better to paint one specific wall that color so as not to drive the inhabitants or visitors wild.

Lastly but not mediocre at all is purple! Purple is a majestic color if ever and was worn in biblical times and in medieval times and forwarding onto kings and queens who all wore this magnificent color. It was regarded as a privileged color and only those who were titled or such could wear it. Glad that’s not now. Purple is made up of combining red with blue. It is a cool color but various shades of it can be warm---that’s the next group of colors—tertiary colors. Purple is one of those colors that is again in my estimation, one of those colors that works well with any color.

Again, I have a touch of purple in most of my rooms. You’re probably thinking “Holy cow! Her rooms must be wild!” But they’re not, trust me. Dull? No way-- but not on the weird side. Things that are purple are some of my most favorite things ever: Grapes, lilacs, lavender, violets, some sunsets, irises and some plants. Both of my sons lips used to turn purple when they got out of the pool to which we belonged: They had early morning swim team practice! Felt so sorry for them with those purple lips.To me, purple is a grand color and yes, I love to wear it. I even own four pairs of purple shoes and have numerous articles of clothing this color including a wool coat. And one thing to note is that purple is made up partly of red, my favorite color.

And let’s not forget “the purple heart” that is given out to soldiers who earned this distinguished medal for bravery or being injured during battle or service. My dad received one due to being injured in WWII. Luckily, he survived the injury or I wouldn’t be writing this.

Secondary colors: You have to love them! The world would be extremely dull without these three colors. And wait till you read about the variations of them as well as those of the primary colors—those are the tertiary colors which can only be described as having a wow factor!

Sherry Hill

Sunday, May 15, 2011



Blue is the only other primary color other than yellow and red. The word blue has many meanings in our English language and here are some of them:

Feeling blue: That means you are down and out.

Out of the blue: Means something happens all of sudden and is unexpected.

True blue: You are a loyal friend and person.

But let’s talk about the color blue: It is a cool color while the other two primary colors are warm. Too much blue in a room can leave you feeling cold and distracted.

Blue is all around us for it is the color of the sky: Everyone all over the world already knows that. Bodies of water look blue and make us feel peaceful to look at them—even if when you are in the ocean or in a river, the water really isn’t blue at all. It’s the sun and reflection that makes water appear blue.

If you look at your hands [or maybe your feet] you will see blue veins. Personally, I don’t like to look at mine—ew! Our blood is blue till it hits air and then it turns red. Maybe you have blue eyes: I don’t as mine are dark brown.

A lot of people use this color on bedroom walls for it is said it makes them feel at peace. But it doesn’t affect me that way: It makes me feel cold and unnerved. I had written before that I was drawn to blue and white rooms in decorating magazines—and I am. But if you take time to look at any of these rooms, they also have warm colors such as red, yellow or shades of these two colors in them be it flowers, paintings or objects.

Hospital rooms used to be painted light blue –that is until “the powers that be” discovered that a light green was more soothing to the patient. There again, proof that blue is a cool color and if a person is sick, why put that patient in a room that has been painted blue? That’s like adding insult to injury.

Some things that are blue are obvious: The bodies of water, blue jays, blue bonnet flowers, blueberries, policemen’s uniforms, the blue ribbon, flashing lights on a police car [I learned that well, remember?,] the main color on our United States flag, the color of jewels such as topaz and sapphires and definitely a lot of blue is on a peacock.

If you were to ask males what their favorite color was, I’ll bet you that three fourths of them say, “Blue!” Try it if you don’t believe me. Course maybe that goes back to the old way of using blue for baby boys and pink for baby girls: We all got stuck with that color it seems. But in today’s world, any color goes. I read that men’s locker rooms are painted light blue: No, I’ve never been in one but that seems plausible.

In my lifetime, I have looked at and read hundreds of decorating magazines and books. The real well-known decorators always said that every room should have something blue in it. Why? It pulls things together just as the sky does for us. Just don’t go overboard on this cool color: It will definitely give you the “blues!”

Sherry Hill

*My grandmother and mother both hated blue: Never understood that at all. Neither of them had one blue thing in their houses—ever.

Saturday, May 14, 2011



This word has two different meanings: One is for the color and one is for someone who is a “chicken” and afraid to do things. I’d rather talk about the color. Yellow is a happy color—it’s the color of sunshine, egg yolks, dandelions, yield signs, the slow down color on a street light, butter, a canary, school pencils, forsythia, daffodils, jonquils, a banana, the moon, some painted lines on streets and so many more things.

Like red, yellow is a primary color: There are three of them—red, yellow and blue. When yellow is mixed with other primary colors, you get secondary colors: That’s true of any primary color.

Too much yellow in a person’ surroundings has been proven to drive some to the point of madness; it certainly did affect Van Gogh. Disturbed him major and yet he used it in just about every painting he created, Hitler’s favorite color was yellow: That’s dangerous ground and dangerous to think about. But it is true. Google it and check it out.

Yellow is warm and makes you feel that way if you are in a room that is painted yellow. Sometimes that can be a good thing and sometimes not! As for me, I don’t have any yellow rooms but every single room in my house, including the foyer, has something that is yellow. It’s cheery.

Do I wear yellow? Yes, quite a lot for it is a good color on me. One time while teaching, I decided to wear all yellow: Yellow dress, shoes, pocketbook and yellow jewelry [I’m one of those matchy people or used to be] and thought it looked fine. My students liked it but the acting principal told me I looked like a canary. Hm, that didn’t go over well with me at all. But I cast that aside and went on feeling pretty good that day.

Both my grandmother and mother loved yellow as well and not only wore it but had touches of it in their houses—my mother more so. Neither of them liked red which I had written about in another post—it’s my favorite color. And I got chided more than once by my mother for not only wearing red but for having it in my house and it was also the color of my car one time.

Too much yellow can affect you as I stated before: It can really make you feel warm which might be good if it’s freezing cold outside. But in the summer, yellow takes on more warmth if it’s on the walls.

I love this primary color but not in huge doses: It’s a matter of personal taste as are all colors. Maybe you can make a list of things that are yellow that I didn’t mention: You might be surprised at what you write down.

If some rooms in your house are looking bland, put in something yellow such a pillow or two, some silk yellow tulips or a painting with some yellow in it. It makes things pop! Wearing yellow looks good on just about everyone—just don’t go overboard like I did and resemble a canary! Be cheery—try some yellow!

Sherry Hill

Friday, May 13, 2011



Red is my favorite color—not only do I have four red rooms in my house but I couldn’t begin to list the things I own that are this color. It’s a color of excitement for sure. Wonder why it’s used in restaurants? It evokes that feeling.

Love to look at decorating magazines and am always drawn to blue and white rooms right off the bat! Amazing isn’t it despite my love of red. My kitchen has hunter green walls, painted red chairs, a magohany table and tons of blue and white dishes and other things. But if you were to see it, you would know that despite the blue and white, red would get you from the get go.

Every single room in my house has some red in it. It’s a popout color if ever. Carlton Varney, the well-known interior decorator [who also took over at the Greenbrier Resort after Dorothy Draper died] stated that if you use red in a room, it has to be in seven things. Makes sense to me. And I love his genuius touch to deocrating.

Red is bold. It’s a “look at me!” color. Stop and think about what around your enviornment is red: Stop signs, the red stop light, fire trucks and on and on. Yes, blood is also red: As a mother of two now grown sons, I saw a lot of blood when they were children into their teenage years. Enough to make me glad that I chose teaching as a profession [but saw it there too sometimes when kids got hurt] instead of being a nurse. Red is the color of our heart as well: This color is used more on Valentine's Day and Christmas than any other color.

If you stop and think about red, it really is a neutral color when used on walls or if wearing it. Anything goes with it. Anything.

And one important thing about red is that all car dealers have to have at least one red car on their lot. Why? Because it is an attention getting color that stands out. I will continue to love red, wear it [as well as its cousin, burgandy] and wear my red high heels. David Bowie wrote about that in his song, “Let’s Dance: Put your red shoes on!” That song wouldn’t be the same if he had sung “Put your brown shoes on.” And would a matador use anything but a red cape? I don't think so!

All I can say is long live red! Sure would be a boring world without it and I love this color.

Sherry Hill

Thursday, May 12, 2011



Sad but a true statistic: It is now “Henny Penny” time in our lives. Hopefully, those of you who know who this hen is will know of what I am speaking. But should you not, “Henny Penny” was in a children’s tale and she was always going around telling all of the other farm animals that the sky was going to fall.

Yes, she incited fear in all of the animals to the point that they too believed the sky would fall. And welcome to 2011 where Henny Penny not only incites, she rules. Her guise is that of many so-called newscasters, writers and those who are as guilty as she for there isn’t a day that goes by that someone tries to instill fear in us all.

Bad thing is that a lot of these undercover Henny Pennys can be very believable to those who are guillible to accept what they say for they are the doomsdayers of today. As a young adult, I learned not to believe everything that I heard, saw or read: Stop and think that whomever is speaking, showing or writing can be biased. There is more than one point of view or facts that are not distorted.

We do live in frightening times—that’s a given. But take time to stop and think: If you are reading an online article or on facebook, a newspaper article or watching tv, is that person a Henny Penny? On my part, I’ve discovered quite a lot of them and guess what? I don’t read what they write nor do I watch them online or on tv. It’s as simple as that. There’s enough fear already without succumbing to these people.

The sky could fall but there’s a pretty good chance that it won’t happen today. Rest my case.

Sherry Hill

Tuesday, May 10, 2011




When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in GRASS VALLEY, CA., it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.

Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.

One nurse took her copy to Missouri.

The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple but eloquent poem.

And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.

Crabby Old Man...THE RIPPER

What do you see nurses?. . . . .What do you see?

What are you thinking. . . . .when you're looking at me?

A crabby old man. . . . .not very wise,

Uncertain of habit. . . . .with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food. . . . .and makes no reply.

When you say in a loud voice. . . . .'I do wish you'd try!'

Who seems not to notice. . . . .the things that you do.

And forever is losing. . . . .A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not. . . . .lets you do as you will,

With bathing and feeding. . . . .The long day to fill?

Is that what you're thinking?. . . . .Is that what you see?

Then open your eyes, nurse. . . . .you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am. . . . . .As I sit here so still,

As I do at your bidding. . . . .as I eat at your will.

I'm a small child of Ten. . . . .with a father and mother,

Brothers and sisters. . . . .who love one another.

A young boy of Sixteen . . . ..with wings on his feet.

Dreaming that soon now. . . . .a lover he'll meet.

A groom soon at Twenty. . . . .my heart gives a leap.

Remembering, the vows. . . . .that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now. . . . .I have young of my own.

Who need me to guide. . . . .And a secure happy home.

A man of Thirty. . . . .My young now grown fast,

Bound to each other. . . . .With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons. . . . .have grown and are gone,

But my woman's beside me. . . . .to see I don't mourn.

At Fifty, once more. . . . .babies play 'round my knee,

Again, we know children. . . . .My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me. . . . .my wife is now dead.

I look at the future. . . . .shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing. . . . .young of their own.

And I think of the years. . . . .and the love that I've known.

I'm now an old man. . . . .and nature is cruel.

'Tis jest to make old age. . . . .look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles. . . . .grace and vigor, depart.

There is now a stone. . . . .where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass. . . . .a young man still dwells,

And now and again. . . . .my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys. . . . .I remember the pain.

And I'm loving and living. . . . .life over again.

I think of the years, all too few. . . . .gone too fast.

And accept the stark fact. . . . .that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people. . . . .open and see.

Not a crabby old man. . . . .Look closer. . . . .SEE ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within.

We will all, one day, be there, too!

PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched. They must be felt by the heart.

P.S. I did not write this. Got it in an email that is going around.

Monday, May 9, 2011


“Memorial Days of Old”

With Memorial Day approaching soon, I couldn’t help but think back to days when I was little and what my family always did. From a baby boomer’s point of view, it certainly is no way like Memorial Day of now---picnics, the opening of pools and the like: it was far different. There were parades to honor soldiers of old and then and there was the unwritten code that every family member had to go to every single cemetery where a loved one was buried.

Every Memorial Day when I was little, it was always so hot that if you took off your shoes and stepped on the sidewalk, you’d blister your feet. My parents and I would meet at my grandmother’s house where we would find my aunt, uncle and my two cousins ready for the long, long day ahead of us.

I’m not sure if it were my dad or my uncle who had the job of putting the push lawnmower in his trunk but somehow it got in one of them.

It must have been a sight to look back at the scene of kids and grownups scrambling to pick backyard roses and flowers and put them into watered tea towels so they would survive the day’s trek. Someone grabbed sickles and some grabbed glass jars in which water would be filled at the cemeteries we were going to visit.

Two cars were loaded and the windows were rolled down—there wasn’t air conditioning then. The heat just plain took your breath away and you weren’t sure you were going to ever get it back----even if you held you head out the window, it was like a blast furnace. Kids were stuck in the back with the big glass jars that rolled around on our feet and had to hold the prickly and wet roses and flowers. In other words, it was just plain awful. Adults got to wear shoes. Kids had to wear sandals. I was always the one who got stung by a bee or got weeds stuck in my sandals or tumbled over rocks once we got to the cemetery.

Our first stop back then was Spring Hill Cemetery. I remember big iron gates and it reminded me of something out of a weird fairy tale ---for it led to something creepy is what I knew.

Once we got there, it was a scattering of cutting grass and weeds, filling water jugs from the water spigots that were already there and then placing the flowers on graves. My cousins and I would wander off but not too far…for we would hear someone scream for us to come back. Then everyone had to help put everything back into the cars and get ready for the next journey. By then the pungent smell of honeysuckle was beginning to overtake me into a zombie state.

Then it was on to Teay’s cemetery where my maternal grandmother’s mother and relatives were buried. Seemed like it took weeks to get past St. Albans after the trip from Spring Hill Cemetery. And it sure was getting hotter by the minute.

The same routine took place as before: cutting grass and weeds, watering the flowers and placing them on relatives graves. I can remember my grandmother telling me stories about her mother and her uncles but I only took it in briefly: it was just plain too hot and my clothes were stuck to me like glue. And I couldn’t think at all.

There was no place to stop and eat; in fact, I don’t remember eating anything all day long.

Looking back, I don’t know why my grandfather didn’t go with us: he probably couldn’t take the heat or being jammed in a car.

This custom went on for years and years. After my grandfather died, we added Sunset cemetery to our yearly ritual and when my grandmother died, we went to Cunningham cemetery. It took me a long time to realize that she had wanted my step-grandfather buried beside his first wife….which to this day is still miraculous to me [I wouldn’t have shared her view at all!]

She had wanted to be buried in Cunningham cemetery because first of all it was named for her family[ her grandmother was Mary Cunningham] and second of all, she wanted to be buried beside her youngest sibling….her brother.

As an adult, my then husband, my mom and my two sons would make the yearly ritual to all of the above places. As always it was the hottest day of the year and as always, my clothes stuck to me. But we didn’t take a push lawnmower: we did take sickles and picked up flowers from the florist---that were already in water. What a relief that was! And some years we would meet my aunt, uncle and cousins but as time went on, I lost my aunt and it seemed that it became a spattering of going only to certain cemeteries.

My mother is gone and it is now left up to me to see that flowers are placed on loved ones graves. There is no way that I could handle what I did as a kid, a young adult or even twenty years ago. My grown sons will have to pick up the ritual, hopefully. But I will never ever forget those Memorial Days of old when it was honoring family that mattered: it wasn’t picnics or a bunch of hoopla. It was what had to be done and we did it….even if meant getting up early, all that hard work, burning up driving all over the Kanawha Valley and coming home at dark. It gave us a sense of who we were and what was expected of us: not demanded but dutifully done---hot or not!

Sherry Hill
*Above story published in the WVGazette

Friday, May 6, 2011



It was a frigid day in February with snow and the roads were covered with big patches of snow and ice and I was at school. The day was “faculty senate” which meant that students were off and the faculty spent the day discussing important matters. On these days, the staff had an hour for lunch.

But I didn’t have lunch that day for I had an appointment with a foot doctor at 10:30 that morning. My principal kindly let me leave about 10 a.m. so that I could make it there on time. The reason for my going was not critical but then and again, an ingrown toenail causes horrid pain. And I had one on my left toe.

Hobbling to my again snow-covered car [it was a Miata convertible that had the hard top on that day] I managed to get in and take off my boots. You see, I am probably the only person around who not only drives with no shoes on [or boots] but also with both feet! And my left foot is used for the brake but remember I had that horrid pain. And as I got ready to back out into the street, both of my feet were already feeling frozen.

Snow and ice covered streets strike fear in my heart and that day was no exception. I was driving around the icy patches to avoid skidding and had to get off of the hill to the main road and ahead of me I saw the street light on red. And I also saw a train over in the distance: That meant that I would be stuck there at that stop light forever and I panicked. There were two cars way ahead of me stopped and no traffic was coming up the hill due to the train—for the cars coming that way were stuck at the railroad crossing. Traffic was also blocked past the stop light for the train held them up as well.

Had driven this hill forever and yes, I was aware of the double yellow lines that were painted on the street. But my toe was on fire and I was going to miss my doctor’s appointment and so I did the inevitable: I crossed those yellow lines and got ahead of those two parked cars at the stop light and made a right onto the street. By doing that I knew that I could circumvent the traffic by going around several streets. Bad thing was that as I made that right turn, I noticed a police car stuck in the traffic and thought that perhaps the policeman didn’t see me.

Feeling that I would make the appointment and that I had escaped not getting caught, I was on the bridge and on my way when I heard the siren blaring behind me. Couldn’t be me I thought but it was! I stopped and opened up my car door and started to get out—I had never been stopped by the police in my entire life.

All of a sudden the policeman got out his bull horn and screamed: “Do not get out of the car! Do not get out of the car!” That’s when extreme fear set in and I was paralyzed right there and then. He came over to me and said that not only had I crossed the double yellow line [Yes, he was the one and he’d seen me do that] but that I was driving erratically. I began to explain that ice scared me, my toe was on fire and that I had a doctor’s appointment and that I had just left school. My fingers were fumbling trying to find my license as well as my registration card in the glove box—I acted like someone who had just been caught for some horrible crime.

He just stared at me with his mouth open. And waited. And I knew I was going to get a ticket and not get my toe fixed! But he said to me, “Oh never mind! No one could make that up!”

I was never so thankful in my entire life and never so nervous. Crept all the way to the doctor’s office, got my toe worked on and drove back still in pain but more haywire than before for I was sure that I would be stopped again. It wasn’t as if I were doing anything wrong coming back to school but it was the fear from earlier.

To this day, I still get that anxious feeling if a police car is behind me or beside me: I was that traumatized. Had I known to stay in the car that day when I got stopped, it would have been easier to have dealt with the situation but I didn’t.

One thing is for sure—if I am ever stopped again, I will never attempt to get out of my car but I may still be driving erractically for the fear of ice and snow still scares me. And guess what? When it’s that bad outside, I don’t drive in it—I don’t have to! But if I would have to [with no shoes on driving with both feet] I would be on the alert for a blue light or a police car. That’s my story and I’m sticking with it!

Wednesday, May 4, 2011



There was one specific thing that I left out and wasn’t sure as to whether to put it in or not but I decided to add it like this. My mom found out she had cancer and didn’t want to know how long she had to live. I found out through her doctor: It was three months. There was no way I would have told her. And I am an only child.

She was in and out of the hospital so many times prior to that last week. I stayed with her day and night that week and by Wednesday, she was in a coma. As per her wishes with her living will, I called her doctor and he took her off of the feeding tube and upped the pain medicine. I know she could hear me despite what some people think—I just know it.

Her favorite television show was “The Golden Girls:” She’d watch the reruns whenever they were on. At 7:10 p.m . on that Friday, that show was on the television in her hospital room and at that very minute, she rolled over and took her last breath on my face. I had been right beside her.

How strange that she had given me the breath of life and that her last breath of her life was on me--much more than ironic as I really didn’t take it all in till about a week later. And then it hit me full force. And the realization that I no longer had a mother was inconceivable and a rude awakening came thundering down upon me.

All of us, when we are little, can’t fathom the thought of our parents not ever being there and just thinking about it puts fear in our hearts. As we get older, we come to grips with it but pretend it won’t happen—at least not to us. None of us are every ready to lose a parent and especially a mother—but it happened to me and no doubt to countless of you, the readers. And so, once again, I have to say celebrate your mother is she is alive; if she’s gone, remember that she also gave you the breath of life. And rejoice in that fact.

Sherry Hill



Way over 150 years ago, Ann Jarvis of Grafton, West Virginia [then Virginia] wanted a day to honor mothers. At first she called it “Mother’s Work Day” and tirelessly campaigned to have a national holiday. That did not happen for she died before she saw her dream come true.
But through the persistance of her daughter, Anna, as well as others, it did become a national holiday—and all of us who are mothers celebrate this glorious day. If your mother is still alive, rejoice in her being with you.

President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed May 9, 1914, the first Mother’s Day official and the second Sunday in May every year became a national holiday in the USA.

I lost my mother ten years ago almost to the day and since my dad had died long before her, it was a jolt to realize that no longer did I have a mother but also that I was no longer a daughter. Couldn’t buy any more Mother’s Day cards for her or gifts but the cards which I gave her, she kept. And I have those as well as the ones she sent to me.

On the bright side, I am a mother of two grown sons and cherish every single thing that they have given me—from the homemade type to school-made gifts and to the awesome petit fours I received in the mail yesterday from one son. Every single card that they have ever given me is cherised and kept.

And I have three grandchildren who remember me on Mother’s Day. This coming Sunday, I wish all of you who are mothers and reading this a very special Mother’s Day and much happiness!

Sherry Hill

Tuesday, May 3, 2011



My whole life I wanted freckles. Did I have them? That would be a no. Do I now? Another no. I remember when I was about ten, I got my mom’s eyebrow pencil and made brown dots on my face—thought it looked cool and that people would think I had freckles.

Suppose some people did but relatives and friends who knew me, knew that I had “faked” those freckles. And I had to wash them off before my parents got home from work.

Kept hoping that freckles would appear on my face but alas and alack, they never did! Funny thing is that I know some people who have had them all of their lives and hate them.

Neither of my sons have them nor do my grandchildren but I was hoping. Maybe they are glad that they don’t: I never quizzed them on this mundane fact. And I never told them about my secret desire to have freckles and would they want to know? Doubtful. Absurd at this point.

Now I am getting brown spots on my face but trust me, they are not freckles! They are age spots and why couldn’t they be tiny tiny tiny? Doesn’t work that way in life does it? But there is no way I will take my eyebrow pencil and make little brown dots on my face—that would only make things worse. And who wants worse?

If you have freckles, I wish I had them! We are never happy with what we have are we? And so my olive skin will just remain that along with those “spots:” At least they blend in sort of. But they aren’t freckles!

Sherry Hill

Monday, May 2, 2011



Garlic is purportedly used to keep vampires away for this fact has been handed down for hundreds of years—whether you believe it is a personal decision. Every “Dracula” movie that I have seen always shows the soon to be victim in a room with garlic bulbs scattered around everywhere. Sometimes, the garlic is strung around windows as well. It’s a deterent to fend off the blood-thirsty vampire just as a wooden cross: At least it is used and not just in movies.

I once read that a man living in England was so petrified of vampires that not only did he have garlic bulbs strung all over his room but he slept with a garlic bulb in his mouth every single night. But one night that garlic bulb did him in: He choked to death on it in his sleep! Not a good idea on his part at all.

But I have found another reason to use garlic and although I use it in recipes, that is not the specific reason that I do. I go out and buy the cheap plastic bottles of garlic powder [like lots and lots during the summer] and put it on my flowers and plants just about every day. Reason? It keeps bugs off of them! They hate the smell of garlic as do critters such as deer or some species of birds.

If it rains, you have to sprinkle a lot more on flowers or plants as the water washes it off. Don’t forget to put this powdered garlic on hanging baskets of flowers either—they need it as well. Trust me when I say that this works: It does. And it's safe for the environment which makes it "green." Another good reason to use it!

Therefore, garlic not only keeps away vampires [should they be in your neighborhood!] but it repels bugs and plant eating critters or birds. And best of all, if someone comes near your house, it smells like your are cooking lasagne! What other herb is three-fold? During the summer for me, garlic powder rules!

Sherry Hill

Sunday, May 1, 2011


Love it
Hate it
See if you
Can rate it!
Turn it up
Turn it down
Put the speakers
On the ground!
Turn it off
I implore
I can't stand
It anymore!
Turn it on
Way up high
I want the sound
To reach the sky!
The bass is booming
In the car
And it's shaking
The window far!
That song I like
Play it again
One more time
So it will sink in,
I hate that song
Change the track
Want to listen
To the one back.
Love the beat
Love the song
Let me hear it
All night long!
Don't like the sound
Of that song at all
Can't you think
Of the one in the mall?
Too much beat
And not enough soul
Too loud
Like clunking ice in a bowl.
Love that tune
Play it all the time
If you don't like it
I have mine!
And so it goes
With music everywhere
It's up to the person
To declare.
Declare if you love it
Declare if you bolt
Declare it's outstanding
Declare it's a jolt!
Music is you see
Something that can be
Different to you and me
Love it or hate it
It's here to stay
And we wouldn't want it
Any other way!
From Mozart to Marley
From Elvis to Willie
From jazz to concertos
This music isn't silly.
Whatever the mood
Whatever the song
It has to be loved
To be along.
You can't escape it
For it's always there
From "Rock A Bye Baby"
To a wedding place
To celebrated times of many
Even in the end it's "Amazing Grace."

Sherry Hill