Hnos Martinez S.L Pintado A Mano

A Hand Painted Flowers Watering can.

The Pottery is in excellent condition no chips, cracks, crazing or restorations.

A beautiful addition to any kitchen and gardens outdoors or indoor use.

Dimensions 21 cm x 20. Holds 6 Cups.

All parts are working.

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Writing About Ideals


“A battle is to be conducted on behalf of liberty and freedom and against tyranny and oppression.”
-Simon Bainbridge – Napoleon and English Romanticism 
Actually, when writing, there might be purpose;

Is is not the attention of the writer to the reader to engage them into a sense of excitement…

Can one be  induced by tremendous courage when staring into the face of the enemy?

During the time of the Napoleonic Wars; Spain was fighting against Napoleon. 

France; had the most powerful army in the world, Sadly, not anymore. 

Was Napoleon really that harsh? It’s not easy keeping your country from invaders. 

Maybe it’s why we continue to write about history, I think. 

I love history; to learn from it and write to convey these same ideals of freedom from tyranny. 

Writing is about conveying a reason to a purpose where there is an action that is be inspired by the reader taken on to a just cause. 

Could it be seen as a journey from radicalism to conservatism. 

Perhaps I write with a radical stance on a Revolution to a passionate fervour; the battle of good against evil. 

Write to stand up for the safety and surety of its people and it’s nation against oppression. 

Write regardless to the disappointment of others. 

Write for a cause by what a country could be; like in France, what it should do; yet turning out not to be; not ensuing, not defending against the enemy. 

How can I shape my views…

Do I write it down; do I sharing my thoughts?

And although it may not be read by many, just maybe I did my part. 

And where are the The Order of Légion d’Honneur medals hidden?

Where are the French Médaille Militaire and Victorian Crosses yet to be given? 

Where is the resilience of France today and it’s people in the face of the enemy? 

Where is Napoleon today? 

Come on François Hollande! 

I hope you read this. 

I am angry. 

I write to reflect both upon the suffering and the bravery of people. 

But in the end, 

I am just a poet who longs to see her poetry as an expression of liberty and a hope for freedom against tyranny. 

Until we meet again…

American Girl in Wales

*****

Courtesy of the Daul family World War II veteran Ed Daul received the medal in 2004. (Pictured Above)

More about Ed Daul French Medal of Honor: http://www.greenbaypressgazette.com/story/news/local/2015/10/14/world-war-ii-vet-receives-french-honor-medal/73673166/

Spain

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We drove through the Pyrenees and across France to Spain following the mountain bends; the roads curving in alternate succession forming our path along the way and it almost seemed if the mountains alternated rather that the road ascending to the rise and fall of the pitch.  And it was there I witnessed for the first time near Valencia these majestic mosaic fields of white rock and limestone where orange trees seem to grow in groves for miles and miles from right out of the white sands.

There were the olive trees too that covered every surface area defending the glistening inlets from the Mediterranean Sea with villages nestling in valleys pointing the way to the to Tarragona; one of the most ancient parts of southern Spain. We were heading to Barcelona, Cartagena then Madrid. Each a Roman City with visual evidence of remains even older than before recorded time and places that have been inhabited by humans for more two millennia.

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The land is massive and diverse with incredible biodiversity and where everything survives from these limestone mountains. They hills are dotted with cave homes and castles forts every ten miles just to give you an idea of the scale of the countryside.

Driving beneath these ridges we had made our from Tarragona to Barcelona by sunset. Just an hour from Cartagena we could have been in Portugal or Morocco depending on our direction of our destination.

Destiny is the universal principle and the ultimate by which the order of things is presumably prescribed; the decreed cause of events and time. These are the Argons and maybe if these mountains had eyes, they would wake to find us standing in admiration of them. I can feel them and it is as if they could breathe life into me like the wind upon the earth’s shore. These Argon Mountains have seen untold sunrises with the many who have longed to conquer; not to forget the Crusaders who passed through here when they came only to thunder praise standing reverent and so silent.

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We were in these mountains in January near Valencia. We had just left Barcelona and on our way to Catalonia. It is close to Morocco was just thinking of the Moors and who fought and failed to take possession of this lands. When I look at them the land seems almost impenetrable for those who might have attempted to enter with the idea of conquering. There are just too many hilltop castles and  fortresses along the way to the East, North, and South and beyond.

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They left traces of history and probably built for protection from the Moors. It’s there in these mountains where I can almost feel the traces of destiny that they left behind. And it was here where I see proof that destiny is part of the life’s journey; and I know it does not come about without some tension and maybe we’re are not always supposed to know how things will be or turn out, but perhaps we were just lead hear by Faith. I don’t know for sure, but I think the mountain is in us; and maybe its just a part of the daily climb; where it continues to kindle my every enthusiasm, making my every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of me.

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Mid Pyrenees, Spain


We are in the Mid Pyreneese traveling by car through these mountains together and through the valleys and surrounding in and out of France and southward to Spain. We’re headed southward to Barcelona.

It is a place where we are able to travel by car. We take our time, to enjoy this life and this wet earth and hopefully find warm dry land. Last night we crossed the English Channel on a ferry. Today we drove through France to Spain.

The little doggies go on the road with us. And they were like our own children; wanting to go everywhere we go. It’s as if our love for them is like the same love they have for us.

To travel and to be with someone you love is wonderful. But I think I could be in any place as long as I’m with him. That’s what love is; Just to be with the person you can’t spend a day without. Together we have become an ‘us’. I love that.