Spoon n’ nickel

miniature spoon and nickel
spoon n’ nickel © Zora Zebic 2018

I’d asked my husband where the miniature spoon came from, and he’d answered my question with the question, “What spoon?” I’d pointed to the floor at the nickel coin, and beside it a miniature spoon. Barry, that’s my husband, had then said, “That is not a spoon. It is a part that broke off my pen.”

I’d thought that interesting, and pondered the image for a while, before I’d snapped a photo. Barry’d then asked, “What is interesting about that, to take a photo of it?” I’d smiled and then told him the story which had teased my brain as I’d soaked in the image.

I’d told him the small specks, that resembled white powder, could be seen by some as lost particles from a nickel of cocaine. He’d roared at that saying, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of cocaine being sold in nickels!” I’d ignored his teasing and had continued my story, telling him the spoon was the hidden part in the pen. Who’d think the spoon was detachable from the innocuous looking pen, or that it could have such a nefarious use.

He’d laughed, and had asked, “How does this stuff get into your head?” I’d smiled at him, not replying. After all, I didn’t know the answer to that question.

© Zora Zebic 2018

A tale of two unusual ladies

Timeless wooden lady
Wooden Lady © Zora Zebic 2018


When she came into my home and had the nerve to turn my naked wooden lady to the wall, I had been upset. Who has the nerve to enter another person’s home and dare to move objects they deem objectionable? Isn’t it the rule is for the offended to simply leave?

Wooden Lady facing the wall
Wooden Lady rear view © Zora Zebic 2018

After the obnoxious woman finally left my home, I found reasons to laugh at her rude behaviour! It was obvious she had no understanding of the arts. The naked body has been sculpted for untold centuries. She deems herself an artist of sorts, so her action was telling, of her lack of artist eye.

Woman's face carved in wood
Wooden Lady face © Zora Zebic 2018

I looked at my wooden lady, purchased at a local thrift shop, and smiled. When I turned her face forward again, I noticed her raised eyebrows. I mused, was she surprised she had been noticed and moved, or was she telling me it was time I should scrape and paint the walls?

© Zora Zebic 2018

Two sweeties on my sweetgrass

Two sweeties on my sweetgrass © Zora Zebic 2018

I’ve got to love these little sweeties, even if they are feasting on my sweetgrass braid! Sweetgrass is also known as buffalo grass and the scientific name Hierochloe odorata.

Sweetgrass and sage are two of the Native American sacred plants, the third is tobacco, the fourth is cedar. Used in smudging the sweetgrass scent is inviting, and when burned, good spirts are drawn to it. It is burned at the beginning of a prayer, ceremony or cleaning ritual to attract the pure and good.

Well, my little sweeties are good. Now, if they can only learn to play a song or two!

© Zora Zebic 2018

Walk like an Egyptian

I thought you would enjoy the reaction to a beautiful coat from Egypt, donated to Street Help Homeless Centre of Windsor.


A photo of me modelling the coat.

One of our homeless ladies came in shivering. The morning had been a frosty one and she was happy to help herself to a hot cup of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal.

I was taking things out of my office to bring back to the sorting tables and as I passed the lady asked if she could please have the blanket I was carrying. I put down the other items and held the coat up for her to see.

She cried out how beautiful it was and apologized for thinking it was a blanket. I told her she had no need to feel bad, she was asking for something to keep her warm and the coat looked like a perfect fit.

She slipped on the coat and twirled about asking how she looked. Everyone told her how beautiful the coat looked on her and some commented how it seemed it was made for her.

The coat was made for her. God works in wondrous ways and bestows blessings in unique and incredible ways! I was told a lady had taken the coat off her back and donated it wanting to make her gift to the homeless personal.

I hope she will know her gift was truly a blessing to another woman in need.

© Zora Zebic 2016

Homeless in winter at age 88

Today, I was blessed to meet a gentleman who is 88 years of age. He has been staying with us for a bit, clients told me he was abused by other residents at another place.
I could not believe this lovely senior citizen has been treated so badly, and with so much disregard. I promised him we are going to get him into an apartment, ASAP.
Then we are going to demand from every level of authority in the City of Windsor, Ontario and their funded/grant recipient agencies that a suitable housing apartment be found for him. SHAME, SHAME, SHAME on everyone who will treat an Elder so badly.Homeless in Windsor in Winter at age 88

I searched for him online and I found he was a member of his band council for many, many years. I printed the history of Chippewas of Nawash Band, and gave him a copy.
At first, he was not certain he should read it, but he turned to me, with deep sadness in his teary eyes, and said, “I haven’t heard or seen so many of these names in a long time. Thank you.”
I asked him if he had any relatives, and he said no. He was the very last of his family.
He gave me a big smile, and I told him I am going to help him get an apartment. STREET HELP is the little guy, in this battle against homelessness, but we get things DONE, and with LOVE.

© Zora Zebic 2018


UPDATE: We may have located his daughter! I will try to connect the two tomorrow via video phone call! I will update again tomorrow! Also, we have made connections to reunite him to his community! God is Great!


Dinosaurs & Fire-Breathing Dragons

Dragon vs Dinosaur
dragon attacking dinosaur

They sit in my office, waiting for their dad to finish some handyman work he is doing for me. Sensing their boredom, I show them a ‘magic stone’ that sits on my desk. “Do you know what this is?”, I ask.

My young great-niece and great-nephew shake their heads, obviously disinterested. “Hum”, I say, and continue, “This is a never-ending, authentic-history-telling stone.” I grin, knowing I have their full attention, as they both peer intently at the stone.

My great-nephew, the younger of the two, asks, “How does it tell history, does it talk?” I smile and say, “It tells it’s story by pictograph.” My great-neice says, “I don’t see a picture.”

I trace my pencil tip around the shapes, explaining how the top figure is a pictograph of a dragon swooping down to attack the bottom figure, which is a dinosaur. I say, “This magic stone tells the story of how the last fire-breathing dragon killed the last dinosaur. That is how the dinosaurs became extinct.”

They children look up at me, their faces betraying their amazement of my story. I continue my dictation of the pictograph story, “The magic stone also tells the story of how the last fire-breathing dragon died, after there were no more dinosaurs to hunt for food.”

Just as I finish my tale, their dad walks in to announce he has completed the job for me. He looks over at his children and says, “You guys look like your having fun.” His children run over to him, exclaiming in unison, “Auntie just told us what happened to all the fire-breathing dragons and dinosaurs!” He smiles and says to me, “I’m gonna have to hear that story some day.”

© Zora Zebic 2018