Tuesday, January 11, 2011

I Had to Shovel

Not snowblow, just shovel. The snow that snowed last night and this morning was the light, dry, fluffy stuff that's easy to push around and a pain to blow so I broomed off the car and shovelled the driveway instead of posting before work. I filled the birdfeeders and the birdbath roo. (Good girl, Barbara! You're a real peach.) Now I'm at work with nothing to do so I think I'll post. Well, I had something to do because Bob, one of the Instructors, called and asked me to bill the DNR for some work he did, but it only took me about 10 minutes and that's with a FedEx interruption and making some pricing changes once I had the bill in the envelope, etc. I work too fast or too efficiently or something I guess. We need more customers. Will you please come and buy some dive gear? Please? How about a magazine? There are pretty pictures of fish, you know you like pretty pictures. There's fruity candy, too, if you're behaved. I'm having a lemon candy, I'm being "haved."

January 10--Andre Derain, The Palace of Westminster. People who live alongside the Thames in the city think of it as a working river. Cargo comes up it from all over the world and leaves from the docks to spread far and wide. Tourist boats chug up and down, the amplified voices of the bored guides echoing off the buildings. No one riding on a bus over a bridge or walking on an errand pauses to contemplate the glitter of sunlight on the water or the pattern raindrops make on the surface as it pounds down. A few miles upriver you wouldn't know it's the same river at all. There you see wading birds near the banks and dragonflies sparkle and dip in the reeds. Old men and boys fish from shady banks or flat bottomed boats. The river gurgles and chuckles to itself as it moves along. In the city it slides silently past water stairs and prison gates. This old river sure has a split personality.

Interesting but bland. Odd because the painting is very bright with primary colors and bold strokes. Ah, well, maybe tonight there'll be a bland picture and something with heart-pounding action will come. C'est la vie!

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