I Keep Thinking They're Gone for the Year...

and then one shows up at the nectar feeder.  I expect the Hummingbirds to leave early, like the Orioles do, but then I look up and there sits one on the feeder calmly having a sip or three.  They're so small it's hard to think of them as real birds but they are, and they're fierce too.  I love it when a couple of them chase each other around.  If the patio door is open I can hear the tiny squicks they make.

I didn't have any trouble hearing these birds.  I had just pulled into a parking place in the YMCA lot when this flock of Canada Geese came in for a landing.  A tiny toddler walked by holding her daddy's hand then, saw them, and said, "bird," just as clear as could be.  Canada Geese sound like autumn to me.




I watched a butterfly flit from flower to flower in the planters on the edge of the patio but every time I got ready to take its picture it fluttered away.  So I looked at the blooming sedum up on the retaining wall since Lala had sent me pictures of butterflies on her sedum and there these four were hanging out in the sunshine on mine.  Thanks for the tip, Lala!





I made the pompom for the charity baby hat I finally finished.  Well, I made two pompoms because I didn't wind enough yarn on the first try and didn't tie it tight enough so it was losing yarn immediately.  Not good.  So I tired again.  Better.



 

As soon as I woke up this morning I sat on the couch and frogged (ribbit! rippit!) the start of the Fishermen's Cardigan.  The second attempt is so much better.  I had another partial skein of the dark brown which I'm carrying along with the dark brown and the cream.  When the partial skein runs out I'll attach the dark and cream marled yarn then keep adding progressively lighter color skeins until I reach the shoulders.  It's a pain knitting with three strands but I think the final product will look cool.  Or rather, warm.



17 September--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon. 

         The rush of cold that swirled around my ankles as Clara left brought me back to reality.  I cleared the table and hand-washed the dishes.  I didn't trust the dishwasher not to ruin them.  I stood with my hands in the soapy water thinking about my crazy morning--finding a wonderful surprise from Abel for breakfast, a romantic phone call also from Abel, a visit from Clara, an absolutely gorgeous bouquet of roses from Abel delivered by an interesting newcomer to town.  I felt a bit punch drunk so once the dishes were safely in the drainer I went to take a shower, hoping to clear my head.

         Clean and dressed, I carried my roses into the studio and taped a small piece of paper to my board.  I washed the paper with a blue wash, dark in the upper left corner and gradually lightening to the opposite corner.  To be safe I got out three more pieces of paper and repeated the process.  While they dried, I pulled out every shade of red I could find.  Rather than paint the entire bouquet, I decided to concentrate on one single rose.

          Pulling a gooseneck lamp closer, I shined the light on the flowers and peered at them, trying to see every shade of red.  One of the blooms was almost fully open and that was the one I chose to paint.  I hoped a glimpse of the center of the rose would make the painting more interesting.

          I got out the mask agent and dotted it all around for the baby's breath.  I used a pencil to rough in the rose's shape.  Then I took a few dark greens and suggested the ferns.  With dark brown added to the deepest green, I put some stems under a few of the baby's breath dots.

         Taking a toothpick, I masked little dots in the center of the flower so I could add yellow pollen grains to the threadlike stamens and drew little lines of masking up the inside of the petal visible above the center.

           Starting with the palest, pinkest of the reds in my palette, I painted the deep center, gradually adding darker and darker reds until I finished with an almost black red.  Adding even more black to the darkest red, I rolled my brush along the leading edges of the foreground petals to suggest their ragged curled edges.  Since what I had produced so far resembled nothing more than a sloppy red bull’s-eye, I got ready to try to turn my splotch into a realistic looking flower.

         While cleaning my brushes, I peered into the bowl of the rose, learning the way Mother Nature blended her colors.  Using a round brush and all the skills I had acquired over the last year I spread the rosiest reds and wine reds up the petals, letting them blend on the still wet paper so there weren't any hard edges.  Once I was satisfied with the rose, I floated more of the deepest green around the foreground edges leaving jagged spaces to suggest the ferns.  A few more tiny lines for the baby's breath stems and my painting was ready to dry.  After cleaning my brushes, I went into the kitchen to forage for lunch.

            When I opened the ‘fridge I nearly fell down.  There in the center of the top shelf was another rosebud decorated china plate wrapped in plastic wrap with a note on top.

"Enjoy your lunch. Love, Abel,” it read, “P.S.  Did you notice the basket of bread on the counter?"

            I whirled around and, sure enough, there was a basket next to the stove.  When I peeled back the linen napkin lining it, I found four tiny loaves of homemade bread--and a note.

"What's bread and cheese without wine?" the note said, "You'll find a split of champagne and a strawberry for your flute in the crisper drawer."

            I looked in the fridge and there it was.  I removed the plate from the refrigerator, set it on the table, and gently peeled off the plastic wrap to discover five kinds of cheese, a small dish of olives, another of what looked like pickled vegetables, and two tiny chocolates in their paper cups.  When I checked in the crisper, there was a split of champagne next to a crystal flute with a wrapped strawberry nestled inside.

            "Oh my God," I said aloud.  "Abel, how did you do all this without my hearing you?"  I opened the bubbly, poured it over the berry, and sipped.

            By the time I finished my lunch and hand-washed those dishes, I was in no shape to paint anymore.  I felt as if that single glass of champagne I’d had with lunch had gone right to my head.  The avalanche of Valentine’s gifts made me dizzy.  I decided to build a fire, sit in the living room, and read a book for the afternoon.  I kind of dreaded what Abel had planned for the evening; the day had been too full of surprises.

The only food I cooked today was a large pizza from Papa Murphy's (it's $10 Tuesday) that I ate two pieces of for lunch and froze the rest.  Spinach salad with WW Green Goddess dressing and a little grilled chicken for supper after pool walking with KW for half an hour.  Green grapes have become my go-to snack this week.  Restarting WW has plunged me into a low mood for some reason.  Eating right makes me feel good so I don't know why I'm in a funk.  I need something to de-funk-i-fy me.  Ohh, LC and OJ!  That's just the thing.
--Barbara