One Down

 


This afternoon I went to a friend's house to knit and finished the first of OJ's mittens.  I need to knit the second one quickly because...








the birdbath was frozen this morning...



 

and all of the neighborhood roofs were covered with frost.  When I went out for the paper I saw my breath.  Ack. 


 

Did I show you the snakes that I saw last week?  This pair of garter snakes were canoodling in the fallen leaves around the corner from our cabin...



and I managed to snap a photo of the bigger one's face.  (It's to the left of the leaf on the right. See the beady eyes?) She/he was very focused on my camera lens.  It was probably the female since they're usually bigger in the animal kingdom.  


 


I saw some vividly colored mushrooms on a walk.  I'm guessing that this red one isn't edible.  It's pretty though.


 



This morning I filled the feeders and this Bluejay was calling out the news within 5 minutes.  How do they know?

The squirrel wasn't far behind.  I do like watching them hang by their hind legs while snacking on a peanut.















I stopped at ALDI for grapes (on sale) and picked up a bag of mini caramel rice cakes and small pretzel twists that I counted into 2-point packs for when the urge to snack overwhelms me.  I had some M&Ms and bought a bag of Bark Snacks at Office Max when I went to look at new laptops.  This one is on its last legs and driving me nuts (but then it isn't a long drive).

14 October--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon. 

July

           I had gotten a flier for a women’s weekend of art back in May.  It was kind of a kaleidoscope of things, painting, writing, pottery, papermaking, all sorts of things I’d wanted to try held at a resort in Door County.  Participants stayed at the resort but went to different artist’s studios for the sessions.

          Clara saw the flyer on my table and looked through it.  I suggested that she and I go, give her a chance to experience my new world.  I had been thinking of asking Abel to come with me, even if he just stayed in the room while I did the art, the weekend was for women after all, but decided he’d be too bored and too much of a distraction.  Having Clara come with me was brilliant.

         We shared a room and she was nervous that first morning as we drove to the painter’s studio.  I could tell because she kept saying how she’d be the worst one in class, how I’d be the best and she’d suck.

         There were about half experienced painters and half beginners in the group.  The artist, a vigorous man in his late seventies, gave those of us who had some experience permission to paint along or to do something different while he concentrated on the women who had never held a brush before.  I decided not to paint along with the group so Clara wouldn’t feel self-conscious.

The first thing he asked the beginners to do was a "glaze & silhouette" painting, a real beginner step I thought was a brilliant project to begin with.

          He had a stack of templates for them to trace onto their paper and then go over with pencil.  He suggested they use only indigo paint so they didn’t have to deal with paints blending together, glaze the paper with a graduated wash, and then fill in the tracing with barely diluted indigo.  Their choices were simple things: a tractor, an Amish buggy, a deer, two guys fishing in a boat, and an Amish guy driving a horse-drawn wagon (back view).  Clara chose the last one.

         When she showed it to me, I said I thought she did an okay job, although she said, “Gail, I think it looks like the horse and driver are sitting side by side, and the horse is driving.”  I looked at it again and I had to agree.  The lack of perspective made the image flat.

         The woman at the next table looked at Clara’s painting when she heard us discussing it and, through a fit of giggles, said, “Honey, to me it looks like Scooby Doo driving that wagon.”

         We took a closer look at it and she was right.  Clara had painted a watercolor of Scooby Doo on a date with an Amish guy.  We laughed so hard the teacher gave us a dirty look.

         Next he asked them to try a two-color one.  Clara picked the stencil of the two guys fishing, since she and Hank love to fish.  The teacher suggested that everyone first put a yellow glaze over the paper and then put in the sky and water with an indigo overglaze.

         Clara’s painting turned out pretty well but the fishermen were turned away from each other and looked really tense.  “This looks like Hank and me when nothing’s biting and we’ve spent the morning arguing about money or one of the kids,” she said, waving the paper at me.  “Judging from these two failures, you don’t have to worry about competition from me.”

          But she laughed as she said it.  I agreed that perhaps painting wasn’t the right hobby for her.  I was relieved she wasn’t angry or frustrated.

At the end of last week's retreat, JB asked us what the next step in our writing lives would be and I said that I hoped to write for 15 minutes a day, every day, and today I managed it.  Fifteen minutes isn't long but it is long enough to get an idea launched.  I made a post-it note of what was in my head so that when I sit down tomorrow I'll know where to go (thanks for the idea, DD).  I had high hopes for getting a pair of pants sewn up but only managed to rearrange the bed in the guest room because OJ said the last time he was here he didn't want to nap in Baba's bed so I'm hoping that moving it will help.  He's not sleeping with me so if he wants to spend the night he'll have to sleep in there.  Fingers crossed.  Next Friday is an LC day and the following one is an OJ day.  Fun times a'coming!
--Barbara