Moon, Books, Walks

I did get up at five a.m. to photograph this rose-toned moon the other morning. It hung so heavy in the sky before it gave up any more ideas of floating and sank into the trees.

Walking over to the house paid off two days ago with the discovery of insulation being almost completely installed.

But while there was nothing new happening I did find things on the site to draw in my building book.

This morning I headed over to the river. It was so high with not much movement, that there was a smell of rotting plant life. But still beautiful to see early in the morning. I won’t even bother to walk on the downstream path because that is bound to be covered with overflow.

And the garden at the foot of the bridge.

On the walk this morning a couple passed me from behind. From under his t shirt flowed the perfect pattern of diagonally plaited basket weaving….down both arms to the wrist. I couldn’t help but wonder if the pattern curved around and down his chest to finish in a large potato basket on his stomach. But enduring the pain of all that to end up with potatoes just did not seem logical, and I was happy not to have asked him. Tattooing is beyond me. The pain and that creepy blue of impending doom…..

I have called the moving company wondering if I should get on a list for an undetermined date in August. They said not to do that yet and to wait til mid July to see if I have something affirmative from the builder. So far no one is scheduled in August. They have worked with my builder before and know he is pretty accurate in his estimates.

Then I asked my electric company how I change accounts from here to there and what could they recommend about their internet service. Simple, just call when I am ready and they have a plan that is sure to give good internet at a much lower rate than I now pay for an outside company. This moving just gets simpler and simpler. All I need to do is tape together more boxes and fill them.

And before I could stop myself I bought two more books this week. I read about Suzanne’s on a FB feed from an Asheville, NC gallery where she will be giving a talk. I had seen her work and admired her dedication to documentation. In fact while I was doing a two week artist residence she came down for one week to record the Nature of the area. So, while I was on the internet ordering her book, I added my one and only Beatrix Potter. One artist draws the brutal reality of road kill and the other dresses her little animals in perfect attire for wandering about in their homeland.

Both of them make me want to draw, draw, draw. I think the last thing in a box to be moved will be my pencils and watercolors. I am missing Burke and Wills while they are safely tucked into that old field portfolio. But I need uninterrupted time to get back to their story.

I started to read Suzanne’s book this morning. Only meaning to read the preface…but found it hard to put down. I can appreciate how she says the art is not enough and needs her words to complete the story. And I so admire those Nature artists who spend so much time with research and live (or dead) specimens. It is a good book and more than worth the twenty dollars it costs.

It makes me wonder if I should take one of my blank journals, made before I packed up the studio, and dedicate it to documenting all I see in the meadow between my new house and the gym. In just the few months I have been walking through there it has changed so much. And it would be perfect timing to start in late summer to see the landscape and all it supports die off only to re emerge next spring and peak into full bloom like it was earlier this month.

It is going to be another hot humid day…..pack boxes or read?

Til later….

Time Again…..

Where did the four days go? If I don’t write a blog today then the photos and thoughts just pile up.

Saturday was my birthday. I usually make my bed as soon as I vacate it, but was so taken by how inviting it looked to just get back in… I didn’t.

I am in the third day of my 79th year.

So I have watched the second hearing of the January 6 Insurrection, had some lunch or maybe just some crackers, washed the dish detergent  bottle because there was some dirt in the grooves, thought about packing some more boxes, books preferably, but instead just ordered two more books…Suzanne Stryk’s In the Middle of Somewhere, and a hardbound on the drawings, illustrations and artwork of Beatrice Potter. They will come in two days and sit next to a book I bought last week, Making a Life by Melanie Falick. I can’t settle down to just opening them up and reading…I just wanted them to give me places and things to think about when I can get back to drawing in a designated place.

But in my defense, I worked out at the gym, walked the dam, grocery shopped and picked up a breakfast drink before settling in for the hearings.  Now I poured a glass of wine to prattle on here. Speaking of which, I found these in the grocery store and had to bring them home at only $7 each. This was the first Australian wine I ever had a chance to buy here in the states and although it probably is not the best, it does have a sentimental value. But it is true what that snooty wine shop owner told me years ago in New South Wales, “You Americans will buy anything with a critter on it.”

Aged in barrels it says…probably its second week of fermentation and then bottled for the US. And can you believe I am saving these for a special occasion while I sip a box red.

Back to the last few days….Walks. This morning the dam…

And a couple of days ago over to the house,

All lined up correctly.

Hot and cold for master bath shower. And drawn in the book…

Getting older makes me think about holding onto memories. Probably has something to do with leaving this house…Anyway I did write a very short short story and if it was not so terribly hot and humid at noon today, I would have gone out to lose myself like Lillian in the grasping of memory with shadow. I do have two shirts to iron so I can touch base with her that way.

Four more boxes were packed yesterday. About all that is left in the studio is the empty shelves that will follow me over to new walls only to hold the same old things.

The fixit man came the other day and did everything he needed to do, and a new bathroom faucet has been ordered for the guest bathroom vanity, so he will be back to finish this week.

Tomorrow I will go back to the house to see what might be new there. I am hoping insulation at least. It is getting harder to find things to draw.

At 4:30 this morning there was the most beautiful big fat orange moon setting on the horizon while giving a wonderful glow to the bed. I am going to watch it float about tomorrow morning before making the bed, feeding the cats, taking my shower, dressing, wondering about makeup and hair, remembering that splash of Jean Nate before heading back off to the gym, a visit with old men and coffee before coming back to the ironing I just postponed while doing this blog and drinking two thirds of the glass of wine.

Til later….

Keeping Focused

The early morning walks are the perfect place to start. Especially going to see what, if anything, has progressed on the house.

I love the walk through the meadow from the gym…and the details are changing in the grasses.

I got to visit with two electricians. One tells me that they do not place the dining room ceiling lights until after I move in so he can see where the table is placed. I think that is such a nice idea. He said he will give me a couple of weeks of living there to decide where that table will stay. And we went over again where all the switches go for turning things on in one place and off in another. The dimming switches will be added later depending on which lights I want to be able to turn down. He has a good eye and pointed out that you don’t want a four switch box paired with a three switch box….keep the switch plates even. And how he wanted to realign the heat vent in the ceiling with where he is placing the recessed ceiling light in the foyer…you don’t want a crooked line when you glance up.

The other electrician helped me make sure that upright two by fours were where I needed them to hang heavy pieces and told me about how he helped a lady hang all her African masks in a stairwell. Nice fellows.

I love how the electric wire spool is put on this roller tool to just pull off what is needed.

There is now a shortage of electrical boxes making it hard on builders and electricians. Luckily mine are already here.

And put in place. Now the house is ready for the insulation and drywall (sheet rock).

Another walk to the dam.

And this morning back on a very overflowing river!

I have packed up more boxes in the office and up here in the living room, dining room and some pictures off the walls in a bathroom. Once the things come off the walls I get out my paint and dab at all the holes and scratches that have become exposed.

It isn’t just dust that clings to these things but the memories as well. I don’t dwell, just cover them all up with bubble wrap or paper and then into a box and taped up tight. The dust and memories will still be there when I unwrap them in new surroundings.

I miss writing. I was going to go to a writers’ group this evening but changed my mind. Writing is such a solitary thing, an emotional outlet, a way to fix a thought on a page…a story. I wish I could get back to my short story about a woman alone and the things that give her comfort. I don’t need to share a part of her story with others who may interpret the sharing as asking for suggestions or input as to what happens next. Only the woman knows and she only shares that with me when the time is right. I just miss her and wonder what is happening as she hovers above the page. When all my things are in boxes and there are several cloudy moody days in a row can she and I have that conversation.

What gives me such a good escape right now is the drawing in my house building book. When I thumb through it I can see so much progress on the house. New pages this week.

Last night I had dinner out with friends and then lunch today with two other ones. The leftovers from both meals will become dinner tonight. I will have wine as well, and be glued to the television coverage of the January 6 Committee’s exposure of what truly was a dark time for our country. I watched the Watergate Hearings, the Clarence Thomas confirmation to the Supreme Court that exposed how little the powers that be believe women, the Clinton impeachment process, the two impeachments of a despicable president still pulling strings of the weak….so I will watch this as well. And what strikes me as so obvious is that by far the sorriest behavior lands squarely in the lap of Republicans. Their attraction to greed and power seems limitless….and always at the cost of those less fortunate.

So I am off to pour a glass of wine and think of the moral compasses so many other countries hold dear….

Til later…

 

 

Packing Up – I Thought I Downsized!!!

Back on the river…practicing my social skills. Two women coming toward me stop. One asked me if she knew me because I looked familiar. I gave her my name and she said, no, must be someone else. Before they moved on I asked her name. She gave it and I said that now we know each other. She found that funny. And of course, by now, we have both forgotten. But for me it was another big step to talk to someone.

Poor trees…reaching out, waving all their new leaves…it gets to be too much! The river is very high and more trees may just give in to the wet and topple in.

And then the things I couldn’t help bring back home. Goose feather and “Tennessee Toothpicks” that are really the centers of tulip poplar blooms.

They mow a path from my new place over to the soccer fields and gym I go to.

When I checked the house Thursday only this black pipe seemed new in the building process.

The builder says August 15 is a good date to move in…..but “Don’t hold me to it.”      I won’t.

After the inspection last week and what looks like a sure sale of the house, I started packing up more.

There was little to no sadness taking the things down and packing them in boxes. It is time to start again. Some pieces were very, very dusty! I will have to get someone, a tall someone, to come and climb a ladder to hand down the rest. This piece I found in the entry was pretty packed with dust. I took a damp paper towel to get a good look at it.

I bought a large gourd, drew on it, then covered the drawing with basswood inner bark that I had stripped to make cordage and baskets in the eighties. Then I burned in designs on the basswood strips. Next other dried plant fibers and cornhusks after making a clay face and coiled hat.

Finished off with coconut and clay beads from Africa that my irresistible importer tempted me with. All together, The Gourd Woman makes a nice rattly chatter when handled.

So she will come along with me as a reminder of those days when I loved the natural fibers of the basket making world.

There is a large carton, never unpacked, down in the storage room. It will go back north when the U Haul truck goes with all that the kids and Marla are taking home. This morning on our weekly call, they wanted to know what was in it. So I looked.

A frame Lee made fallen away from its painting and a watercolor copy someone, his mother or aunt did.

A painting of a barn I did in 1981. Wallpaper across the back kept the frame attached.

Crewel work I did when the kids were very young. I liked drawing with yarn back then….or they more likely are my mothers because she loved doing these on visits.

Puzzles, lincoln logs, leggos, clay blocks, and those sticks and wheels with holes (I forgot what they are called).

Patrick’s wood carving signed and dated on the back when he was twelve years old.

Another water color copy to make a pair and another pair of Godey girl prints, nicely framed and from Lee’s side of the family.

All of it goes north and between the three of them, it will be taken care of.

Why do we keep things that we really would not want. It must be that someone in the family made it. These things are the physical evidence of what they loved doing. Are we supposed to keep these unopened boxes forever? Drag them from house to house only to stuff them into basements and attics? No, they are not coming with me on this next trip. There is just enough space for the things I love looking at, touching, reading, caressing…..And later on my children will have to deal with every one of those things. Just not now.

Til later…