Tips – This Could Be A Good One

Tip # 1 – catnip helps cats get acquainted.

Tip #2 – Greek yogurt can be substituted for sour cream and when there is not as much butternut squash as the recipe calls for, add a sweet potato. And rosemary looks as good as chives for a garnish.

Tip #3 – chicken tastes like a more moist turkey and paired with the regulars makes a fine Thanksgiving dinner.

Tip #4 – Appreciate the light around you.

Tip #5 – Learn how to sit quietly and enjoy the flavors of a fine cotes-du-Rhone and a new scotch. And think how lucky you are to have friends far away that think you should buy a good scotch, send you a check to pay for it, and ask you to set up a time so you can have the drink together. The best!

Tip # 6 – Accept the fact that it is so cold at the dam and the wind is giving you an ice cream headache. Turn back at less than 500 steps across to take a shot of the Mars-like landscape and get into the car.

Tip #7 – and this is where it gets really good. If you are like me it does not ever occur to look at manuals. The one that lurks in the glove compartment of the car is certainly the most avoided, or so I thought.

Our Hover floor scrubber just quit sucking up the water it so willingly sprayed on the floor. My cleaning lady suggested I ask Patrick to look at it. As suspected – full of “lint”. Packed from one end to the other with years of cat hair. I estimate that every cat we ever owned was somewhere in all the curved, angled, hard to reach areas. So Patrick took it apart carefully remembering which screws went where.

The tip part of this is the tools I used to clean out the hard to reach areas.

The standard toothbrush.

 

The mushroom cleaning brush was the best for clearing cat hair from the spinning bristles.

And then this! Rosemary stem. Flexible enough to go around corners and sturdy enough to poke away at the stubborn clumps.

So, pleased with our progress on the Hoover, we turned on the Dyson vacuum to assist in the cleanup. Patrick said it whined a bit too much. Well no wonder – same issues! But the filter that I am sure the manual claims should be replaced regularly had completely disintegrated into what we assumed was more packed old cat hair. So we scrubbed the parts remaining.

And they are now out in the sun because deep inside hidden from view was a warning not to put any damp parts back into the vacuum.

While these parts dry I have ordered new filters for both cleaning machines and decided to write this blog. Patrick is now off to the hardware to get a replacement door knob for the door to the garage and more tubs to pack tools from Lee’s shop.

Using the kitchen sink to clean out the scrubber and vacuum have reinforced the idea to get a laundry tub put into the new house. Speaking of which we did stop by on our way home from the dam to take a picture of the lot being prepared for construction.

And there was time to get a new drawing into the Bird Stories book. A junco that is on the left is on my mind because they show up by the dozens when it gets cold enough for them here.  It sure is now!

No more news from here. Lunch will be some of those yummy savoury scones I made the other day and a piece of one of the chocolate mousses Patrick brought down. He will fix the door and go down to the shop to work on the new mantel for the house and I will try not to watch more episodes of Perry Mason, a superbly acted and filmed story of his early life. So good that one would think it is a British production.

I have a bunch of blank books that only need their Coptic bindings to finish them off. Several were found while Marla and I were going through the studio packing things up. I could work on those or go back to my stitching. Maybe I will just watch out the window for juncos and pick a fresh supply of rosemary for the kitchen.

Til later….

Thanksgiving Week

Dilly, a very pleasant cat to have around. She and Sadie are getting past the hissy bits.

Yesterday’s walk at the dam.

Then after a quick stop at the grocery store I baked the rest of the day.

Wonderful savoury scones.

And second best malted cookies I ever ate.

Then this sunset.

And this morning 20 degrees at the riverwalk.

Somewhere in the past few days I got more drawings done in the Bird Stories book.

And just now I picked these seed fluffs from the now gone blooms of the Japanese Anemones.

They are like fine cotton balls. I was thinking of drawing them but took them back outside before Dilly became fascinated with them and the fluff would be all over.

Tomorrow I will take my early morning walk and do some more stitching and drawing. Maybe even bake a cranberry orange pecan loaf just to put in the freezer. This afternoon I should make up Lee’s recipe for cranberry relish.

The hospital called the other night. Lee had fallen and had a bump on his head. So following protocol he was taken to the hospital where a cat scan showed blood seepage between brain and skull. Six hours later it had not gotten worse so was taken back to the care center. I haven’t had one of those middle of the night calls for quite some time, but they never cease to be frightening….even when you know what is coming.

Time to go get the blender out to make his relish and think of better times.

Til later…..

An Illustrating Journal Class

While working on sorting books down in the studio I came across this large book. I loved it when I found it and even more so now. Too much moisture has buckled the pages but the influence still remains.

As you can see it delves into the illustrations that accompany correspondence…..mostly French artists and writers.

Francine Prose says the following in her forward to the book:

“It is too simple, I think, to see these letters merely as relics of a bygone era – of a time that existed before the telephone, before email –  and lament the fact that communications as eloquent and glorious as these may never be created again. For what Illustrated Letters gives us, in addition to pleasure, is a kind of faith in the playfulness and generosity of artists and writers who create this art merely out of a motivation to give it – to send it to someone else.

Personalized, individualized, unique, meant for only one reader, letters are the opposite of the commodity, of the object of mass production. These letters are like missiles aimed from one heart to another, or like messages in bottles that reach us from great distance, across lost and far-off seas. Their words and images continue to hold us in their grasp long after we have closed the book – even as the intermission begins and the orchestra strikes up its waltz.”

Isn’t that simply the best way to talk about quick illustrations, done to clarify a point, for the sole purpose of adding clarity to words and thoughts on a page. I love it! Here are some examples from the book.

So when I see the “Illustrated” whatever this book is what comes to mind. It lives in my brain folder named “Illustration”.

And when I saw a class being offered that was titled “Illustrated Journal” taught by a woman I admired, I enrolled. I told myself that this was going to be perfect! I would learn how to draw quickly whatever it was I wanted to convey to myself and the person reading/looking at my pages.

In preparation I made my own journal. Made using folded folios of cheap drawing paper that were stitched into a repurposed file folder.

My thinking here was that it was not about doing good work on archival paper, but quickly getting down the necessary essentials to convey a message. Not unlike drawing on a cocktail napkin at the bar to make your companion better understand what you are talking about.

The first day of class my fellow students line up to purchase journals from the instructor…landscape oriented hardbound books holding an appropriate amount of nice watercolor paper pages. It did not make sense to me then or now. But I came to realize that all but me were interested in making a lovely product out of their learning process for the week.

Here are some of my pages with valuable information and self-criticism…which only had value to me. It is how I learn. Do what I am assigned and make notes on the assignment.

Notice how I am attempting to keep up with the fine calligraphic-style writing that other students are using to “talk” about their subject.

We are to go off and spend only so much time capturing and illustrating what we see. Here I forgot to take my test swatches for color management before actually applying color to the journal page.

I liked this one so much because it occurred to me that the book would have to be turned sideways to complete all I wanted in this image. Making adjustments on the fly so to speak, just what a quick sketcher would have to do.

We were to draw in lightly with pencil, then ink, then color. I am testing my pens for how the water of watercolor affects the lines. We can easily see how long it is taking to do these “quick” drawings.

I like how I ended up lurking in the closet of the spinning studio to get this last drawing done.

Each day we brought our sketchbooks back to the classroom for critique. Each of the other nine books were carefully spaced out along the wall. Mine I placed at the end so as not to disturb the presentation and visual continuation of the more perfected illustrations and written words.

Some time later I met up with the instructor and she asked what I thought of her class. I told her it was not what I expected. I wanted to learn more by drawing less. She seemed puzzled by this and am sure she thought I should have read the description of her class better. And she was right to think that. The only way to get what I wanted to learn was to draw, and draw, and draw.

It does little good to join a daily sketchers group if you are the only one drawing. It does no good to involve anyone but yourself in the attempt to become quicker, clearer, and more to the point when illustrating words and thoughts.

I am not in the hurry I used to be in 2009. Doing something quickly seems silly now. Due to Covid I am no longer sitting in cafes and bars, tucked in a corner with sketchbook in hand looking at how an old man’s hand fits so easily around a pint of dark beer. I miss that. The old man, his hand, the beer, but mostly I miss being there with a small book open and a pencil or pen trying to capture the moment.

I also found my sixty-four year old notebook from my sewing classes in junior high school. I received a “B”. The teacher did not think I was trying hard enough to do things correctly. I believe she is also the same teacher who had each of us girls place a tape measure around our hips and then be seated. Look at the new measurement and know clearly which of us would end up with a “secretary spread”. Now I know that only the anorexic would have kept her tape measure reading the same number but at the time we were a classroom full of girls made painfully aware of what our future rear ends would become….broader!

I think there are no more books that bear discussing in the blog today.

Til later…..

 

Having a Dreary Day

The window washers had to cancel today and reschedule a few weeks from now. Finding help, even poor help is hard to come by in the rural south. There simply are not enough people to fill the job vacancies. And it is not as simple as pay more and they will come. I am sure the employers here would gladly pay if they could just get somebody willing and able to work. So being rescheduled for a good window wash and eaves cleanout is of small consequence. I am happy to still be on their list to get service.

Last week I picked out the appliances for the new house. Ordering early is a necessity with demand and shortages. I wanted a gas stove because that is what I am used to. And the one I picked out has five burners on top and a small one rack oven above and a bigger oven down below. Such a great idea for baking cookies one sheet at a time and baking/heating up simple dishes. A dishwasher that is as quiet as the one I have had for sixteen years and a microwave/hood combination for over the stove. The total for just those took my entire appliance allowance which is fine because I am taking my refrigerator and washer and dryer. It was fun to be in a store looking at what is new in the past sixteen years.

Later I will pick out fans and light fixtures. The builder thought I would like to get a chandelier for the dining room. I said no to that because fixtures like that tend to determine where a table goes. So canned lighting in the ceiling is fine. But some nice pendant lights over the island with a sink might be fun. For that island I requested outlets with USB ports for each end.

Building is as much fun now as it always was. Only difference is I don’t have Lee to share in the experience. He is still eating with a bit of help and only fighting the nurses at shower time. Medication has helped with the severity of his resistance. I asked if he still had his stuffed cats and they said not so much since he took his anger out on them but likely they were still in his room. For quite some time they were a comfort and maybe can be again. I am so thankful that he is in a place where they are equipped to care for him.

And as for me…I am the one left here remembering how things used to be and planning a different life for myself. Lee’s dementia and Covid have dwindled the social options. Only the best have hung in there with us. And as for the others who loved claiming how much they cared about us…they have drifted off with their concerns and intentions of keeping in touch to see if there was something helpful they could do. In all honesty here is what they could have done over the past five years since Lee’s diagnosis:

Brought him a pie, dropped off a casserole, a bottle of wine, offered to pick up something from a store I could no longer get to, come by to say hello to him, send a funny card to either of us, offer to stack his rocks, bring over some flowers/produce from their garden, tell us about something happening, ….in other words care enough to notice that we actually could have used more than hollow words.

But the good news is we managed with the support of family, long distance friends and those very few that live close by. We got through the hardest parts, and now have moved on. These last few paragraphs can serve as a reminder to others that strength comes from inside and help comes from very few.

The walks!

From one day to the next….the dam yesterday above and today.

I love how the mist is drawn upwards from the water.

And how the sun hits the sides of some things that would go unnoticed.

And my shadow at the turn around and head back place.

The color disappearing from the trees.

But back home the color on the ground.

All the water hyacinth and fallen leaves have been removed from the pond now. It has become a reflection pool for the rest of the year.

I did more drawing in the bird stories book.

And the chickadee now has a nest and some patchwork next to it. Tomorrow I might get to filling in the background with stitch.

Yesterday I had lunch with two friends at what used to be the Blue Ridge Mountain Coffee and Grille where we had breakfast every Sunday morning and I tore the paper napkin wrappers into all sorts of things to then turn into books and stories. It has changed, like most things. The food was better than I remember. Maybe next time I will take myself there for breakfast and see if they have a waffle or pancakes. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? A table in the corner with a plate of something ready for butter and syrup!

Patrick comes Monday to have Thanksgiving with me and pack up more of his dad’s tools from the shop and lumber that the two of them had plans for. He will make the mantle for my new house before he packs up and heads back home hauling a trailer behind. Then Christmas another load, and then wait until I sell this house just before my new one is finished.

I am looking forward to the newness of things ahead.

Tomorrow I will go back to the river for a walk and stop for a very good skim milk latte with lavender. Such a treat!

The nurse just called to say Lee’s doctor approved a more calming sedative for his shower days to prevent harm to his nurses and himself. Dementia is a cruel disease for all involved.

Til later….