hanging around, getting into mischief

The correct term for a flock is a "rafter" of turkeys

but a gobble of turkeys sound better
I step outside and at the first noise of the door, the wild turkey flock burst into gobbles. It is so instant that it seems automatic. The sound is one sound...every gobble at the same time. I stay quiet for a second and then gobble back. Again the loud gobble from the flock…it interests me how quick the response is so I keep playing the game until I tire of it….easily amused am I.
The only thing I can relate this response to is when you see a flock of birds wheeling in the sky…the turns they make are so together you wonder who the leaders are…the turkey gobble from the whole flock is that quick…..ok….enough I guess…it’s just fascinating how it works.
We are routinely having flocks of 40 to 50 birds gather by the garage door calling for Jack to come out and feed them. He’s really feeding the other birds but the turkeys get their fill too. Sometimes another flock waits on the slope above the driveway, as you see in the picture. There is a hierarchy…a pecking order and woe to the bird who steps out of line, or the flock who wants their share and dares to come too close.
We have far too many turkeys here. They were introduced to this area and have become a nuisance. I think the only enemies they have are the rare wandering dog and the raccoons and they can only hurt the eggs or very young poults.

The flock tear up the ground with their big strong feet…they pick at all the plants even though they don’t want to eat them. They pick my iris blossoms to death before they ever open, and scratch out any sedum I plant.
When we first moved here I liked to see them come around the house because I’d never seen wild turkeys before. I was surprised to see how well they fly, even the babies. At fourteen days the chicks have strong wing and tail feathers and fly up onto the fence around our back yard.

We have two hunting dogs inside the fence and each has caught a wild turkey a couple of times. There is a suspicious amount of large feathers laying out there right now.
Except for their ugly heads, they are beautiful birds…their feathers gleam in bronzes,blues,greens and rust.......shimmering colors like oil on water.

Benjamin Franklin wanted the wild turkey to be the nation’s bird instead of the eagle. In a letter to his daughter he trashed the eagle as a bird of low character while of the turkey he said, “a true original Native of America... He is besides, though a little vain & silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on."
I can’t imagine a turkey attacking. It’s taken years for me to get within ten feet of them without them running off.
Actually, the gobbler in all his courting glory would make a great patriotic picture because his head is bright red white and blue.

Old Glory

Oregon Junco
watercolor on 140lb hotpress watercolor paper

Redwing Blackbird

watercolor on 140lb hotpress watercolor paper

I found a nest like this once, and wondered in awe how the little mother recognized the reeds that were close enough to use...and how she kept the first grasses in place as she started to weave...and do the fathers know how to weave?

The day before Thanksgiving 2009...and this year it means nothing to me. Relatives aren't around...I'm just over an illness....things are peaceful and that's the way it will be tomorrow...peaceful and turkeyless...by choice. I've had many a year of full sized dinners stuffed with relatives...and mostly my giving. The younger generation works full time and can't cook anyway...haha. I'm afraid if they gave a dinner it would be tv dinners.
My turkeys always had the stuffing inside...which doesn't seem to be the popular thing these days....might get sick or something. Also, turkeys are cooked breast down these days...and have been for a few years but not when I started. Then I heard two more new things, (to me)
The first was a cooking show discussion on the best roasting pan to have...They had four...a $200 one...a$100 one...an $80 one and a cheap one for $50...ahh me. I won't bore you with the discussion and which one won or why....In the beginning I used to use a blue and white speckled roaster that was closer to fifty cents than fifty dollars and the turkey was great. Later, I used just the broiler pan and the little V shaped holder that turkeys rest in. Worked great.
The second new thing discussed the fact that the white meat and the dark meat needed different cooking times...the white meat a lower temp...so the plan was to line a huge bowl with bags of ice and put the turkey in upside down so the breast meat was resting on the ice. Then they put a bag of ice into the turkey cavity and another into the neck cavity. They left the turkey cooling until the white meat was 36 degrees...Then into the oven...and the two types of meat were supposed to come out perfectly. Well.....a lotta trouble unless all this works makes you supremely happy.

Hope your Thanksgiving is/or was just the way you want it...ours will be.

first pencil I could grab...paper out of printer... bird sketches.....
One of an Oregon junco...a little black headed, pink sided, seedeater that lives year round in large parts of Oregon...usually stays in flocks...happy little birdies...at least they make people happy to see them flitting around. I want to do a water color of the bottom sketch tomorrow for a card. I remember my first biology class in college...I was excited to be able to learn the names of all the little birds in my yard....then I discovered the teacher called them all dickey birds. I was flabbergasted...some education...haha.

This is all the art I did today...has not been a blue ribbon day. First, I didn't sleep a wink last night, so I couldn't make it to the computer club meeting this morning.....I guess the social committee went all out and it was decorated in Halloween splendor.....with lots of candy and goodies...dang. The 50/50 was the largest in months...almost 75 dollars which I'm sure I'd have won if I'd been there...haha.
Then Jack comes home from shopping at Costco and he had a $450 dollar ticket because his handicap parking ticket expired 4 days ago....yikes...He can appeal, but not in town. It was another county so he has to go there and only on certain days. In finding that out, he discovered his driving licence had expired too...we didn't get the heads up they usually mail out. Anyway, this time he has to have proof he's not a terrorist or alien so he digs out his birth certificate...which of course they won't accept. It's signed by everybody but the angels and has a huge gold seal of approval....but that's not good enough for them. Nor the fact that he's held a valid licence in this state for over fifty years.
So he contacts...or tries to contact the city and building where they are keeping something better for him....but got lost in the telephone maze when he had to start typing his name...backwards...Hentges, G, John using the key pad. He did learn it would cost $20 to get this copy even though I think no person will be involved....he didn't have anyone on the phone...just numbers. I think they'll accept all the info...then call up the copy from the basement...send it out via email, all electronically......and collect twenty bucks...I don't know....I'm going to do it for him tomorrow on the internet.
So, then I went down to the DMV to find out what I would need although I don't need to renew for five years. They didn't like my birth certificate either....that precious little piece of yellow paper with the seal and the signatures of my oh so young mother and father...the paper I've been guarding for over half a century...nope...ain't worth nuthin' lady. BUT...I have a passport so naah naah naah.
There's more but I'm tired of talking about it....I want to go back to the fifties thank you.....or back to bed might do, too.

colored pencil on 140lb hotpress watercolor paper .

..couldn't get it all on scanner.
Billie Jean
Billie Jean is up for adoption but you have to go to Arkansas to get her.

3 overripe bananas means banana nut bread.
what's not good for you? eggs...bananas...milk...nuts...

I cut a slice into quarters because no one has ever been able to find any calories in such a tiny piece, so it's safe to eat.

come on over

graphite on watercolor hotpress

Perfect day today. Did exactly what I wanted to while it drizzled outside. Messed around...watched my soaps...drew this horse....made a carrot and raisen salad, pea soup, and cornbread for dinner.

They tell you to learn when to quit on a drawing, but on a pencil drawing I don't want to quit. How simple my life would be if I'd rid myself of all my colored pencils and watercolors and simply worked with a pencil...it's my favorite.

I get so irritated with Blogger. So many times I can't access my blog to work on it. They throw me on a page to begin a new blog and they won't take my password. Don't ever ask them what your password is unless you're a whole lot smarter than the average bear. Finally after about the 15th time, using the same password, they let me in. Fie on them! A hex on them! May bleach splash on all their clothes tomorrow.

colored pencil on lordyknowwhat

done many a year ago and never dated

This was done for a children's book I had in mind. Several...many postings ago I talked about some Canadian Geese I was privileged to help raise and I thought it would make a great story....I had tons of pix of the geese...and the story had a great beginning, middle, and end.

I did three illustrations and couldn't do any more.

I've always wanted to illustrate children's books and it was painful to finally realize I just didn't have the stick-to-it-iveness to do a big project. Well...sticking to it wasn't the problem...it was just total lack of interest...it just disappeared.

The babies' nest was ruined and the survivors hatched under a blackberry bush in the rain...after the eggs had rolled down a bank. This picture was to illustrate a bedraggled baby. I look at it now and want to get going on it again.

It's been at least ten years, and if I had finished only one picture a year I'd be almost done.

Like Gilda Radner said, "I base most of my fashion taste on what doesn't itch."..........hmm, naah, that doesn't fit.

How about when she said, "I'd much rather be a woman than a man. Woman get to wear cute clothes and be first rescued off a sinking ship."....nope...still not right.

How about, "Dreams are like paper, they tear so easily".

graphite and colored pencil on Bristol
Charme
This is a Haflinger mare who lives with Gail at
http://gailatthefarm.blogspot.com/
Since she is a much loved pet who receives a lot of attention, and a horse I've never seen, I hope this drawing isn't too far off.

There are many horse stories from around the world telling when and where a certain group of people first saw these animals, and one of my favorites is about Egypt and the Hyksos.
Hyksos is just a name given these Asiatic people who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. They swarmed over the hills and descended down on the quiet peaceful people living along the Nile. And the startling thing was they drove horses pulling chariots.
The Egyptians had never seen a chariot, a horse, nor the composite bow used to kill them. While ducking the arrows from this modern war bow, the survivors fell in love with the horses..... who wouldn't? .....(well, my husband wouldn't) and they eventually learned to handle both horse and chariot better than the Hyksos.
So, although the Hyksos stayed to rule the land for awhile, I think the Egyptians came out ahead.
I wish someone would write an historical novel about this period of time. The wonder and amazement of seeing their first horse ever...plus chariots, probably fastened the Egyptians to the sand, their mouths open in awe and wonder, making the invasion a slam dunk.
I'm guessing now....(I know more about the Hyksos than the historians do...haha.)

colored pencil on hot press watercolor paper
Wanda
This drawing is really twice as big...includes another window and much more of the couch, but I couldn't stand to put down one more pencil stroke I was so sick of it. I should know by now I cannot do big pieces...I don't have the patience...already I'm thinking about the next drawing and my fingers are itching to get at it....and my mind has left this one. After a couple of things are done...like the face and the folds...and they turn out ok, then the rest is just work. You don't think Michelangelo painted the whole Sistine Chapel do you? ha! He finished up those pesky cherub eyes and the peons filled in the rest....(hang around for more history facts)

When I was fifteen I had a cat named Cinderella. A few days before Cindy was to have her first litter of kittens she began looking for a place to have them. I thought it was curious and interesting how she went about it.
She searched every nook and cranny for the best nesting place. If I opened a dresser drawer and turned my back she'd be up in it, rooting around. "Oh, no you don't", I'd tell her, putting her back down on the floor. But if my bedroom was where she wanted to be, so be it, and I put a box, with a bit of a blanket, near the dresser.
But off she bounced to investigate the yard... flowery corners or dark caves under bushes.....and I followed with the nursery box. There didn't seem to be any pattern to the places she scoped out. And I patiently...well, scratch that...not so patiently followed with my box.
One day I came home from school...no Cindy...and I knew she had finally had her babies....I looked everywhere.....ev ver ree where.
It was my mother who finally found her. Cindy had those babies in an open keg of nails out in the garage....right on the nails!
Mommy and babies were just fine. We transferred them to the back porch, but she moved them again back to the garage... not the keg.
Eventually I won, and she stayed on the back porch.
She definitely was not the sharpest nail in the keg.

a gray day...rain is pattering in the bird bath, but my new yellow chrysanthemums are shining out like sun in the garden. A little red headed woodpecker is hanging upside down on the suet feeder filling his little gullet with fat for the cold weather. I'm home alone. I feel like making oatmeal cookies.
Nuts, raisens, cinnamon, cloves, eggs, brown sugar, rolled oats...what's not good for you?
Fun to make...too bad I have to throw them all out.
(You certainly weren't planning on eating them, were you Pat?)
Shall I eat
or shall I not
I knew the rules
But I forgot

Joanie
colored pencil on Bristol Board

It's been a week since I've posted...I can't believe I can't chatter more than that.

Jack and I were at Costco many years ago and we wandered over to Pier One. I fell in love with this red plush throw and a matching pillow..doesn't exactly fit anywhere in my life, but it was perfect to put Joanie on for a drawing. (It doesn't really have tassels.)

Our fall is really here now and it's great! A little rain, a lot of sun...cooler weather...pumpkins, gourds, yellow leaves, dried corn stalks and WalMart full of Halloween. No store does holidays like WalMart. They are training people to not even bother to look elsewhere...they have it covered. Aisles full of little kids trying on costumes...shelves full of wonderful ghoulish things. I reached out to touch one item and a hand slapped mine...haha...I really jumped. I can't remember the item, it was last year, but I think it was some kind of candy dish guarded by a witch's hand.

pencil on hot press watercolor


I don't think I've posted this picture before. I try not to post pictures of my great granddaughter, otherwise that's all this would be...her picture album.
Anyway, this is the first time she was placed on a saddle and I love her cowgirl grip...haha. Two crossed fingers. Obviously this child inherited no cowgirl genes....(or else she's destined to be a talented trick rider) Well, her mother warned me she would be raised as a city child.

I just got in from wading in my little fishpond, scooping out the pine needles, which are still falling so hard they were hitting me on the back as I worked....but, I couldn't wait any longer...pond was getting choked. These are the three prong, long Jeffrey pine needles which invariably get hooked on things...all the greenery in the pond....so it was a hand picking operation.

Jeffrey pine needles

I got my soil analysis back. Soil is too acid for most flowers...low in potassium...and lacking compost and fertilizer. But it's not that simple...flowers which shouldn't be blooming are, and visa versa...Good grief. I'm not going to start pouring good money into this plot of soil. This was supposed to be a fun little hobby. So, I'm going to plant only what grows well. If I really want a certain plant that doesn't like it here, I will plant it in a container with potting soil.

I would love to be spading in chicken or cow manure for compost but my dogs would dig every single plant up, sure there was a dead animal down there somewhere.

Decisions, decisions. Today is the first day I've said to myself, ok, I'll get a new knee. I had a left knee put in several years ago, but now I need a new right knee. I'm tired of walking in pain. I hate the idea of the risk of an operation and infection, death and worse, and also the painful therapy...but, I'll bite the bullet and do it. Just not yet...haha. The idea has to soak into every gene in my body.

colored pencil on something or other
done two years ago when Bingo was a pup and didn't have the feathers he has today...He was in the middle of obedience training, thus the command to "Stay" as he tries to step out of the picture.

Bingo today

up on my soap box, or blog box, with a little ranting. A friend of mine was walking her little chihuahua, Bingo, down the sidewalk. They passed a young girl sitting in her yard with her arms around her pet pit bull. She released an arm to wave and the dog dashed to the sidewalk and grabbed Bingo. Much screaming from everyone...Bingo was rescued and seemed ok....but the next day was shivering and giving little yelps when touched, so off to the vet where they discovered two puncture wounds and much bruising.


Next day my friend walked down the opposite side of the street. The mother came out and crossed to talk to her, giving her the standard pit bull owner rhetoric..."She's never done that before...She's so sweet...I'm amazed she would do that...I just don't know what happened.....blah blah blah.
It's so irresponsible to have a pit bull, not leased or fenced, in a residential neighborhood with people..and kids..walking by....(aside from the fact it's against the law.)
I read just the other day, some dog lover saying, "There's no such think as a bad dog, just a bad owner." That is so not true.
Hunting dogs hunt without being trained...retrievers retrieve, shepherds herd, and fighting dogs attack other dogs, period. They are bred that way and can't be trusted.
Ok, got that off my chest.

watercolor on 140 lb Arches



scribble picture..pen and charcoal on Bristol
looks much better enlarged, (click on it) while I, on the other hand would look much better made smaller....how nice if a double click would take care of that, too.

Got in a housekeeping mood today and did things you do only if it's spring, or you're pregnant....neither possible.

Am forced to read a Danielle Steele book today, and we are not amused.

Drug out my guitar today, dusted it off and am staring at it....do I really want to go through the pain of developing callouses on my tender fingers again? Maybe. It pleases me much to sit and strum and sing ballads to myself...If I lived in New Orleans, I'd sit on a corner and do that...so many people do, no one would notice another little old lady, and someone might actually toss a quarter into my shoe. What fun. All you need to know is G, C, D, E and A....and have a lot of nerve...haha. You should hear me belt out Love, Oh Love Oh Careless Love.....or not.

Better I should paint gerainiums on the guitar and forget about it.
Better still if I just go to bed and quit nattering on...ciao

colored pencil on Bristol board

Lazing around in a recliner for a month, staring at the ceiling does not inspire blog writing..but I'm now getting interested in things again...feel chatty today.

I bought a new, violet, velvety neck pillow...one of those U shaped supports for your neck. It made me think of the little, seemingly inconsequential things that are super important to you.

I wish I had one of those things on my plane trip from hell. Three seats in a row at the windows, and I was in the middle. Huge plane...long, long flight....after hours and hours and hours the toilets were full...How could that be...aren't some things illegal? I thought they dumped that stuff over Iowa or some place....(to fertilize the corn...haha) I payed plenty for that trip...big modern jet...boy, was I naive. I got so bored and soooo tired. Couldn't walk to get my legs circulating...aisles were too narrow and too busy. Could Not sleep...shoulders pressing me on both sides...my poor head lolling back and forth. I really needed a velvet violet neck pillow then, or even a black scratchy one. And of course they lost my luggage. I'm not sure I've ever been on a flight that didn't...but then I don't fly often. I did learn to tuck a nightgown and tooth brush in my purse.

Second thing I never want to do without is my hot water tap. The first one I ever saw was my mom's. She went on and on about it....yeah, yeah, mom..(sweet old ladies love their instant tea) Well, I take that all back...I hope I never have to do without my instant hot water tap...a required tool of modern life.

I was going to say the third little thing I never wanted to do without was electric windows in a car, but I have been lately and life goes on...haha. Jack has the van but I chose a little white pickup...plain jane...no additives...and right now it has muddy raccoon prints going doing the windshield and I've been reluctant to wash them off....reminds me of living out remote instead of boring here. Of course boring is in the mind isn't it?...I should never say that again.I should go out and make myself like this boring old place...haha.

c

Sweet Basil
colored pencil on Bristol board

Basil is all grown up now..he's my granddaughter's cat.

I started a watercolor demonstration here...autumn leaves scattered on the ground......it was fun...started out with the sketches, cut up all the leaf pix and taped them in various positions ...arrangingarranging...then the time consuming task of taking the pix...lighting wasn't good...and on and on...finally I ruined the actual watercolor.....well, I whiled away an afternoon...haha
My art room is downstairs...and when Jack asks me where I'm going I usually say, "downstairs to ruin a picture"

What I should have done is posted the whole thing and then showed a different picture at the end...that's how it goes a lot of the time anyway...but I wasn't amused at the time, and didn't come up with an amusing ending.

I tried to do it too fast...I was just reading PERPETUAL CHOCOHOLIC 's blog, where she is giving a lesson in colored pencils...drawing an apple...and she said it was too daunting to put the whole lesson on at once....should have read her blog first.

Now I'm going to do it backwards....have the final picture in my hand before I show how it came to be. That's what they tell you about writing too....have your ending before you begin...good advice for me...I can think up all the characters...all the situations...but never come to a conclusion....maddening.
Speaking of writing reminds me of when I was still in my twenties...I had a few articles published in magazines....one was of a neophyte trying to ride her too-much-horse-for-her article..(true story) .....Another was an article on breast feeding. It was back when the saying "Happiness is...." was popular and my article was called Happiness is a Fifth of Carnation...published in a Carnation milk publication....a house organ.
It was written in an article writing class I was taking at Clark College in Vancouver, WA. I had no idea what I was going to write. Your grade was based on you writing an article, and sending it in....if it was published, well you aced the course.
Week after week I listened to the teacher and couldn't come up with an idea...but a gal in the front row was bugging me to death. She went on and on about her article which would be on the benefits of breast feeding...how wonderful it was....how you couldn't consider anything else. Week after week she obnoxiously yammered about the poor children who were denied this treat...making it sound like they would wind up in reform school with rickets.
Well...my children weren't breast fed. It wasn't even talked about....I came out of the anesthetic already bound tightly, and I unquestioningly swallowed my meds which were drying up pills...(I was so innocent it's unbelievable)
But I figured my kids were as healthy as hers and finally I had had it with her....I was going to write an article on Not breast feeding.
I was really jazzed about it...and started researching....ha! Nothing out there to support my theory...well, almost nothing....so I shamelessly began dirty tricks. If a doctor had a quote saying, "Breast feeding is best for babies, but in the event that isn't possible, formulas are great."....I would dissect his quote and come up with, ".....formulas are great."
Oh my....I filled a whole article with this kind of writing...I had a lot of funny things in it, too....and it just flowed off my fingertips onto the typewriter keys. Sent it in....had it published...Carnation was only too glad. Not a lie in it...but oh, the fudging.
Miss Obnoxious in the writing class never wrote a single word.....she just talked the talk.......as a matter of fact I was the only one published.
What's the moral?...hmmm...
no morals in this story...haha....
or don't tick off Pat...
or better yet, don't believe anything you read.

Holland Isla

I think my pilot light is out...my leg is healing from my fall but I don't want to do anything....and I don't want to do anything about not wanting to do anything...

34.

pencil on Bristol Board
baby Blue Jay used to have a mother but after drawing her three times I told her to take a hike and I'd watch him myself.

Today's weather was just lovely...and my leg hurt a teeny bit less so I guess things are ok.

33.
below is the art challenge from http://rosy-artblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-art-challenge-time.html
She offered three pix to use for artwork, and I chose her cute mom Juanita.
Sorry, Juanita, that I couldn't quite nail it, but it was fun trying.

Bummer week...recuperating from my fall...on pain pills that just take the edge off...lotsa napping..using cane...not wanting to do anything.
Better today but not walking around.
Perusing through the photo album, came across a favorite pix of mine taken in about 1932 of my mother in law, Ethel. I always liked her hairdo and the dress...so I sketched it....Then I came upon a picture of me taken sixty some years later with the same hairstyle.
Well, I guess there's only so many ways a gal can wear her hair.
Hurts to sit here so gotta go....but hurts to sit there, too.

31,
Had an adventure today. I was in the dog kennels washing out their water pails when I tripped on the hose and fell down.
Shock...pain...Sally took off, but Bekka stayed and barked and growled...she was locked behind a gate so she had freedom to the yard but not to me.
I lay there tensing this muscle and that...trying to determine the damage....nothing broken.
I just leaned against the fence, still gasping...hose running all over the place, when it dawned on me I couldn't get up.
First time in my life that I fell and was helpless.
First shock...pity...desperation, and finally anger.
Jack wasn't home.
Usually I get on my knees and get up, but my knees were scraped, bleeding, and bruised and one was already double size. And, there was no grass...only concrete and gravel.
A bleeding gash on my arm...from the fence, I guess, though I don't know how.
Everything hurt...ankles, wrists, shoulders, side. What in the devil was I going to do...
I decided to get to the front porch steps. I knew I could turn backwards and hoist myself up on the first step with my arms, grab the rail and stand up....but the steps were across the yard....gravel driveway all the way.
Ok...just do it!
I fanny bumped my self along...the heels of my hands bleeding from the rocks...my clothes slowly shredding.
shut up and just do it!
bump...slide...bump...slide...
Four feet from the step, and Jack pulled into the driveway.
There I sat in the middle of the driveway smiling at him...(to show absolutely nothing was wrong, just bumping along for the fun of it....dang...I had wanted to be on my feet and cleaned up when he got home.
Funny how much worse you feel with sympathy....
We got into the house, pulled off my wet, dirty, torn clothes...grabbed a clean mumu and the disinfectant and a towel...and collapsed into a chair.
He brought me a full glass of wine.
That was four hours ago and oh my...my nose is the only place not aching...but I am so happy nothing was broken.

30.

colored pencil on off white bristol,
too large for scanner
When Beans, (pinto) and her twin foals came racing into the ranch with the rest of the band my jaw literally dropped. I hadn't seen her up close for about a year...watched from the hill with the glasses, checking up on the herd, but hadn't noticed from that distance she was expecting.
She came tearing down off the hill, head high, proud as a peacock, and who could blame her. Two spotted babies marked every bit as pretty as she was raced along side her....god I hope they hadn't inherited any of their witchy mother's tendencies. She was the most godawful horse I ever owned, bar none.
Would not be tamed, period. Kicked down every fence I put her behind...she wound up living in the bull pen....she couldn't faze the logs that fence was made of. I should have gotten rid of her a long time ago, but she was so pretty I just liked looking at her.
I hurried down to the pens to get a closer look at the newest addition to the horse band. (excerpt from Pony Crossing..which will never be finished, I'm afraid.....ahh me...so much to do, and soaps to watch, too)

cradle boards are art work to me, and to many Native Americans. I started a color book of the different styles...but the book was longer than my span of attention so it languishes, crying to be finished.

This drawing isn't typical of the color book drawings...they are straight line drawings with designs to color.

I contacted Martha Berry, a Cherokee bead work artist for information and she told me that the Cherokees didn't use cradle boards...interesting. I haven't looked into how they contained their babies but will.

I like the idea of making everyday utensils artwork. Harpoons and kayak paddles decorated with charms for good hunting...cradleboards with beadwork beckoning the good spirits. Everyday clothing made of bright colors and designs....not cool, I guess.

28.

slowly floating up out of a black place, I see gray......no sunlight, but somewhere light is finding its way in....I come up from two days with the blanket over my head, and wander out into the yard looking for a reason to hang around. A little gray lizard stopped to talk to me...he asked to be painted sky blue...he never wanted to be gray in the first place...

Tell me about it, I say.

Great, a gray lizard is my muse......figures.

Not Iris, the rainbow queen, nor a bubbly water nymph, just a little gray guy.

but, I like him....he looks me in the eye and sympathizes...the least I can do is immortalize him.

Listing my blessings does not help. This is not feeling sorry for my self...this is an imbalance inherited from my family. I am middle of the road...neither the worst off of them, nor the best.

Trying to figure out why I'm hiding under his desk, the doctor asks, Does your husband abuse you? (He's constantly fiddling with his new computer.)

NO...and DO NOT ASK ME THAT AGAIN. I've told you before we're fine....but he follows the program on his computer, asking the same old questions....I flip through my magazine in the dark shadows. He never looks at me.

(Have you lost any weight?

Yes, I now weigh a hundred and three.

Good, he says, still not looking at well nourished me, and dutifully types it in.)

(in my dreams)

It is what it is

27.


colored pencil on bristol board
My favorite plant...hen and chickens

tiled in Photoshop

My garden is not doing well...it's actually only in existence because as soon as I finished making my teeny fishpond, I was still raring to go...so started a garden growing around the pond.
This is the second full year and the poor soil is doing its work. Then our week of triple digit temps curled the leaves of my poor hosta, and melted my ice plant.
About the only things doing really well are the daisies and the dragonflies.

I'll have to admit the garden looks a little lush in this picture but walk around the paths and you'll see the ailing little patients.
the little wire fence around the pond is crooked because of Bekka's constant lizard hunt....without the fence, I'd have a pond full of rocks.

Eventually, only the things that do well will remain...the survival of the fittest is my motto....I'd like to find a little garden plaque saying just that and stick it out there to give them fair warning...no wimps in my garden!
(hard woman)

26.
The Wild Geese Story
I walked past this planter this morning and the whole geese story popped into my head.
I bought this to remember them by about ten years ago.



We were living in a remote part of Oregon...big ranch country. We had a few acres carved out of all their acres.
Our nearest neighbors were Denny and Laura....Denny worked for one of the ranches.
One day while cutting a field he had to destroy a Canadian goose nest.
Only four eggs remained intact, and Denny brought them home to Laura.
After that I was over there every day so curious and delighted to be able to watch wild geese grow.

Hatching




Swimming in an old tub out in the shed.
They are two weeks old in this picture.


At four weeks they follow Laura because she was imprinted on them


Four weeks...pestering Midge who tolerated them


Four weeks...outside pool



A handful at four weeks


Six weeks...gangly...fluffy, but with emerging wing and tail feathers.
They were named now...and could be told apart by little differences.
Spring, April, May and Sunny


Eight weeks and stretching those wing


Eight weeks...all four can't fit in one pool anymore.


At maturity they were beautiful birds





Preening



Laura and I were dreading the day our children would fly away. All four were loving individuals with different personalities.

We could tell they were getting ready...they used to race across the yard,
flapping their wings...

and one day they just lifted out of the yard into the air.

It was as thrilling as when one of your children takes their first step.

From then on they flew every day, but kept in circles over their yard.

One day a hired hand drove in to the yard. In the back of his pickup was a cowdog who jumped out and somehow got in to the back yard. He lit into the startled geese and began snapping at them. Three rose into the air but poor Spring was trapped against the fence.

By this time Laura ran screaming into the back yard chasing the dog away but Spring had a broken wing.

Thoroughly traumatized, she refused to move, eat or drink for a long time....

The other three left for a year.

The season went by and then Laura and I began searching the skies for our three to return. So many things could have happened to them. They were so tame maybe they landed somewhere and someone shot them.

But...they came back! We were so thrilled. But it was just a brief visit. We'd see them circling the small valley but finally they left.

Then Laura and Denny bought a small ranch of their own, and we moved too. Laura wrote and said she never saw her babies again.

Spring lived out her days with the barnyard geese.



I painted this little oil painting for Laura before we moved.

Spring, April, May and Sunny