May Day! Happy May Day, which I think traditionally includes flowers. (Then why do captains of planes and ships yell “MAY DAY!” when they are about to crash?)
A few days before I left for Texas, I spent a day working in the yard. Whoooo-eeee, it was hard to leave home.
Tucker joined me in the herb garden. He likes to meet me there for coffee in the mornings.
Good thing it was almost dark when I left home because otherwise I might have been tempted to cancel the trip.
2. Did you know that you can substitute 1/2 milk with 1/2 yogurt for buttermilk in a recipe? (I haven’t tried it).
3. Slippers: I was sorry to see that mine were wearing through on the soles, and especially sorry to learn that the yarn for a new pair was $40. WHAT? Then I learned that they have faithfully served my feet since 2010. (Life is like a roll of toilet paper—the closer you get to the end, the faster it goes.) Finally, I learned that I cannot stop and restart the agitation segment of the cycle on our fancy washing machine (many of our appliances croaked in 2020). I also (re)learned that I am not very good at following knitting pattern directions, but once again, I got away with it. (notice the 2 new slippers don’t exactly match each other.)
4. Have you ever heard of a yogurt strainer? I hadn’t, and learned of this item on The Frugal Girl blog. It is a convenient way to drain the whey from yogurt so that you have “Greek” yogurt. (I just pour mine off as it accumulates in the pan I made it in and save it for making bread.) I am tempted by this item but my policy of no unifunction items in my kitchen keeps me from succumbing. The woman who told me about it also uses it when making lemon curd and almond millk, two items that are not on the menu here. (Here is a list of the various yogurt strainers on Amazon.)
5. Did you know that there is no cure for neuropathy, particularly idiopathic neuropathy, which means the kind for which no reason is known? Sigh. I learned this from a friend who has had it for 30 or 40 years. (I have an appointment in June with a neurologist anyway. So there.) My hands are over my ears chanting, “LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!” as I refuse to accept this information.
6. I found this book in the library in Three Rivers and checked it out because of the title. The characters were too weird for me to relate to, so I quit after the first two chapters. There are too many books that I want to read to bother with those that don’t hold my attention.
7. This is a relearn: The women’s club in Lemon Cove has the actual historical name of “Lemon Cove Woman’s Club”. Isn’t that funny? (Exactly which woman did it belong to? Did Nora Pogue Montgomery call it this because she was reluctant to give up her family home?) You can read about it here: Tulare County Treasures.
P.S. By now I’ve probably learned many more things while in Texas. Although it will still be April while I am there, I’ll probably put them in the Learned in May post. Or, in Texan, “I’m fixin’ to put them in May’s post”.
Yes, I know it is still April. Before I left for Texas, I painted this view of the Mineral King valley as it looks from the Timber Gap trail in September. The first layer was done a few days earlier, but I didn’t take any pictures.
I left it wet on the easel to put branches and greenery on the tree and sign it after I get back home.
Tomorrow: Things I Learned in April.
As I plan for the solo show at CACHE in autumn, there are a handful of paintings that I want to improve. Finesse. Polish. Tweak. Pick your word.
I love this scene! It’s one of the earlier pieces of my obsession with orange groves, foothills, and snow-covered peaks, titled “Tulare County’s Best”. Why hasn’t it sold?
I changed some of the colors and tightened some details on Alta Peak, along with making it stand out a bit more.
I painted this one with the intention of enjoying it in my dining area for awhile before putting it in the gallery (the show isn’t until mid-October). After living with it for awhile, I saw a way to make it better. So, back to the easel.
I have a few more to puzzle over and figure out how to improve. But, I’m in Texas right now, so the other Tulare County paintings will have to wait.
By the time you are reading this, I hope to be on a flight to Texas. The way flights get cancelled these days, who knows? I could be sitting in a airport, fuming. I hope you are not fuming; instead, I hope you enjoy these last photographs of the most beautiful month in my yard and around its edges a bit.
Man oh man, the hillside will be all brown and/or weed-eated by the time I get home, and the Lady Banks rose will be finished, and so will the lavender. . . it is SO HARD to leave home, especially in the spring. (But I haven’t ever visited my dear friend in Texas during the 30 years she has lived there; I always wait until she comes here for a reunion, so it is past time.)
Farewell, spring in Three Rivers; hello Texas!
Maybe. Maybe not. However, I am heading to Texas tomorrow*, and when I return, I think the green in Three Rivers will be finished, or close to it.
My dear friend the Texan and I planned this visit to coincide with the blooming of the Texas bluebonnets (a variety of lupine). I think someone miscalculated, but I didn’t want to bump my trip earlier because there was just too much to adjust, AND I didn’t want to miss spring in Three Rivers.
So, let’s just enjoy the last hurrah of spring in Three Rivers. I might post while in Texas; I might not. More will be revealed in the fullness of time.
I hate leaving but am so eager to see The Texan, another dear friend who is also a Texan, and yes, The Silos in Waco.
P.S. The Things I Learned post will appear on April 30. The Blog Equipment allows me to schedule posts ahead of time.
*Normally I would not post about being gone in real time on the World Wide Web, but the house won’t be empty so no squatters will take up residence while I’m away.
For 30 years, I have been helping people learn to draw. The classes are small: 4-8 people together for an hour per week, each one working on his own work at his own pace. It has become the highlight of my art business, a chance to connect with fabulous people, sharing tips and encouragement with one another, becoming friends, and becoming artists. Some people start out knowing a little bit, and others begin knowing nothing. All learn, except those who quit too soon.
Lessons happen on Tuesday afternoons in Exeter. My classes are full, but if four people who are all available from 1-2 p.m. get on a waiting list, I will add another class. Cost is $60 per month plus supplies. We don’t meet in December, July, or August.
Another beautiful spring day, accompanied by the desire to just be outside and pull weeds.
Nope. It’s a workday, chica.
But wait! There’s an eclipse! I joined Trail Guy for a brief look at the weirdness of shadows and light, with the help of a colander and a piece of white paper.
Back to work.
Two paintings now drying, so that tighter detail can be applied in the next session.
How about another break to enjoy the wildflowers?
Back to work.
In spite of succumbing to a few temptations, it was a very productive day. So, here is our final reward of the day.
I sure do know how to stretch a story out. . . have you noticed how many people use the cliché “long story short”, and then proceed to make a short story even longer? I am sort of doing that here, except I break it into chapters for you, because of another cliché that applies to many blog posts: TLDR (Too long, didn’t read).
Here is scanned Minnesota cabin drawing before I scrubbed it up on Photoshop Junior.
Here it is converted to gray scale with all the chuds erased and the paper color also erased. Chuds are marks on the scanning bed—this word came from the days when I worked in a frame shop. Sometimes after you’d get a piece of art all sealed up under the mat and frame and backing, with paper secured over the back, you’d flip it over and there would be a little something under the glass. My co-workers called these little somethings “chuds”.
A few more thoughts. It was a thrill to have a stranger find me over the interwebs, because people are always contacting me to say that my Google ratings are too low and that they can help me. (No thanks, you creepy Stalking Strangers; how did you find me on Google if my ratings are too low??)
The customer was a pleasure to deal with. She mailed a check when I told her that PayPal takes a bite, she replied quickly when I asked for more information, and she even marked up the photos so I would know who was on first and what was on second.
Alas, I learned something the hard way. A few months ago, I raised my prices for pencil drawings. It had been years (decades??), and it just seemed like a wise move. BUT I DIDN’T RAISE THEM ON MY WEBSITE. Sigh.
Someone could use a business manager, an administrative assistant, a Girl Friday, a right-hand man. Hmm, I guess that’s the problem: my man is left-handed!
P.S. If you are curious about my prices, you can see them here: Pencil Drawing Prices. I only show the smallest and the largest, because sometimes it is all just too much information and too much work. (I’d rather be drawing.)
The Minnesota customer replied quickly and thoroughly to my inquiry about the two different versions of the cabin. I couldn’t tell if there were actually two gable ends, slightly different, or if some changes had been made. She said the cabin has been a work in progress and changes get made regularly. The three rows of shingles beneath the upper gable window is the most current. She also sent this helpful set of color coded photos.
We had a rainy day, which is perfect for drawing. I went to the studio where the distractions are limited and the heater works well, and was psyched for a day of pencil, my favorite art medium, drawing a cabin, my favorite type of subject.
See the edge of my laptop? There is NO WAY I could have done this almost impossible drawing with this degree of detail without viewing the photos on my laptop. I lightened the shadows of the very dark places, enlarged the photos enormously, and even flipped the summer view of the gable end horizontally so I didn’t have to guess how all the angles would look. You can see the potential for tying one’s brain in a knot here:
I worked from top to bottom, left to right. This is the best method for a right-hander to not smear. (Left handers can work top to bottom, right to left.) Actually, smearing happens anyway, but it is less of a problem when the paper is covered in this systematic method.
And, I finished the drawing!
Come back tomorrow if you want to see it. Same Bat time, same Bat channel. (I never actually watched Batman because we only got 2 channels, not the third one that had Batman on.)