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.
Stop scratching your screen—it won’t make the scent of the lilacs come alive.
“Lilac” and “lavender” —two words for light purple with origins in very scented flowers, both in bloom at the same time in my yard.
Dutch iris all around my yard, and just a few with the yellow parts; not my favorite, but certainly nothing to ignore!
This one was falling over, so Trail Guy picked it, added fairy lanterns to the vase, and put it on the kitchen window sill.
This is a tiny weed/wildflower down the street; this is the first year I’ve noticed it.
Lemon geranium was taking over the herb garden chair. Too bad you can’t smell this.
I pruned it, and then put many clippings in pots to root and share with friends.
It makes a little pink flower. If it doesn’t look like a normal geranium to you, that is because this is a true geranium, not a pelargonium. (As if you care. . .)
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.)
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.
Instead of doing his business, this tom kept stepping on the hen’s tail while strutting around.
Bird’s Eye Gilia
Ithuriel’s Spear
Middle Fork of the Kaweah
Jackson, you will miss sleeping at my feet while I paint. No more campouts, you delinquent! You’d better be around when I come home.
Pretty Face
North Fork of the Kaweah
North Fork of the Kaweah River with Blossom Peaks in the distance.
White Crown Sparrow
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.
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.
A couple of weeks ago, a friend and I decided to ride bikes in Lemon Cove, because there are flat roads down there. We parked at the Lemon Cove Woman’s Club (I think that is the odd way the name is spelled), and we were just slayed by the orange blossom scent and the incredible Lady Banks rose at the clubhouse.
As wonderful as it all was, it was still a workday, so we headed back up the hill (in a car with a bike rack—remember, we were seeking flat roads to ride.)
Kaweah Arts sold a painting on their opening weekend, and I needed to replace it.
Sequoia Siblings, 6×18″
No, really, it will be good!
It was a bit of an overcast and chilly day, so I moved into the studio to begin a commissioned pencil drawing. (I’ll tell you more about this one later, as the details unfold.)
After studying 5 not-so-great photos, I made 3 sketches for the customer to determine if I could capture the Minnesota cabin for her parents’ anniversary gift. Then, I lost the sketches. Good thing I scanned them —HEY! I BET THEY ARE IN MY SCANNER!!
YIPPEE SKIPPEE, SURE ENOUGH THEY WERE!
Alrighty then, let’s just calm down. I worked off the laptop to start the drawing (because I couldn’t find the sketches).
About an hour later of checking angles, drawing, measuring, erasing, and repeating the dance several times, I ended up with this mighty impressive foundational drawing.
Gotta draw the dog before you draw the fleas. . . and this dog has many challenges. Never fear—I am up to the task.
For some reasons, I couldn’t scrape up appropriate photos for this month’s Learned List. So, let’s enjoy a few photos that Trail Guy took on a recent walk.
John Bray Estates is a website for luxury coastal property in Cornwall, England. If you like to look at homes, both inside and outside, this site is like See’s Candy to a sugar addict.
Skills Millennials Won’t Use is quite entertaining. There are things I’ve thought about for awhile, such as the ability to drive a three pedal car, reading a face clock, dialing a telephone, reading a map. There are other things that I agree with—not liking meatloaf or jello, not using paper napkins. There are things that surprised me—not wearing Crocs was the largest. Enjoythis list! It is very long—almost 200 items!
I read this quote in the memoir Driving Hungry by Layne Mosler: “A rich man isn’t the one who has the most; he is the one who needs the least”. By that definition, I am very wealthy!
The two most common reasons for neuropathy are unmanaged diabetes and back trouble. I have neither, so the mystery and saga of my feet continues. . . (what I learned is that my back is fine).
Surgery is very stressful; I had the privilege of sitting with a dear friend while waiting for a delicate surgery on her husband. We simply chatted about this and that, nothing too heavy or scary or formal. She hadn’t asked me to be with her, but I insisted, because I knew in my gut that this was scarier than they made it out to be. We both learned that the presence of a friend is a valuable comfort even when it wasn’t requested. I also learned how much I truly care about these friends.
A thymoma is a tumor on the thymus gland; it is better than thymic carcinoma. I would like to not know this, but a dear friend is now experiencing it, so here we are, learning about unwelcome health troubles.
Have you ever had rutabaga? We got a couple and didn’t know what they were. A friend enlightened us, and I cooked them without any idea of how they would be, figuring anything is good if you add enough butter. Turns out they are actually quite good for you, sort of a mashed potato substitute with fewer carbohydrates and lots of good nutrients.
There is a website which summarizes non-fiction books in 5 bullet points. It is free, because they make their money by people ordering off Amazon through their site. It has the weird name of BookPecker.My hope is that it will speed up my journey through my To-Be-Read towers of book.
Goodbye, March! You are the Most Beautiful Month, and we will miss your weather and your colors.
One day I had a bunch of things to juggle, beginning with a “telehealth” appointment. I stared at the landline off and on for 2 hours before giving up.* Rural clinics run by large corporations are bastions of bureaucratic inefficiency and incompetence.
I called a friend who knows people and how to get stuff done. Within an hour, I was at another doctor’s office, and within another hour, I had the promise of a referral that I was seeking. (my feet. . . sigh.) It was a quaint old building with interesting details.
Then I raced to a place where I could get cuttings of myoporum, an easy-to-transplant groundcover. Next, I met the piano tuner at church, and planted some greenery while I waited for Mr. Tuner to do his magic. The two redbud trees that Trail Guy and I planted last fall are in bloom now!
I also fielded a few phone calls and texts. FOUR close friends are dealing with difficult situations right now, and it is good to check in with them (a newly deceased parent, a husband with delicate surgery, a friend with a disruptive cancer diagnosis, a husband with a substance problem). I didn’t talk to all of them, but was alert for any incoming requests for a listening ear or a praying heart. At the same time, I was coordinating with Kaweah Arts Nancy, to deliver merchandise for her opening at the new location. PLUS, I was helping her connect with the piano tuner, because she is also responsible for the Remorial** Building here in town and has an event coming soon that requires a tuned instrument.
The piano got tuned, the calls made, the paintings delivered, and I came home. There was time to admire this dragon arum calla lily. (It seems early this year.)
Too jeezled up to paint any serious details, I sat with lists, canvases, hanging hardware, tools, and stacks of photos, making decisions about what to paint for the Silver City Store in the summer. This is how that process looks. (The jar contains those little moisture absorbing packets that come with each canvas, saved because someone told me they are handy if a cell phone gets wet—may I never need to know this experientially.)
I had made a list of subjects and sizes and ordered canvases for the missing sizes. I pulled out the canvases that were available, and began choosing the right photos, adding hardware and inventory numbers. It was a rough-ish day, so I didn’t trust myself with titles other than the obvious, such as “Sawtooth #49”. I had no idea if that is the right number of times I’ve painted Sawtooth, so I made it up; later I went through my list of Sawtooth paintings and learned there have been 57 other paintings of this iconic Mineral King landmark. (Yes, I changed this one to “Sawtooth #58”.)
I thought the decisions were good ones, but then started doubting some of the sizes and some of the subjects. How many people actually hike to White Chief and then patronize the Silver City Store? Not as many as those who walk on the Nature Trail! So why was I planning two paintings of White Chief and none of the Nature Trail? Recalculating. . .
The next day without time wasted staring at the phone waiting for a phone call that never comes, racing down the hill to a clinic, meeting a piano tuner, transplanting, or coordinating merchandise drop off (but not a day where I don’t check in with dear friends who are on the struggle bus), I hope to finish the details on 3 paintings for the fall show at CACHE, and then begin the first layer on nine new paintings of Mineral King.
Lord willing, the creek, etc. (Read James 4:13-15, if you are so inclined. . .)
*The doc NEVER CALLED, and then the clinic had the audacity to send me a reprimanding letter titled “Missed Appointment Letter”. Believe me, they will be receiving a reply, and I had better not receive a bill!!
**The way our neighbor taught us to say “Memorial” when she was about 9 years old.
In the middle of a day of painting, I took a short walk.
Last year at this time, we were preparing for a wedding. I spent a fair amount of time preparing the yard where the wedding was to take place. This year I revisited the site, and the cows remembered me. When they saw I was weeding a little bit, they came to the fence to ask for treats.
These are some of the weeds I pulled to feed the beeves. They could also be considered wildflowers
This one was the most assertive.
Since it was a workday, I didn’t linger, but I did enjoy more wildflowers on the stroll back to the easels.
Redbud is actually pink, or magenta, or purplish pink, not red.
This is a bonus post, because I got up too early this morning and have many non-work-related thoughts. No reason, no point, just sharing a mental ramble…
Reading Rabbit, AKA Salt & Light
I just read a memoir (currently my favorite genre) titled “Holy Ghost Girl“. Holy cow, holy guacamole. I believe in the God’s healing power but am very appalled over the mess that these so-called healers make of their lives.
I just listened to a three-part series of sermons by Jack Hibbs on UFOs. Again, all I can say is holy cow and holy guacamole.
These aren’t holy cows. I don’t know what a holy cow actually factually is, other than perhaps the ones that wander the streets of cities in India.
It is raining today, which I hope will prolong the greenery and wildflowers that make March such a fabulously beautiful month in Three Rivers.
The annual studio tour is this weekend. It used to be exclusively a Three Rivers event, happening every 2 years. After it went county-wide, things changed in a manner that caused me to opt out. I hope it is successful for those who are participating, in spite of the rain. I am NOT participating.
This is a fairly outdated image of The Dome, taken as a screenshot from Google Maps.
Kaweah Arts has reopened in the building known as The Dome, 42249 Sierra Drive. I delivered a load of new paintings, along with previously shown paintings, notecards, coloring books, and The Cabins of Wilsoniabooks, but haven’t been inside the premises yet.
Some dear friends have been through a difficult time recently, so when they said they were bringing lunch over yesterday, we just put everything else aside to enjoy a few hours together on a perfect spring afternoon.
My neuropathy is not from diabetes, chemotherapy, or a back problem. It is time to see a neurologist, not in the Central Valley, and I continue to await the arrival of a referral so I can move onward with this unsolved mystery.
A dear friend has a weird cancer. I hate this. Undoubtedly, she hates it more.
The redbud trees are in bloom in Three Rivers. They look like Chinese tallow, but they are either Western redbud (native), or Eastern redbud (native somewhere else.) Western redbud are shrub-like with many branches originating at ground level; Eastern grow like a tree from a single trunk. Or perhaps Eastern are just pruned that way; maybe Western could be forced into a single trunk tree-like formation. (These are speculations from a sleep-deprived mind.)
It’s kind of hard to focus on painting when this is outside the door.
Apparently, I’m not the only creature to appreciate spring in Three Rivers.
This little herd is just one body short of a baseball team. It looks as if this is a deer park, rather than my lawn. Actually, it isn’t even a lawn; we stopped watering it a decade or more ago. Water costs too much here. I love it green, but I’d have to work more and sell more instead of staring at the deer if I wanted to keep it like this through the summer.
Besides, lawn mowers will be outlawed in California in 2025. . . we don’t want to wear ours out if there can be no replacing it. (California is a special kind of stupid.)
We’ll look at the oil painting aspect of my life in the next post.
