Not literally. Figuratively. There is a difference in these two terms despite the language butchering (figurative, not literal) that is commonplace.
Using a template to convert a book from Word to InDesign is supposed to be easy. Sure, if everything works. When does that happen??
Converting the InDesign file to a PDF for proofreading is supposed to be easy. Sure, if everything works. When does that happen?
Getting a 1099 form used to mean waiting for the mail. Now you “just log in and download and print”. Supposed to be easy. Sure, if everything works. When does that happen?
“Go digital” to get your Social Security statements—“It’s Fast, Easy, and Secure”. Easy?? Who are you kidding?
“Get 85 Free Prints A Month” from Photo Affections! It’s fast and easy! Sure, except for all the hidden prompts, tiny clever little tools to guess at, and oh, by the way, only one print per image is allowed for free.
My head is about to explode.
Let’s just look at a few photos and try to regain our balance.
The beginning of spring in my yard: flowering quince, daffodils, germander
Morning light on Comb Rocks
Presbyterian Church: you can bet they never put kraft paper over their windows because they have stained glass with local wildflowers.
Now maybe I’ll go try to balance my checkbook with all those Paypal entanglements, debit cards, and oh, oops, I used the wrong account to pay for business expenses, and what was that automatic deduction for? That’s right, the printing 10-key machine makes illegible numbers, so I’ll clean it. Well, oops, now it won’t print. (Felt great to shove it in the trash, so there.)
Never mind. Today I am painting the mural in Ivanhoe, listening to roosters crow, dogs bark, cats yowl, and cars go past. Nothing on the computer, very very peaceful. I’ll show you all about it on Monday.
This stack of ten canvases was staring at me accusingly. So rude.
The only way I could get them to shut up was to start working on them. I spread out the smallest canvases with their photos, mixed up a pile of sky color to cover eight of the beginning backgrounds, along with a nondescript dark background color for two that are different from my usual Mineral King scenery paintings.
The two Sequoia gigantea are finishing their drying session. No hurry; I delivered one still sort of dampish to Kaweah Arts, and these two are just back-ups.
Some of the canvases had a base coat, and last week I drew the basic shapes in pencil. I don’t always do this, but for some unknown reason felt compelled to do that last week. Maybe I just wanted to make the starting out session more accurate. . . maybe I thought it would make the paintings go faster. . . or maybe I just felt like drawing in pencil. Yeah, that.
As I was taking inventory of Mineral King paintings on hand, I kept returning to this 8×10” of White Chief, which was painted from a particularly dramatic photo taken by Trail Guy, early one season. The painting just didn’t slap me in the eyes like the photos do, so I guessed at what might make it better and then fiddled around with it a bit more.
Before
After
Better? Maybe. Hard to say when the upper one was scanned and the lower one photographed with my inferior phone camera. If it sells in 2026, I will conclude that it has been improved. If not, I’ll just break all my brushes, slash my canvases, and see if I can find a job eradicating typos somewhere.
I could be oil painting but seem to want to pull weeds, write blog posts, text with a friend about a difficult situation, make yogurt, and write a few letters.
We have a bit of a situation, but as a wise friend has said, “When you have a problem and you have money to fix it, you don’t have a problem; you have an inconvenience.
Prolly a starter. Maybe a fuse. Not the ignition switch or the battery. Thank goodness for the good pick-em-up truck (2003) AND the Botmobile (1986). Thank goodness for AAA, for upping the towing package 2 years ago, for Valero Bros. in Woodlake, and for Foreign Autoworks’ new owner, Frank.
We have a new pastor at church, someone with lots of energy and ideas. He joined the 50% of the congregation who wanted to remove the kraft paper from the front windows and asked a pair of fearless monkey-dudes to help. See if this doesn’t cause your guts to squeeze a bit. . .
Deciding what to paint for the Silver City Store this coming summer felt like a daunting task. There is no excuse for procrastination, and the better I plan, the better the sales. So, suck it up, Buttercup.
The first step in planning is to look at the available Mineral King paintings. (For my out-of-the-area readers, Mineral King is a beautiful alpine valley in Sequoia National Park; each summer I sell art 4 miles below the valley at a resort in a little cabin community called “Silver City”.)
It also involves evaluating how many paintings sold, both by subject and by size. I am painting to satisfy a clientele, rather than just doing whatever “moves” me. Thank goodness it is all very beautiful.
This planning part isn’t so beautiful. It’s methodical, tedious, and would be easier if I had a crystal ball. Instead, I have records, intuition, common sense, and piles and piles of photos, both the paper variety and on the laptop.
It is helpful to line them out by subject and size.
It is also helpful to take a break and walk somewhere. (No powerlines in Mineral King or Silver City to clutter the views up there, because it is remote, the Land of No Electricity.)
Rosemary in bloom. . . so far this year, February has been impersonating spring.
Now I have ten new paintings to produce, ranging in size from 6×6” to 8×16” and 10×10”.
I’ve attached hanging hardware and assigned inventory numbers. Next I need to give them titles, such as “Sawtooth #209”.
Not really; I think it is only somewhere in the 60s.
Last week I did not work on the mural for reasons that are irrelevant to my public life, as shared here with my tens of readers. The week before last, actually, since I show you on Mondays what I did on Fridays. Never mind.
This is how it looked last; it’s kind of hard to see things accurately in the late afternoon sun and shadow.
When I got to the library on Friday, it looked like this:
Wait, what is missing?? The mulberry trees were pruned, and THE REDWOOD LOG IS GONE, ALONG WITH THE STUMP! Whoops. That was a monument. Sure made nice chips on the ground and So Much Easier to see and work on the mural!!
There is a saying out there that when you have a difficult job facing you, i.e.,“a frog”, you should “eat the frog first”. So, I did: Ladder Man.
After I painted Ladder Man (this was the 2nd or 3rd attempt), Intern correctly and objectively pointed out that he was too small. (Thank goodness for Intern.) So, I kept Ladder Man the same size but moved him farther away in the orchard, conveniently placed behind the Twin Buttes inset so that the wonky ladder wasn’t visible.
Intern worked on orange blossoms for 3+ hours. (Thank goodness for Intern.) Then I dripped some paint on the bright orange on the label, tried to wipe it off, and then Intern turned it into a star, to be fixed later. I hope we remember all the Fix-it-Laters. . .
While Intern worked on the zillions of tiny white dots masquerading as distant orange blossoms, along with gray-ish green dots in the shadows, I tackled the next frog on the menu—painting the old Ivanhoe School Auditorium on that very rough wall surface, minus a T-square and a triangle, which I would be using if I was drawing it in pencil, or perhaps even when painting if the wall had been plastered.
I worked from left to right, across the inset, just as I would do if drawing in pencil. Yes, I was drawing with my paintbrush!
Time to stand back and admire all the progress, with the sunshine and clear treeless and logless view.
Then I decided to label the Auditorium inset, because no one will know what it is unless I tell them.
That was such a success (with space remaining to put in the year it was built and the year it was torn down if I am able to learn that information) that I decided to help people know what Twin Buttes are. That helped fill the too-big real estate of the road.
I sat down in the redwood wood chips which replaced the mud, and began fixing the label. You can see how the daylight changed during that interval to the late afternoon sunshine which casts a golden glow.
Please admire the detailed orange blossoms and navel on the label’s orange:
Further, note the claws on the rooster along with a hint of a shadow. This appeared on the actual label when I held it in the formerly unavailable bright sunshine.
Throughout the process of painting this mural, I continually use the measurement of “best viewed from the back of a fast horse”. After detailing the auditorium, Intern said it was “getting to be slow horse quality.”
I wonder if I’ll be able to finish it next Friday. Prolly not, when I consider how many orange blossoms remain, along with an uncontrollable desire to make the oranges brighter throughout. I also want to add a few more details, because those are the types of things that keep people looking closely.
To top off the great day of painting, there were PEOPLE IN THE LIBRARY!! Is this because the mural is drawing attention to this great free resource in this poor, tiny town of few benefits other than mountain views and the smell of orange blossoms each spring?
After a couple of weeks of messing around, I finally planted my feet in front of the easels to complete these three Sequoia paintings.
First, I dabbled on this one day, and then said, “Never mind, I’d rather [walk] [pull weeds] [go to the library] [anything else]”.
I girded my loins, and returned to the easels on another day. Can you tell which one is finished among these three?
Now two are finished, on the face anyway.
The light is beginning to wane, but all three are now finished on their faces.
The edges remained. It is a good way to use up the rest of the paint, and I hold them in my hand and rotate them around, trying to not end up wearing any paint. Finally, I laid them flat to dry.
The next oil painting task is to decide what to paint for the Silver City Store. Summer is like Christmas—we KNOW when it is coming, there is no excuse for procrastination, and there is plenty of time to prepare without getting jammed up against the calendar.
Maybe in one of those avoidance activities, I can engage in some deep thought to figure out why I was so reluctant to work on these paintings, which sell steadily at two local art stores/gift shops.*
Then since I was on a roll with Sequoia Trees, I got this panel set up in the sunshine to recoat the sky because that knothole made a weird appearance.
This is the page for February in my 2026 calendar.
I drew this in pencil (duh) from several photos taken a short distance up North Fork Drive in Three Rivers. The original is on a piece of 11×14” archival paper. It is for sale. $375 (plus tax if you live in California) or make me an offer.
Same size and price for the January drawing. Not tryna be sellsy or pushy (because that is obnoxious and I don’t really know how to do that). Just letting you know. Besides, this is supposed to be a business blog, not just me trip-trip-trapping around and then yip-yip-yapping about it.
While the east side of the country is getting hammered, the west side is having beautiful springlike weather. Let’s look at another walk, which probably could be classified as a hike if I had had the foresight to bring lunch. I did bring water and my walking stick, which was a good decision.
Poppies in January!
Not much water in that waterfall*.
Or this one. (It is a tiny light line in the shade.)
How in the world was this picnic table transported to this spot with no road??
Pippin was waiting for me to get home. Little sunshine kitty. Well, not actually little.
Jackson was also waiting, but he doesn’t want to look eager and make me think that he actually likes me.
Maybe I’ll get some work done tomorrow. Maybe I’ve done work already this week but haven’t shown you yet. Maybe I will work on the mural on Friday.
More will be revealed in the fullness of time.
*The waterfalls had good water when I photographed them in Spring 2023 for this painting (It shows as $700 on the website because the website is supposed to add sales tax, which I estimated to be $50.)
Salt Creek Falls, oil on wrapped canvas, 16×20″, $750
Ammonia is the main active ingredient in anti-itch medicine. If you put it on a cotton ball and rub it on bites or rashes, it helps better than those tubes of overpriced placebos. I have no idea what happened to my right foot, but it swelled up like a burrito and I scratched like a crazed animal for days. Ammonia was the only thing that provided some relief. (Nope, not gonna show you a photo.)
A heart rock, because we love to learn here.
Learned from Intern:
2. The Wayback Machine is a digital archive of the World Wide Web where people can search through old websites; he found my first website from around 2003 or so.
3. People in Asian countries make vertical emoticons (°-°) instead of sideways :-). I’ve been having fun with this! (*U*)
4. Youth view using a period at the end of a sentence in a text as a method to makes things look really serious. Good grief, I must really scare them when I text.
I don’t care about sportsball, but some of my tens of readers might enjoy this personalized license plate.
5. “Frunk” is a real word, which in itself is a new piece of learning; do you know what it is? I laughed aloud when I heard it and when I saw it. It is the FRont trUNK on a Tesla, a storage place where an engine normally sits under the hood.
Yeppers, a real frunk on a real friend’s real car.
6. Seems as if everywhere I read, the name G. K. Chesterton appears. I finally looked him up and learned a little bit about this great thinker and prolific writer, using this site Who is G.K. Chesterton? I realized that learning about him could involve a great deal of reading. Information overload, so many books, so many sites, so little time; I simply read a few paragraphs, composed this entry, and moved on. Sigh.
Reading Rabbit, AKA Salt & Light, oil painting
7. “Nalbinding” is a needle art I have never heard of before. Here’s a definition: “Nalbinding stitches are created with a single needle, using a series short lengths of yarn (18-36″ pieces) at a time. Each newly formed loop is created when the tail end of the yarn is pulled completely through the added loop, making it unravel-proof. “ It is also called “knotless netting” or “single needle knitting” or “looped-needle netting”. There is a thorough explanation with examples and even video instruction here: nalbinding. (I don’t need any more hobbies that use up my exhausted wrists so I didn’t look too closely.)
TuckerHose holder
8. “Dongle” is a little gizmo that goes into a computer to enable a mouse to work with a laptop instead of the trackpad. A friend misplaced hers, and used the word, which made me ask if it was a real word. Yeppers. We looked and looked, and it turned out that it had magnetically adhered to the bottom of her laptop as we were scrambling around with a flashdrive. So the word is new and the fact that it is magnetic is new. These tools and their words. . .!
My tools are much less complex, although it is very easy to misplace an erasing shield.
9. DMSO, or dimethyl sulfoxide was featured on 60 Minutes several decades ago as a potential remedy (or at least a relief provider) for arthritis. It was controversial, but now it can be purchased without a prescription. A friend gave me some, and sure enough, it provides almost instant relief for my wrist (De Quervain’s Tennosynovitis is my diagnosis, not arthritis or Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.) So far it hasn’t done squat for the peripheral neuropathy, and WebMD is rather dismissive of it. However, I am finding it to be helpful. Never mind. It messed up my stomach after 5 days. Go figure—it is applied to skin! But messed up digestion is one of the possible side effects.
Lavender has many uses, but it doesn’t fix wrist pain, in case you were wondering.
10. Remember when I said that intermittent fasting didn’t work to lower my A1C? According to sources (isn’t this how the media gives authenticity to its reports?), I was doing it wrong. Doing it right (as my source says, who is not a medical professional but is a very smart person) is really a hassle, and I don’t feel desperate enough to mess with this method of deprivation and inconvenience.
Always more steps to learning new things. . .
11. WAIT stands for Why Am I Talking? so I will stop now. Thank you, Blog Readers!
I recently read a useful acronym in Dusk Night Dawn by Anne Lamott: WAIT. It means Why Am I Talking. So today I will not talk, because I can’t think of a reason to talk that anyone would actually care about. Please enjoy these photos of what has masqueraded as winter in Three Rivers, California in January, 2026.
