Category: Thoughts

Things I’m learning in Artworld.

Many New Things Learned in April

FOURTEEN NEW THINGS LEARNED IN APRIL!

1.Actually, I learned this on March 31, thanks to Reader Marjie: those tiny tangerines are called “Pixie Tangerines”, and many (all? prolly not) grow in Ojai.

2. DO NOT BUY THINGS ON THE INTERNET IN A HURRY! I got swept away by a good offer from Photo Affections that was about to expire, and I was so enamored with my iris that I ordered something that is just a waste of money—flat cards with no room to write instead of foldover cards. I thought I’d learned this lesson earlier, but nope, here I am again. Hmmm, I wonder if these fall into the category of Cruft. (See #4 on March Learned List.)

3. Have you ever programmed a complicated timer for a complicated irrigation system? It’s complicated. The fact that the directions use different words than the actual box (i.e. valve=station) further complicates a complicated situation. To add to the complications, many of the items in the box are not labeled so I keep forgetting which word applies to which knob/button/dial. But I think I have it figured out. Complicated, for sure. (Have I ruined the word “complicated” for you yet?)

4. There are friends in life who influence us deeply. Some friends are there for just a season or for a particular reason, but that doesn’t negate the marks they leave on our hearts, memories, and even habits. I have one such friend, a roommate for 2-3 years many decades ago, whose influence keeps appearing in multiple places in my life, in spite of only exchanging birthday cards (Can’t forget that because we share the same birthday). Recently we began a little bit of texting, and it is such a miraculous thing to be in instant touch, so special.

5. lagniappe lan-yap noun: a small gift given with a purchase to a customer. I’ve done this but didn’t know it had an actual word. I wonder how a customer would respond if I handed him a painting and said, “I’ve thrown in a little lagniappe for you.” The customer would probably say, “A what? Looks like a package of cards to me!”

6. When formatting and designing a book, it is prudent to order a single copy for physical hands-on proofing and viewing. Recently I could not make a purchased InDesign book design template work and in frustration, I downloaded a free template from the printing/publishing company. Author Louise Jackson and I were thrilled with the cover, but the interior of the actual book was just unattractive. So, I persevered on the temperamental template until I figured out how to bypass its idiosyncracies (well, whaddaya expect when it is from 2015 and so is my laptop, which can no longer be updated, because Planned Obsolescence is trying to bankrupt us all), and REDID THE ENTIRE BOOK DESIGN. It was worth the effort.

Happy with the outer appearance (and dressed to match, of course).

6. I read something in a fluffy novel that really resonated deeply with me, and I will plagiarize it here, making it personal: When I walk past Fernando, I “feel a strange longing that can only be described as a deep psychological problem; I seem to be locked in a prison of my own nostalgia.” Clearly I am a disturbed individual rather than a rational, wise, and mature 66-year-old. Sigh. Please be gentle with me. (Now I forget which book I got this from.)

Yeppers, added the canoe to the sale of the car because I no longer have a way to transport it and my wrist hurts too much. Hmm, a lagniappe!

7. You can make brownies without flour using black beans. WHAT? This is so weird that I had to try it. Here is the link to the recipe I used, chosen because it had the least sugar and the most cocoa powder: Black Bean Brownies. Decent, but of course boxed brownie mix with a handful of chocolate chips added to the batter are better. If you are curious, out of flour, can’t eat wheat, have black beans you don’t need, whatever. . . try it.

8. Life is complicated and if when something breaks, we have 2 choices: figure it out or replace/toss it. “Figure it out” = “just Google it”. But how? Type in the appliance number and see what appears. Try to figure out what part is needed, have a “chat” with “someone” for help, get the name of the broken part, try to match it to the list of parts, oops the part name is different from what the Chat Someone called it, get back in line to clarify the part name, order the part (if it is available), and then try to find someone who will call you back and then actually show up to install it. Who is designing all this? Young “hipsters” who are supposedly concerned about the planet/climate change/putting junk in the landfills? Life is complicated AND exhausting, because I am supposed to be painting, not waiting for my turn in a “Chat Request” line. (THE PART WAS $104 FROM GE AND $28 FROM AMAZON, in case you were wondering, and a friend/repairman replaced it for $100.)

9. I sent some watches to The Veterans Watchmaker Initiative, Inc. (P.O. Box 329, Little Creek, DE 19961) and SOMEONE WROTE ME A THANK YOU NOTE!! (I sent 5 watches, but the thank you said 4; I’ll let it pass.) Their website ticks like a clock—let not your hearts be troubled—At first I thought my laptop was about to explode.

10. Have you ever heard of a city named “Brno” or the country of Czechia? It was new to me, via my friend Elisabeth’s blog. She’s and her family are spending 3 months living and traveling in Europe, and her photos and information is terrific. The Czech Republic is now called “Czechia” and Brno is the 2nd largest city after Prague. The cities throughout her extended travels so far all kind of look alike to me; if I was doing such a trip, I’d be visiting the countryside and little villages, taking photos of barns, cottages, gates, fences, trails, roads, fields and streams. But I do love seeing the fancy architecture.

11. Sometimes it really helps to call for assistance. My MacBook Pro kept saying I was out of room, and Apple kept trying to sell me a larger “cloud” plan. (BUG OFF, I have an external hard drive and don’t need The Cloud, so there.) I called Apple for help, and after a few attempts, a supervisor did a screenshare with my laptop and discovered a bunch of useless and mysterious stuff slowing things down. It was thrilling to have it deleted, to see all the available space, and to have things working well again.

A different sort of apple; this is an exercise I devised to use teaching peope how to draw.

12. Egg doesn’t wash off once it dries on a wall. It also takes a few coast of paint to hide the shine left from the egg. I’ve heard it destroys the paint job on a car too. If eggs were still running around $7/dozen, maybe someone wouldn’t have wasted one on the Ivanhoe library mural.

13. I learned to use my Brother printer to scan pencil drawings. It isn’t big enough for most of my work, but it will help until I figure out another plan. Look at the difference in 2 scans of my drawing student’s artichoke picture; on the left is the Brother scan without any Photoshop touch-up and the Mustek scan is on the right (also no touch-up, duh).

14. I figured out how to add a page to the Store on my website. It’s called OTHER PEOPLE’S BOOKS, and it is where you can order any of the books I helped get printed, most of which are NOT on Amazon. My authors (and all authors unless you are like John Grisham or Danielle Steel) need help to sell their books. This is the only way I know to help them.

Three Failures and Two Not-Failures

This 1st grade dork had no idea of the pitfalls and roadblocks ahead in life.

A pie.

About 40 years ago, I had a summer job as a baker, and the place was known for pies. A guy from church told me about a pie his mom used to make for him and asked if I would make it for him. I was willing to try, so he brought me the recipe. He called it “chocolate meringue” and the recipe called it “chocolate chiffon” —I call it “chocolate pie failure”.

I wrote this to a friend who inherited the baking job:

Everything was wrong: my Crisco had been in the fridge for probably 10 years and for some reason had oil all over the outside top of the lid. What?? And the stuff in the can looked dried out, so I put it in the trash and found a recipe for a pie crust with butter.

Why does EVERY pie dough recipe NEVER have enough water? “Add 1 T at a time, up to 1/4 cup” —useless, with tons of dry flour leftover in the bowl. But I persisted, and eventually was able to roll it out, using a spray bottle of water to get the cracks to glue together.

“Blind baking” is unfamiliar to me, but I lined the pan with foil on top of the dough and filled it with uncooked navy beans to hold it down. It worked well enough, but the butter melted and coated the crust with oil. Is this normal?

The pie filling used gelatin, and the envelopes I had were probably 2 or 3 decades old. So what? It’s gelatin, so I used it anyway.

It called for egg whites, beaten stiff. Kind of hard without an electric mixer or even a hand-crank egg beater, so I pulled out my immersion blender. Useless. Would NOT beat the egg whites stiff. Oh well, I added the called-for sugar despite the textural wrongness.

Then I thought that maybe I should give the egg whites another chance, so I started over with 3 more eggs. Nada. Zip. Zilch. No stiffness.

So I just mixed everything together and poured it into the pie crust, and then was horrified to see that the filling, which contains 3 eggs, DOES NOT GET COOKED.

It sat in the fridge overnight, in the hopes it would solidify. Alas, it did not, and when I dipped a spoon into the extra filling to test it, it was very grainy because apparently the gelatin did NOT jell, in spite of following the directions.

In reading an updated version of the recipe (from a more current Better Homes & Gardens red and white checked cookbook), I learned that there are many important steps that my old recipe did not happen to mention. In theory, it could turn out in a second attempt with all the nuances and proper tools, but in reality, I’m done. Because of the raw eggs, all the time ~~wasted~~ spent, and the fact that it was chocolate, I baked it (raw eggs—no thanks). It is weird but edible (CHOCOLATE!).

A Shawl

I found some almost thread-weight cotton yarn at a yard sale many years ago and this winter, in an attempt to work through my yarn stash (still extensive in spite of my severe yarn diet of the past 3-4 years), decided to turn it into a shawl. This is the kind of pattern that starts with about 3 stitches, and every other row you add another 4 stitches to grow it into a triangle shape. The rows get longer and longer, ending with 366 stitches, and the lace pattern chart gets harder and harder to follow as the piece grows. My shawl looks as if there is no lace pattern, just a random mess of disorganized lace. I knew I was off many times, and decided that it didn’t matter. If a person is wearing a shawl, the pattern isn’t usually visible. I just kept plowing ahead, and the results are a dog’s breakfast. A lacy pink dog’s breakfast.

The angle of my inferior phone camera doesn’t show the triangular shape.

A Phone

An elderly friend bought a cordless phone and couldn’t make it work. I went to her house and did some troubleshooting, concluding that the phone was defective. I ordered another, and she meticulously followed each step to set it up. Zip, zero, zilch, nada. All I can figure out is that her “old” landline is not up to the current technological requirements of telephone behaviors. This is someone who has no internet or cell phone, and she is very determined to keep her life simple. Together we decided that this is just a time waster, so we’ll return both phones.

We both think that mail is a fine and reliable way to communicate.

Not a failure

I can draw.

I can help people write books and get them printed. The books that I have shepherded from idea to publication but that I don’t sell can be found on this new page: OTHER PEOPLE’S BOOKS. This includes Tales of TB, Springville’s Hospital, The Crooked Cross of Diamond Lake, Only the Living, and Adventures in Boy Scouting.

The Hardest Part About Being an Artist (accompanied by a random selection of pencil drawings)

Anyone want to guess?

Guesses

Maybe you are thinking that it is difficult to paint according to people’s instructions (called “commissions” or “commissioned art”). That might be true for some artists, but I am not one of them. I’ve said for decades that I’d rather draw an ugly house than be a waitress.

Maybe you are thinking that it is the lack of a steady paycheck. That is probably true for artists without supportive spouses with a steady income and insurance, but that is not me.

Maybe you are thinking that it is having to approach galleries. There aren’t any for-profit galleries in Tulare County, and since Tulare County is my focus, I don’t have to approach galleries. A benefit of having stayed here my entire career, both in subject matter and in the flesh, is that galleries (all non-profit) approach me. Not boasting, just stating the facts. There is much to be said for continuity and presence and reliability and community.

What about selling? Not a problem for me, because I don’t try to “sell” to people. I help people who want my art figure out which piece or pieces will please them most. No tricky words, no persuasive speech, just helping people.

None of those things are anyone’s favorite part about being an artist. So what is the hardest part?

The answer

Pricing. All artists HATE to set prices.

Other artists tell me my prices are way too low. However, my customers gasp and have to think about whether or not to spend money on my art. (That deflates any tendencies of getting fat-headed about being known in my area.)

There is a push-and-pull between keeping prices affordable while allowing those who do the expensive and boring work of maintaining a gallery or gift shop to have a fair cut of the profits. And keeping prices affordable is a bit of smoke-and-mirrors, the old 99 or 95 trick. If keeping prices consistent, and a size comes out to the price of $225, the tendency is to call it $199 or $195. If I do that, I’ve chopped $25 off my profit, and also chopped the seller’s cut.

What if I just painted small so all the prices are under $200 in order to keep the visitors and gift shops flowing along? This is often what I do.

But if I only paint small, then my inventory will not be ready for someone who asks for a larger piece, or when a gallery approaches for a show.

Ethics

On top of all that indecisiveness, there is an important piece to pricing: no matter where someone finds my work, it must be priced the same. Website, shows, galleries, my studio, stores—no “it’s cheaper at. . .” or “I know the artist and can get her to cut me a deal.” Nope. We* keep it consistent** and ethical, and if you see my piece at a show and then think that after the show you can get it cheaper from me, go have yourself another think. Likewise, if you see a piece at a show and wait to buy it directly from me, I will write the gallery a check for their cut anyway.

Conclusion

Push-me-pull-you, that llama from Dr. Doolittle with two heads, each one pointing a different direction—that’s a good symbol of the mess in my head when setting prices.

I need some chocolate.

I painted this 5×7” oil in 2006, not too long after beginning to work in oil.

*The royal we, since it is just big Queen Me-Me around here in this little business.

**Except sometimes I mess up, especially when doing stressful pricing math.

pencil drawings

Mural Dedicated

It was called an unveiling, but it was really a dedication, a symbolic presentation to the town of Ivanhoe, a “Here, this is for you and you are welcome, be proud!” (I wanted to add, “and don’t let it get egged!”)

Lots of hoorah, thank you to this personage, thank you to that personage, acknowledge how wonderful everyone is, pat ourselves on the back, (all present ignored the bureaucracy, indecision, delays, red tape and reluctance to let the mural painters have a key for access to the facilities while painting) take some photos and eat some cake.

There was a translator for the talks; it was kind of hard to keep interrupting myself to wait for her to repeat my words in Spanish. Too bad I didn’t have a formal speech written out in advance to help her. I don’t actually know how to do formal speeches—I just talk.

(I skipped the cake. Thank you for your concern. Please be impressed by my restraint.)

Jonny, my intern showed up! I made him stand by me when I talked about painting the mural. Then I said that he had a great work ethic and that he needs a job. Probably embarrassed him. I don’t care. He is a good worker and does need a job!

We probably talked too much during the county supervisor’s speech; the supervisor said something about “how eloquently” I talked about painting the mural. I told Jonny that he probably had written his speech before I did my little talk.

Jonny was explaining to me that holding up 2 fingers is a peace sign; I was explaining to him that I know what it is; he didn’t explain why he always does that in photos.

Two friends from high school came!

Then my friend Lauren (former drawing student) asked me how to get to Twin Buttes, and I said, “Follow me!” So we took a short detour before heading our separate ways home.

I really really really like this mural and was so touched by all the people showing up.

The Business of Art | Many words today

This might take more time to read than you want to spend. You also might not find it interesting. You can skip it today—I’ll still be your friend.

In thinking about all the distractions and how long it has been since I last painted, I realized several things, the most glaring that. . .

. . . I missed several important selling opportunities here in Three Rivers this spring.

What a Slacker

(1) The Studio Tour weekend: Did it include Three Rivers this year? This event alternates areas each year. It used to be an exclusive Three Rivers event, but I stopped after it grew to involve the entire county. It eats up an entire weekend and involves many strangers coming to my home. No thanks.

(2) First Saturday —haven’t participated in that for many years because I don’t like waiting in my studio all day, jumping up every time I hear a car go past to see if they are pulling into my driveway, helping tottery people up my steps, and then being squished with strangers in my little shed of a studio. No thanks.

(3) A busy Easter weekend in the local shops. Oops, didn’t have anything new to take.

(4) I’m skipping the Redbud Festival too. Lots of work to set up, poor attendance in the last handful of years I’ve been there, standing around on numb feet (because when a vendor sits, it appears as if he is disinterested) and not wanting to work on Sunday all add up to No Thanks to festivals, bazaars, boutiques and all such events.

These guys would HATE having strangers invade their space—my painting workshop doubles as their home.

Good grief, it’s a wonder that I can stay in business as a local artist.

After 33 years of full time ~~artisting~~, ~~arting~~, scratching out a living with paintbrushes and pencils, I seem to have developed enough ways of earning a living that I can be a little pickier.

But then again, when I had a solo show in Tulare last August, I thought I had it all figured out and almost didn’t bring any pencil drawings. Boy was I wrong—pencil drawings were all that sold!

Such is the business of art. The best I can do is return phone calls and emails, finish work on time, keep improving old skills and learning new ones.

What I do

Editing, proofreading, book design, drawing in pencil, oil painting, painting murals, teaching regular group and private drawing lessons, giving talks about drawing, publishing books (coloring, cabins, and wildflowers for me; a variety of topics for other people), printing and selling notecards and calendars, designing and painting signs, logo design, teaching drawing and oil painting workshops, an occasional solo show, accepting commissions, selling through local shops, selling from my website and to people who call or ask to visit my studio—it all provides great variety, and continues to hold my interest.

This is a fantastic place to teach drawing lessons and workshops.

What I don’t do

Notice that the above list doesn’t include the aforementioned boutiques/bazaars/festivals, or lending my work to places of business so that they don’t have to buy it but can pretend that it is actually going to sell while people are in their offices for other purposes. It doesn’t include giving art to fund raisers or annual beg-a-thons (hint: I will give many charities who ask a free Wilsonia book, or even a certificate for a free private drawing lesson). There’s nothing on the list about participating in shows with entry fees, joining in themed group shows, or schlepping my art to decorate someone’s annual banquet to give people something to do while they are waiting for dinner to begin. I have done all of these things in the past and am thankful to be able to decline such “opportunities for exposure”. The beginners and youngsters can do those things, but I learned that a person can die of exposure. (Yes, I do make exceptions from time to time.)

Why would I ever want to leave here if I didn’t have to?

What About The Internet?

I also don’t sell via Facebook, Instagram, or Etsy. These platforms require copious amounts of time online, building up a following, participating in discussions and commenting and “liking”, being visible, staying connected. I try to keep my connections real rather than virtual, and as much as I try to limit screen time, I’m still on the computer way more than I want to be: photos, communications, photo editing, blogging, more photos, book editing, book design, and even more photos for many reasons and uses, plus reading and commenting regularly on a handful of blogs, which have brought a handful of sales and new friendships.

This was a fun place to give a talk about earning a living with art and how I got to where I am, which really, isn’t anything to brag about. It came with lunch, which we all needed after a very stressful hour before the meeting began of trying to make the powerpoint projector work. (Next time I’ll bring my trusty laptop.)

P.S. Notice also that the list doesn’t include showing in galleries: this means for-profit galleries. There are none in Tulare County, only non-profits, run by volunteers, where I have had my solo shows.

Conclusion

Using pencils, oil paint, and murals, I make art that you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.

P.S. I happily accept commissions, which means I make custom art for people. I hope you know that!

Tryna Paint | A Few Other Things First

So many parts to my little life: editing, gardening, doing stuff for church. . . but I was ‘posed to be painting.

Look! This crape myrtle tree isn’t dead after all!

Hey! Why are these iris hiding?

This sign will be repurposed, but first Trail Guy had to scrape off old lettering, and then I had to put forty-eleven coats of paint on it. Now we get to store it until the next volunteer does his part.

What? You want another sign? Okay, fast-horse quality

LOOK! The climbing roses are blooming, and they usually don’t appear until the end of April!

Wait! I’m ‘posed to be painting!

Remember this guy? I thought he looked weird. After studying him upside down with the photo, I made a few adjustments, added a bit more detail, signed it and set it aside. This ain’t no piano I’m building here. . . let’s not get paralyzed by perfectionism, because summer’s selling season approaches.

Moving on, there are 3 more Honeymoon Cabin paintings to complete.

That was quick and easy. Next!

Back and forth between the two, tryna be efficient with the colors on the brush so I didn’t waste either paint or time.

Still, I didn’t finish either one of these. Maybe the next time I can get these both finished and move on to some Three Rivers paintings. Shoulda coulda woulda had them done in time for Easter weekend/First Saturday in Three Rivers, but there were so many other distractions. As you witnessed by the beginning of this disjointed post.

oil paintings Three Rivers

Eleven Things Learned in March

I’ve never heard of sous vide style cooking. Read about it here: A Beginner’s Guide to Sous Vide Cooking on a site called “Spruce Eats”. Pronounced “soo-VEED”. Not planning on trying it. I made it through the Insta-Pot and Keurig crazes without buying anything and will continue to keep my life and possessions simple wherever possible. But it is fun to learn about what other people are doing. If you want more info, Serious Eats is a great website for all sorts of cooking info.

2. Do NOT let piles of paper accumulate! I finally went through the stack of birthday and Christmas cards and in that stack I found THREE Very Important Items: 1. a letter I thought I had mailed in October (ARE YOU KIDDING ME??) 2. a gift certificate to Luis Nursery (ARE YOU KIDDING ME??) 3. An email and phone number for a dear old friend (HI CAREEN!! WE ACTUALLY TEXTED AND I ALWAYS THINK OF THINGS TO TELL YOU BUT DON’T WANT TO BE A WEIRDO AND A PEST.)

3. “Faff” can be both a verb and a noun, considered British English. (Great word, thank you, Elisabeth from Canada!) NOUN: An unnecessary or over-complicated task, especially one perceived as a waste of time. VERB: To waste time on an unproductive activity.

4. “Cruft” is similar to “faff”. It means redundant, old, inferior, especially as it relates to code (computer stuff).

5. Brushing scam is an entirely new term to me. It is yet another scam, this one a “fraudulent tactic where sellers send unsolicited packages to individuals to create fake “verified” reviews under their names, boosting the seller’s credibility without the recipient’s consent. This can expose personal information and lead to identity theft or other scams.” So, beware if you receive something you did not order! Keep it, donate it, bury it in your garden, but do NOT review it online or respond to the wicked “geniuses” who sent it.

6. Lone Oak Cemetery, still there in spite of neglect, still with poppies and a lone oak, right there in the orange groves of Ivanhoe as it was 60 years ago.

7. There are tollways in California. I thought there were only freeways, but I was wrong. It is a real privilege to live in a place where we say “the freeway” and everyone knows what is meant.

8. My cousin was a voracious reader and a list-maker. How did I not know this about him? Despite all our differences, we really and truly were related!

9. I went to an awards dinner (as a guest of a winner friend) and this tiny oval-ish citrus fruit was part of the centerpieces. I took a couple home to try and they were Very Sweet. No idea what they were! I should have taken more. . .

10. Wisdom from James Clear about unexpected forms of generosity:

Not taking things personally can be a form of generosity. You give people the space to say things imperfectly.”
Leaving something unsaid can be a form of generosity. You don’t always need the last word.
Being early can be a form of generosity. You wait, so they don’t have to.
Delivering your work on time can be a form of generosity. You make life easier for everyone downstream.

11. I learned how to make scrambled eggs that don’t stick to the pan. (But where did I learn this??) Put your fat in the pan and heat the pan hot enough that a drop of water dances, not sizzles. Then your eggs won’t stick! It actually works. ‘Bout time I figured this out.

And thus we conclude a month of many new pieces of information. I wonder how much I will retain.

Did you learn anything new in March?

About That Road Trip

Currently I am doing a final edit, photo edit, and formatting a book that has been a long time coming (about the TB hospital in Springville, here in Tulare County). Things are a bit urgent, so here is a post about my road trip 10 days ago, because this is my blog and I can write whatever I want. Any questions? (Besides how to comment; I KNOW commenting is a pain of signing in, user names, passwords, etc. I HATE that stuff and feel grateful to anyone willing to navigate it all.)

The drive was beautiful. It was green with wildflowers. I left at 6:30 a.m. and seemed to encounter cars coming up the hill about every 1/2 mile or so before getting to Highway 65, which caused me to ask, “Why all the traffic?”

This is just hilarious in view of heading to Southern California. I live in a place where we simply say “The Freeway”; everyone I went to visit has to refer to the many freeways in their lives by the numbers. Do they say “Five” or do they say “The Five”? And if they say “The Five”, do they also say “The Walmart” and “The Facebook”? I forgot to notice.

The photos never do justice to reality. Additionally, I was holding up my phone while watching the road (OF COURSE I WAS WATCHING THE ROAD!) and hoping to get lucky. (No film was wasted, but many photos were deleted after I arrived.) There were wildflowers on the hillsides, wildflowers in patches on the shoulders of the freeways. The hills over The Grapevine* were green, the hills in Southern California were green—just wonderful, looking the way i think it always should look. (God didn’t ask for my opinion when he designed the seasons in California so I’ll just trust that all is as it should be despite my attitude.)

The freeway system has changed since I was a frequent traveler along that route. Confusing stuff. I used the talking lady, until she told me to leave The Two-Ten and head west. Can’t remember. I just pantsed my arrogant way along, sure I could figure it out. Then The Fifteen became a tollway, not a freeway. WHAT?? So I took The Sixty west, and asked the talking lady to get me to Escondido again.

I ended up on The Two Fifteen (Hunh? What”s that one?) and eventually it fed back into The Fifteen (without my spending a dime other than burning gas that cost $5.99/gallon in Three Rivers), and things became familiar again.

I love this bridge, which we called “Dad’s Favorite Bridge” for awhile (Was he unaware of the Oak Grove Bridge on the Mineral King Road? Nope. “De gustibus non es diputandem” as he used to say.**) It is a beautifully minimalistic bridge, spanning a huge freeway, as you can see. It is south of Fallbrook, in case you are curious.

Driving home, I decided I didn’t need the talking lady, but I asked her to take me to Fresno, just for curiosity’s sake. Yeppers, once again, she tried to force me off The Fifteen (or was it The Two Ten?) and once again I ignored her. I didn’t encounter any tollways nor did I see The Two Fifteen. Boy oh boy, do I ever need an updated map.

I was reminded that in order to stay on The Two Ten, one must continually exit and then merge onto another freeway, each interchange a total constipation of too many cars. I didn’t like it, being much more comfortable on a one-lane unpaved curvy road without stripes or guard rails.

However, Momscar with its 6 cylinder engine was mighty fine in several instances. People say they hate all the shifting in traffic; I never did, but often wished for more ponies under my hood back in the olden days of driving 5-speeds.

This is the first time in my life that I remember seeing so many wildflowers on the Grapevine. It was beautiful! I also had a good audio book, The Tao of Martha by Jen Lancaster (Memoir read by the author is my favorite, but why do people have to cuss so much? Sigh.)

I did finally see why a Tesla “truck” calls itself a truck—I could actually see it has a bed like a real pickup. But the ugly factor just slays me.

I was very eager to get home, and in the second passing lane around the lake, I blew around someone poking along. After getting past, I quickly came to a traffic jam. What?? I could see that cars went all the way across the Horse Creek bridge, coming downhill. What?? Eventually we crawled back into action, passing a slightly wrinkled car sitting on the bed of a tow truck.

Dorothy was right—There’s no place like home (not The Home).

*The Grapevine is what Freeway 5 (“The Five”?) is called where it crosses the Tehachapi Mountains because even until I was a little kid, it was a country road that was very twisty. Now it is multiple lanes, high speed until you catch up to someone (who should keep right) crawling uphill in one of the faster lanes. The summit is closer to Bakersfield than to Southern California—Tejon Pass, 4144’. After the summit, it feels as if we still climb, but who knows? Not me.

** Latin for “it’s useless to argue over matters of taste”.

freeways Southern California

How Fast?

Walking Partner and I noticed something different a week or two ago here in Three Rivers: new speed limit signs on a private road.

This is one post. 15 mph heading upstream, 5 mph heading downstream. (This is along the river—could you guess that?)

Here’s another one: This time it was 15 mph going downstream and 5 mph going upstream.

And here is another on the same road: 5 mph both upstream and downstream, but this time there is an explanation for those heading up. “Slow blind curve ahead” could apply to the bulk of the road.

And at this intersection, it is 15 mph regardless of the direction you head.

Never mind. Let’s look at some wildflowers along the walk.

This is the kind of sign I’m used to. Custom. Interesting enough to perhaps cause someone to notice.

Walking Partner and I walk about 3.5 mph, in case you were wondering. We used to walk 4 mph, but we’ve never been this old before.

(Neither has my friend GE. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GE!!)

Three Rivers wildflowers

Tempted Away From Painting

On a fabulously springlike day in February, Trail Guy tempted me away from painting: easy to do when there are wildflowers and it isn’t hot and I don’t have a tight deadline.

First, I noticed all the chemtrails. Yeah, yeah, I know, “contrails”, but I still think there are way more than we have passenger jets above. The general direction is usually south to north, or west to east. I believe something secretive and possibly nefarious is taking place. Yes, I am susceptible to conspiracy theories; often the distance between one of those theories and reality is about 6 months.

We drove down toward Kaweah Lake, parked at the upper end of the Slick Rock area and then meandered upstream along the river, with a wee bit of accidental trespassing behind the Lazy J Motel.

A great redbud in the parking lot!