Fluffy

I was commissioned to paint this lovely creature. What fun! And what an honor! Now I want to do a lot more pet portraits.

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Grandson with Rainbrella

Note: I changed the title of this piece because I'd forgotten the cutest name for an umbrella that this child had come up with. Love!

Previous title was "Sun Shower"

...or, rather, grandson shower.

A dear friend sent me a photo of his adorable grandson standing in the yard holding an umbrella and asked if I'd be willing to paint it. What an honor it is to be trusted with friends' precious memories!

Painting this reminded me of standing in my own yard growing up (partly because this friend of mine happens to live in the house I grew up in, though this image is not at that particular house). I'd throw my umbrella to the roof, climb the loquat tree in the front corner of the house, get on the roof, open that umbrella, and jump off. Over and over and over again. I very clearly remember thinking that the umbrella in no way slowed my eight foot descent.

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A Fabulous Day

What a fabulous day! Let me tell you all about it....

The little guy and I went to a new gym today just to check it out. After our brief tour he went one way and I went another. I hit the treadmill and then when I was just sitting down to do my regular routine with the weight machines my little guy appeared.


Little guy: "Come work out with me. I need a spotter."

Me: "Me? I'm too little to be your spotter."

Little guy: "Let's just try. Come on, let's go."


So with great reluctance, trepidation, and a considerable mumbling of protests, I followed.

And we did it. And it worked pretty well. I continued my undercurrent of negative commentary as he pushed and pushed and PUSHED me harder than I've been pushed in many years. And I was actually able to spot him effectively though he likely wasn't pushing himself as hard as he was pushing me...you know, for his safety and all.

So while he's promised me that my upper body will be really really sore in the morning, I'm super excited to go back tomorrow for the leg workout he's got in store for me.


Me: "I promise I won't gripe so much tomorrow."

Little guy: "Oh, you'll gripe. You'll have a lot to say about how sore you are." (Pretty darn sure he looked more than a little happy about this.)


I cannot wait!!! Really!

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Long Strands

I learn something new from my chickens every day. For instance, I knew they liked greens...green bean tips, bits of lettuce, etc. But what I didn't know is how they eat what is now their favorite treat, long strands of grass that I toss into their yard.

So, imagine any kid (and some adults) eating a strand of spaghetti. They put the end in their mouth and suck it in till it disappears. Well, this is what chickens do with long strands of grass. They grab it with their beaks and suck, or whatever it is that chickens do, it all the way in until it disappears. Now, unlike kids (and hopefully all adults), chickens are also apt to steal the strand from a pal, pull it out of their beak, and then eat it themselves. This is odd in my book, but I've seen it so many times that it must just be a chickeny thing to do.

I don't think I'll ever look at grass and spaghetti the same way again.

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Summertime Dreams

I'm taking a brief pause from my tree paintings to visit the beach. I love the beach. It's not all the fun in the sun that I adore. It's the smells, the wind, the humidity, the myriad of creatures that make their lives there, and the people who call beach towns their home. All of them rugged and delicate in their own beautiful ways.

So if I were at the beach right now, this would be my view from my spot on a blanket, sitting under a big umbrella, with a tall glass of iced herbal tree, and my watercolors at play.

Summertime dreams...

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Seeing Orange

Last night on my walk I passed the cutest fella.  He was a total ginger, hair a lovely shade of light auburn.  And he was wearing a Longhorn orange polo shirt.  And the icing on the cake?  He was walking an equally ginger Golden Retriever.

They were awesome...and I told them so.


And when I did, he looked down at his shirt and at his dog, and appeared to have had no idea that they shared the same shade.  That made them even more awesome.

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Black and Blue

It's so liberating when you first get to drive off in your own car.  My little guy is so ready to get to that point.  He's just on the cusp, almost sixteen.  But when you're on this side of the cusp, stuff like this still happens.


- Stuck having your mom take you to a doctor's appointment that very soon you'd be able to take yourself to.

- Notice in the reflection of the building's big window door that you're wearing a blue shirt.

- Notice that your mom's reflection is also wearing a blue shirt...the same shade of blue!

- Notice that you're wearing black shorts.

- Notice that your mom is wearing black capris.

- Your mom makes a totally unhelpful comment:  "Hey, at least we're not both wearing strappy sandals."

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Smile

I go for walks every day.  Sometimes twice a day if I'm feeling particularly ambitious.  And when I'm walking I'm so, so, so happy!  Truly it's pure bliss.  And when I'm on my walks I always have a companion...one of my two sweet dogs or my iPhone playing podcasts from NPR shows (not the news).

What I've noticed is this.  I catch myself smiling or laughing goofily often throughout my walks.  I also catch a lot of other people not smiling or laughing.  And so one of my favorite things is to catch other people's eyes and share a genuine smile with them.  And I tell you what, I bet 90% of them return my smile...and if I'm with one of my dogs they got a big smile, too.

So go share a smile, they're seriously contagious!

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My big kid. He's so funny!

My big guy came into the kitchen to get a snack.


Me:  "I wish you guys were on a curling team and you needed to practice all that sweeping all over my house."

Big guy: "If I was on curling team, I'd use a vacuum."


Oh, he's so awesome.  A tad sluggish with housework, but seriously, oh, so awesome!

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Mothering

I get on myself a lot for my mothering skills...go to bed thinking of all the ways I've surely done damage to my kids and how much therapy they'll need as adults and all that.  But every once in a while I get a little reminder that maybe, just maybe, I'm doing an OK job of this...that my kids will survive the dumb luck of being born to me and all my failings.


Me:  "I love you, babe!"

Little guy:  "I know.  I love me, too!"


And perhaps if I hold on to this I'll go to bed tonight and rest well in the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, my kids will turn out OK.

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