While Paint Dries

All thirty shelves for the bookcase wall have been primed, two coats, both sides X 30 = 120 heavy shelves picked up, primed, and laid out to dry, using up every horizontal surface in the shop. fortunately, primer dries quickly, so all of the above was one long day's job, about ten hours worth. Next was the first paint coat - one side X 30. Enamel takes a LOT longer to dry, so there's time for other duties.
One such is walking Cocoa. Now that it is a bit cooler (Yea!) we can get back to training outdoors. Yesterday's walk provided unexpected excitement - a new den! It's huge!  As we trekked past the pump house a dark shape caught my eye, and for a moment we kept walking as my brain processed the unexpected. Then an about face (good training move :-)) to go back and check it out. A gaping hole at least a foot in diameter had quite recently been dug in the side of a large mound of weed covered dirt. There are several of these mounds in the wooded areas, left from tree clearing and well drilling. Whatever has moved in to this hole is bigger than a gopher tortoise! A new mystery, a new resident. Perhaps I need to study wildlife "holeology". I have already learned that a gopher hole is dome shaped with a flat bottom - matching the shape and size of the gopher's shell - and descends at a 45 degree angle, turning to conceal the tunnel or den. Each time the gopher enters, it clears away sand and debris, very gradually enlarging the hole as the gopher very slowly grows. Abandoned gopher holes are used by other wildlife, thus helping the environment by providing shelter to animals such as rattlesnakes, armadillo, fox, etc.   

Whatever made the new hole wasn't waiting fora gopher to leave. In my younger days I would have set up a watch spot and stayed up all night to spot the creature. At this point I am content with the mystery.

Weekend Happenings

This weekend was full of very common activities that fed our souls. First, Janet mixed a huge bowl of liver cookie mixture for Cocoa's cookies. We feed her only fresh, all natural, home-made food and cookies and the cookie jar was getting near the bottom.
Then, we had blooms erupt from the yellow salvia that only blooms in the fall. We love it so much and the hummingbirds would too if they were still here and not down South.
I planted vegetable seeds and wrote on a stick so I would know what I planted in which bed. This technique lasts longer than just placing the seed packet on a stick. The packet wilts with the humidity and, anyway, I wanted to use the seed packets in a collage.
Finally, I ended the day with a glass of my favorite wine ($2.98 at WalMart) and gratitude for the little things that make such a big difference in our lives.

New Things To Love

I have been bargain shopping at my favorite thrift store here in Ocala in order to find old books to use for my art work. I have found several at the very good price of about 25 cents apiece and have disassembled them to make altered books.
However, I am finding that I am beginning to love some of these books way too much and can't bear to take them apart. I have found an old shorthand book from the early part of the century and a few old readers that take me back to my own childhood.
My greatest treasures, however, came last weekend when Janet cleaned out an old wooden box that contained journals written by her grandfather making note of the weather everyday beginning in 1904 and ending in 1938, right before his death. (See first picture at the top and the stack on the right side, above.)
I will judiciously select pages from these wonderful books and journals to use in my collages and other assemblage projects. What a great piece of history.

Celtic Quilt: An Ancestral Piece

Last week at work, we were raising money for the United Way. Because the economy is so bad, people donated items to be auctioned off instead of giving right out of their pockets. There were many interesting items in the auction but this quilt was, by far, the best. I didn't let anyone know I was interested in it. However, when the bidding started and several people had begun a little bidding war, I jumped right in and won the piece.

This Celtic design quilt is important to me for two reasons. First, it was created by Jane Plummer, one of my reading coaches. She and her sister are quilt artists and Jane makes beautifully intricate quilts. Second, the Celtic people were very intertwined with the people of Northern Spain and many of us who are of Spanish descent, also have a Celtic past. Every bottle of Spanish hard cider I have ever enjoyed has a picture of a Celtic bagpiper on the label; hence, the name El Gaitero or "The Bagpiper".

We have found a very special place on our wall for this art piece. It will be a reminder of my relationship with Jane and of my relationship with the past.

New Plants for the Autumn

We went plant shopping yesterday and found some new treasures. I haven't bought plants in a very long time but the autumn of the year always calls for something a little different after the scorching heat of summer. I bought this beautiful pink rose named, Our Lady of Guadalupe. The name reminded me of San Miguel so I had to have it.



And since pink was obviously the theme, I bought this Pink Meuli Grass, a plant I have always wanted because of its lovely pink plumes. It only blooms in the autumn so I will have pink plumes to look forward to every year at this time.

The Remains of the Day

Life in the country is not always kind. Take, for example, what remains of a mockingbird whose rhythm was a little off when sparring with a hawk. We found these feathers on the ground Saturday morning....sign of a fresh kill. I will probably use them in some of my collages. They are very clean and unspoiled and beautiful.

"The Rhythm Is Gonna Get You"

Tap, tap, _ tap, tap, tap.  Tap, tap,_tap, tap, tap. Slowly the rhythmic tapping intruded on my thoughts as I busily trimmed the overhanging branches along the north fence line. The sound came from behind me, so I ruled out a woodpecker - no trees back there. The rhythm was wrong anyway.  The only thing nearby was the truck, waiting for another load of brush.  Tap, tap, _ tap, tap, tap.  I thought of metal cooling, but I'd only moved the truck across the yard, not far enough to heat up any metal.  The rhythm was wrong, anyway.  I looked around and saw nothing unusual.  Still, the tapping continued, coming from the vicinity of the truck. It was almost eerie, as if a person were tapping, 1,2, 1,2,3, over and over.  By now a bit unnerved, I walked warily toward the truck and got right up to it before I saw the percussionist __ a mockingbird attacking the rear window.  No doubt it was the same nutty bird that was attacking the car last weekend. but it had a new rhythm today. Maybe it was indigestion induced by all the purple berries it had eaten and was rapidly depositing all over the truck box.  Clean up in aisle 2!   The crazy thing was undeterred by my presence, so I went back to clipping branches, tempted to cha cha to the beat as I worked.  That would have been a sight! When quitting time came, I moved the truck back to the driveway, and the bird rode half way across the yard with me, still pecking away at the glass.  Every day has its own rhythm out here in the country.