I love the way light pours into this little bathroom. It makes an ordinary, yet necessary, room feel so warm and welcoming. The repeating black and white pattern in the tile and radiator cover make me smile, too.
For more shadowy goodness, visit Hey Harriet! And hey - find your own shadow patterns and snap a shot, then play along!
Right now. I mean it.
We're camping in the deep dark woods.
The deep dark woods with the wireless internet service.
Roughing it.
It has been raining. Here and there. Intermittently. At night.
But tonight...wow. How I wish I had night vision goggles hooked up to my camera. I was stepping outside the camper when I heard a low trilling sound. I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye, and definite something landing 10 feet away, on the timber that surrounds the campsite. I got my flashlight and pointed it in that direction.
There was a little red screech owl sitting RIGHT THERE.
Looking at me like, "Dude. What's with the light? I'm an owl." But it stayed. RIGHT THERE.
I called the boys out and we stood and watched as what appeared to be the mama owl (the red one) flew around talking to her baby owls (fuzzy gray ones.) She occasionally flew down onto the ground and scooped up lizards and worms to take back to them. They flew from branch to branch, ungainly and awkward, constantly trilling to keep in touch with her.
It totally reminded me of my day today, with the boys, only without the worms. And I didn't make them eat the lizard.
Babies.
Anyway, I walked up to within about 5 feet of Mama Screechy. She was all, "Whatev. I don't even see you there. I'm completely ignoring you, twit. What are you - the paparazzi or something?" (You should totally add a Rosie Perez accent right there, because that is what I heard. I swear.)
It was so cool, that we watched that show for about 20 minutes, instead of Star Trek. The original Star Trek. First season.
Shut up.
Aaaah. I'm sitting. But not driving.
That's a very good thing.
Although...I wouldn't have done it any other way. I actually still have 500 miles left in my trip, but I'll let Dr. SmartyPants handle that bit.
I had a REALLY great time in Shreveport. It was too fast - but then again, it always is. There are never enough hours in the day to squeeze in all the things that we can talk about.
We took in a Shreveport-Bossier Captains baseball game - super duper minor league baseball. It was like the movie, Bull Durham, minor league. Just great stuff. The man selling beer had the funniest yodeling beer call I've ever heard. And one guy in the stands, young...well on his way to drunk...was the loudest and most hilarious heckler of the opposing team I've ever heard.
Ever.
He was completely opposed to the third baseman of the Grand Prairie Airhogs. Our favorite insult that he hurled was, "14! Hey, 14! Sweet mullet!" That was among the least offensive things he said. When he started dropping the F-bomb, a lady near him got up and yelled at him for a few minutes before she found the manager of the ball park, and the police were dispatched.
After that, things were relatively boring, so we left.
The next night, we headed out to Mudbug Madness, a street festival in downtown Shreveport.
We ate and ate. Then we had some food.
Music, food, friends, beer, dancing. It just doesn't get much better than that.
My pictures are a little crazy, because the light was ridiculously bad, but they still give such good flavah...
A big ole bucket o' mudbugs.
Melinda and her sweet husband, Robert.
But, I like to call him "Skipper."
Everything tastes better on a stick!
Zydeco, baby. Chubby Carrier and the Bayou Swamp Band. Melinda's friend Crystal got to meet the guitar player there on the right - excuse me...I mean Randy Ellis, the ridiculously good guitar player on the right. Melinda and I played wingmen. We have no idea how to do that.
Chubby. I got to talk to Chubby after the show. Super nice guy. Had his whole family with him, including his super-cute daughter, who sang with him on one song.
Earl Sally on the washboard. I've never seen anyone with that much energy. He was all over the stage, and off of it too - at one point he led a long conga line all over the pavilion. Really nice guy, too.
The one picture I didn't get was one of me and Melinda together. I guess we'll just have to save that for next time!
Tomorrow, we'll head out to camp for the week - a little relaxation after a whirlwind journey, and just the breath of fresh air I need...
Melinda and I are making up for lost time by staying up too late and talking until our throats hurt.
And I've been hanging out with this bit of fluffy cuteness...
I carved this block a week or so ago, and used some sort of stamping ink I had lying around to test it out on copy paper. I based it on the drawing I did of a row house in Georgetown last month. I'm thinking of doing a series of them, as block prints, in analogous colors.
I'm at stop two in the great road trip of 2009, sitting on my in-laws' couch, being waited on hand and foot while my children completely ignore me. I love this place.
Willie and I are heading out tomorrow, bright and early for the last leg of the trip, which includes an early morning breakfast with my folks, who live just down the road from here. From there, I'll make my way to the burg where I grew up - that same town I left as soon as I could legally manage it, at the tender age of 17. I'll revisit some old haunts, avoid a few others, and discover some new places. In the meantime, I'm going to have SIX WHOLE HOURS OF ME AND WILLIE NELSON ON MY IPOD.
WITH NO INTERRUPTIONS.
Okay.
I have other music, too.
But seriously. Six hours of uninterrupted nobody but me in my immediate vicinity.
Heaven.
Most, if not all, of my drama is self-created. I hope you all understand that. I don't. But I usually catch myself before I lose it entirely.
So. I am chillin'. I sat on the couch last night and drew this pear that exists only in my memory. I started with colored pencils, which were too hard for the paper, then broke out the gouache and just played a bit. I love how gouache looks on this paper, although the paper really needs to be stretched to keep it from buckling. Maybe, someday, I'll do that - stretch it and paint and watch the magic.
I'm also counting my blessings, out loud and in print:
And oh, so many more...
If only I could remember these and all the rest BEFORE my brain explodes from the minutiae of irritation daily living brings. Then?
Well. That'd be about perfect, now, wouldn't it?
***edited: PLUS - look what my sweet baby J drew for me today. JUST FOR ME.
Fritillaria in Gouache
I know it isn't a word. But it's really fun to say.
Frittlerlyfritterlyfritterly.
Makes my tongue tingle.
The scan doesn't show the colors as well as I had hoped - there's a lot more variation in the orange - from yellow all the way through to a deep red. Maybe I'll try and take a photo to see if it is any better, but I always have a rough time getting reds to show up well...
***
Wednesday was...
Well.
Folks, it was a crap day. There. I've said it. It really was. It was one of those days that just takes all the wind out of your sails and punches you in the gut and then pinches your nose really hard just for fun. I'm not much of a crier, but people...I've been close today.
Was there tragedy and mayhem? No. Just life. Nothing major. Nothing worth talking about, except as an aftermath kind of note. It was the kind of day where kids tiptoe around hoping mom isn't going to start yet another long lecture on the reasons we need to remember math facts or how lying never solved an issue and oh my word, do you call that making up your bed?
I can't even blame it on hormones. It's just that some days, even though I know how incredibly blessed I am to have this life - and believe me - I know it, I'm just weary.
Weary of the laundry and the dishes and the dusting and the ironing and the schoolwork and the dog poop in the backyard.
Weary of the books I read and the drawings I make and the music I play and the blog posts I write and the constant worrying about how I am screwing up my kids.
Just weary. And maybe a bit whiny.
And very much in need of a vacation.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to draw a muy gordo chihuahua that has wiggled his way under your leg on the couch? It ain't no siesta, amigos.
This dog.
Is fat.
We can't really figure out why. He eats about 3/4 cup of food a day - the minimum recommended, and even then, he doesn't always finish it all. He doesn't get enough exercise, that's for sure, but neither does Oscar, and he's a lean, mean, shedding machine.
Chico is just an old fat guy. Excuse me. And old fat GRUMPY guy who snarls at children.
We went to a park nearby on Sunday, and all the little children wanted to pet the cute little fat dog and the pretty sleek big dog. Oscar stuck out his butt and let everyone scratch it, tongue lolling about and grinning at all the cute babies. Before we left, people were walking by, calling him by name and promising to bring him dog biscuits and toys, pointing him out to other people in the park like a doggy celebrity. "Have you met Oscar? Oscar is great! Such a happy dog. Too bad about that other one!"
Chico sat under the bench, between my feet, and growled at everyone while I explained to the littles that Chico is a mean, mean, nasty Chihuahua. Please don't touch the mean dog. He's mean. And mean.
Strangely enough, he's actually mellowed a lot since we got him. He used to snarl at the boys, too, but 5 years later, he's finally decided they might be okay. Maybe. As long as they don't touch him.
Or look at him.
But we keep him around anyway. He's an excellent foot warmer in the winter - especially when we are camping. He can stand on his hind legs and box his front paws like a circus dog. He can snatch a chocolate bar wrapper off a side table before you can say lickety-split. He's fiercely loyal and always on guard against delivery men and the mail carrier.
Plus, when you need a little entertainment, you can flip him on his back like a turtle and watch him flail.
That's just good, clean fun right there.
What a lovely Mothers Day I had. Is it Mother's Day or Mothers Day or Mothers' Day? I never can figure it out. And really...who cares. It's all about the Mamas, no?
Dr. SmartyPants cooked me a lovely breakfast, and my boys cuddled up with me on the sofa and one of them even remembered to say "Happy Mothers Day" without prompting. The other doesn't wake up quite so well and needed a reminder, but he quickly jumped into my lap and snuggled in and mumbled "Hphmuhday," and that worked just fine.
We spent the day quietly. We walked the pups to one park and let the boys play there while Oscar was loved on by everyone that passed by and Chico growled from under the park bench. We walked to another park and sat in the shade while the bugs played Joe and Frank Hardy and solved a few thousand mysteries. We went home and mowed the grass and pulled a few weeds from the garden. Doodlebug got to try his hand at mowing for the first time and did a great job (with the Smarty trailing him, holding the power cord).
I sat in the back yard and drew this iris that was blooming by the gate and soaked in the sunshine.
We all sat at the patio table and ate popcorn and read our respective books.
We watched a "Naked Science" episode about the earth's crust while we ate our spaghetti. Mama's choice. 'Cause I'm geeky that way.
We laughed and we hugged and we rested and we loved.
It's hard to imagine that life could get any better than this.
See... I thought it was "April showers bring May flowers." Not "April flowers bring May showers."
The forecast for now through Saturday? Rain. Rainy rain rain. Then? It's going to rain, did I mention the rain?
I drew this parrot tulip (yes. look closely. it is a flower.) from a photo I took at Mount Vernon on a very sunny and warm day a week and a half ago. It was sunny then.
I remember the sun. It's kind of the opposite of rain.
On the bright (sunny, non-rainy) side, it does give me ample time to draw and paint in the studio, and to play around with some different art-making activities. I've got two or three irons in the fire right now - but you'll have to wait, now won't you?
Technically, I started this one before Every Day in May began, but I worked on it in May, so it counts. I drew it from a photo I took at the National Zoo a couple of weeks ago. It always amazes me to see a Bald Eagle up close. They are so big and muscular and fierce. That beak is a force to be reckoned with, isn't it?
***
We were supposed to go see a German car show yesterday, but it got rained out. It's been raining pretty solidly since sometime Saturday evening or Sunday morning, which makes all of us want to stay in our pajamas and curl up on the couch with a good book or five. We had to get up and go to the eye doctor to get Junebug's glasses checked out, but I think we'll be changing back into the jammies here in a few minutes...or when we finish our lessons for the day. Poor Dr. SmartyPants. He has to stay dressed all day.
***
We went to a local pancake house for breakfast yesterday morning. The food was good, but I was more interested in the party seated at the table next to us. It appeared to be a mother and daughter, neither one of whom weighed more than 100 pounds. TINY women. I felt like an Amazon. HUGE. They sat facing each other across a very small table, not speaking. Each stared at a spot slightly to the left of the other's head, looking incredibly bored and slightly irritated. When their food was delivered, I saw that they had ordered the same thing - a GIGANTIC thing that looked like the world's largest cinnamon roll, covered in powdered sugar. Each. One could easily have fed a family of six.
No kidding, it was as big as the plate. I wanted so badly to lean over and say, "Really? Are you kidding me? You're going to eat that? It's as big as bigger than your head!" But I didn't. Because I'm all polite and well-mannered and too busy trying to eavesdrop on their almost non-existent conversation. Instead, I just kicked Dr. SmartyPants under the table and rolled my eyes in their direction and made faces to try and convey my shock and awe.
Yes, I am just that engaged with my family. Thank you. I deserve an award.
People - let me tell you - little tiny women can pack away a lot of cinnamon rolls. They did take away a little of the monstrosities in their to-go boxes, but not a lot. What I really wanted to do was follow them out to their car and ask them how in the world they could eat like that and stay so tiny.
But I was too busy chewing on my rasher of bacon. Amazonian women need their strength, you know.
Grace Episcopal Church, Georgetown, Washington, DC
For more lovely shadow shots, head over to Hey Harriet! and click on the links...
I'm back in Arlington, resting up for a busy week. I'll be back tomorrow with some Every Day in May items.
Peace...
It's May! Yippee!! I love May.
It's the start of Every Day in May, where I'll draw or paint every day.
This is obviously not a drawing or a painting, nor was it taken in May.
However. I drew today. But I'm in Knoxville, many many miles away from my scanner.
So...you'll have to wait until I get back to Arlington...sometime tomorrow.
Have a spectacularly springy Saturday, peeps.
