Began the month with roses, ending with wine. I've been on vacation for two days, and it feels good to put my feet up...
June 2009 Archives
Not local, but fragrant.
The remains of a summer day. And maybe the beginnings of a project tomorrow.
We met friends up at Lake Arthur this evening. Some people swam while I drew, we had a picnic, I drew some more, and then we watched the sunset and headed home again.
Yellow crayon, left over from another project.
Youngest decided to make a change, and she let me cut her hair on the front porch after supper. With a cell phone camera, it's much easier to give haircuts - no interruptions. I can share snapshots of the cut as we go along, and she doesn't need to run inside to look in the mirror. Her brothers approved of the result, and it passed the crucial spin-around-as-fast-as-you-can-and-see-how-it-looks-afterwards test.
I have been trying to savor the last of the local strawberries, to think of summer as just beginning... and then it appears: the first zucchini. I'm not ready.
Guitar pick - one of a small handful on the table. Younger son has gotten more serious about his guitar playing, and since it's vacation, he can practice for several hours each day. So he does.
Now in bloom.
Crumpled silk scarf.
I drew while in line this morning. After an hour and twenty minutes of waiting, I was let into the store and bought my new phone. I'm already enjoying the video camera and the snappier response time for applications and the web. I enjoyed the waiting, too - was glad the store is on a street and I could watch clouds and passers by.
Well, not yet. I got my first cell phone almost two years ago, and now I'm eligible for an upgrade. The lines outside the store were not short, and then of course I went and stood in the wrong one. When I got near the front, I was told, "wrong line." Went to the end of that one. Nothing moving... gave up and went to work. After work, I stood in a different line, and was told, "Try tomorrow." So I will.
Take-out carton from supper tonight.
More strawberries from the farm today, and the box is already half gone.
Holding a piece of paper and thinking.
Made of very worn glass - you can scarcely read the numbers on it.
Small ball of string on the table.
You can see the stream from the porch. You can hear it anywhere in the house.
Visiting a friend's cabin for the weekend. I hear distant dogs barking. English accents from the movie in the other room don't quite hide the sound of the creek, a bird, and laughter.
Local.
Looking up under the shade.
I'm not sure who found this, or why it was in the living room, but I liked the shape of it.
Brush pen with non-waterproof ink, then used a waterbrush to pick up a wash from the ink on the page.
An unknown red rose sprawls onto the front porch - tangles itself in the porch swing. The individual blossoms aren't beautiful, the scent is faint, but when it is in full bloom, the overall effect is glorious.
We were walking home from the bus stop tonight and my daughter pointed out the full moon. We'd been downtown at the symphony, and it was way way past bedtime, so I looked, and then went inside to get her to bed. This was drawn from memory, later.
Evening still life, coffee table.
Perhaps this is also controversial garden produce? I love rhubarb, but I gather that others don't like it so much. (All the more rhubarb ginger crisp for me, thank you.)
First spinach from the farm tonight. I loathed spinach as a child, and now it's one of my favorite vegetables.
Swept the front porch, and cleared away some old boxes. We've been sitting on the steps and the porch swing in the evenings, and it seemed like a good idea.
The yard is now full of bloom... I make excuses to wander outside at dusk.
