Friday, October 22, 2010


It was just another morning at work. Following a customer's instructions, I had finished a logo depicting three cowboys holding bricklayer's tools high in the air while sitting on horses (I'm not making this up) to be printed with text and phone number on tee shirts.  I saved the art and then sent it to my printer.  Suddenly everything went black.  Alarms went off all over the building as computer power source backups kicked in.  No electricity.  The boss was gone on vacation.  He was phoned.  His instructions were for everyone possible to take an early lunch.

From the darkness in the office I could see blue sky and golden trees out the window.  I thought I could save the boss even more employee pay.  I took the rest of the day off.

I hurried home,  jumped into some blue jeans, jammed a baseball cap on my head, grabbed my bike (yes, I keep it in the house…remember, no garage) and hurried out the door.

 Up the hill I went--

--past the harvested grain fields; now planted with winter wheat and getting a drink from a huge center-pivot sprinkler.

 On I continued past thousands of acres of emptied potato fields.

 Then down the road by new potato cellars 
recently packed to the ceilings with harvest.

 I passed old spud cellars being used for storage of excess harvest or farm equipment.

I went east until--

--I came to this sign.  I was on my street bike and a long way from town.  

This day was probably the very last of such perfect weather, but I was sweaty and thirsty and out of road.  Hadda go home and face housework.

After enlightenment—the laundry.
Zen proverb

Wednesday, October 20, 2010


They're just sketches. That means " hasty or undetailed drawing or painting often made as a preliminary study."  But  I didn't even finish them.  Until now.

Okay, the Jersey cow was done.  She was fun with all her big eyes and white nose and suntanned sides.

I was playing with contrasting lights and darks with the hens.  
Still trying to not get caught up in all the details of the Plymouth Rock's black and whites.

I started on the little goat, but got carried away with the background.  
It got so soggy I had to let it dry.
The sketch remained uncompleted until just a few days ago.

So I went to work on Stella's Boat.  
But it soon looked like it had sprung a leak and was going under fast. 
I finally fixed it the other day.

Monday, October 18, 2010


Last Wednesday as I was getting ready for work, I looked out the window
and saw my car looked like this.

We finally had a night so cold that all the windows were covered with frost.  I was already running late and running out the door.  So I had to start up my car to run the defrost, and then find the window scraper I hadn't used since last May, or maybe June.  I forget.  It took a while to locate the scraper in the little cubby slot under the mat in the hatch that is carefully designed to hold a fishing rod.  Scrape, scrape, grumble grumble.

Many homes in this part of the world have a garage.  We don't because the only logical place for one would cover up my big kitchen window. NOT an option.  And, besides, if we had a garage we'd just fill it with junk so a car wouldn't fit in it anyway.   Whatever. Wednesday I was late for work.

Thursday morning when I looked out the window
my car looked like this.

Well, I knew where the scraper was, but I figured I could walk to work faster than I could warm up the car and clear the windows.  To add insult, I was about halfway there when the boss passed me in his fancy pickup (he's got a big roomy garage).  He honked his horn and kept on going down the street.  I was late again.

Friday I remembered to warm up the car so the defrost cleared the windows.  I even remembered this morning.  About the time this little procedure becomes second nature, the winter will be over and I won't need to do it.  Wait.  What am I thinking.  I will be defrosting my car for the next seven months.  I think I'll have this down long before we hear a robin sing again.