CHRISTINA'S WORLD

A few years ago I made pilgrimage to Cushing, Maine to, among other things, see the place made famous by a great American, Andrew Wyeth.

His death last January marked the passing of one of the great U.S. artists of the twentieth century.

"Christina's World" is one of his best known works.

This is the location as I saw it during my visit.

Wyeth made many paintings in and around the Olsen house. This one is called, "Weatherside."

  That angle of the house as I saw it.

CHRISTINA’S
 A clapboard house that smelled of mold and oldness.
Walls damp and musty leaned against the ceiling.
A door fastened to hold in old dreams.
Ancient lilacs grew toward the ragged roof.
A pebble path led through a patchy yard.
Sea sounds hissed through the air.

  Can't visit Maine without taking on a lobster!

PRETTY LITTLE HORSES

I’ve always loved horses. I rode horses as a kid on the farm. Not fancy horses. One was so fat he was like riding the sofa. My short legs meant the horse had to be standing by something I could use to boost myself up, even when there was a saddle involved.
Owning a horse is expensive. Grazing land, barn, feed, water, tack, vet bills and transportation must be added to the initial expense of the animal. Not to mention the daily maintenance. So now I just look at horses.

Not far from our house in most directions are pastures full of horses. In one specific field there are new babies.

They are all Appaloosa foals. The American Appaloosa traces its roots back to Spanish stock that became prized by the Nez Perce Indian tribe of what is now northern Idaho.
The Indians bred the horses for endurance, short mane and tail for traveling in high brush, and good temper.
Then, of course, there are the markings.

The coat is spotted in one of several specific patterns from a speckled white rump to being mottled all over.
Idaho officially adopted the Appaloosa as the state horse in 1975.
Pretty little horses.

WET WEATHER

Our part of the world has been rained on almost every day for weeks.

The columbines in my garden have thrived; even to the point of becoming giant weeds. They have overpowered some smaller plants and almost hidden the bird bath. The pounding rain has left some flowers bedraggled. Others just soak it up. The wheat fields are doing okay. The potato fields are not. Things are green, but muddy, muddy, muddy.