Pouring rain this morning Girlfriends and I just heard the long wail of the boat whistle. What am I doing? Same ol’ same ol’. MUSICA? Get ready, it’s a little bit of heaven. ♥
My world is a bit of a Johnny-One-Note right now, just working on the 2015 calendars pretty much every day . . . in cause you wonder what I am doing, it’s this. Which is the reason I’m not writing on the blog as much ~ mostly I’m trying to get the calendars done and turned in. I finished the wall-calendar, the magnet calendar, the purse calendar and I’m working on the big blotter calendar right now . . . only nine months to go for that, then the Mini and I am done! So my life is pretty much the same thing every day. Up and attem with a break now and then for a trek to the post office or supermarket — smacked joyfully in the face with cold air and snow flakes twirling off the barn in the wind for a good little wake up call. Our neighborhood smells like woodsmoke because everyone is hunkered down.
This is when the little things in life are really all there are . . . little things like this squirrel who’s come to investigate our bird feeders . . .
Like the peaceful little view from my studio . . .
Storm after storm has come in this winter and our fireplace has been going snap, crackle and pop almost every day . . . In the photo below you can see my inspiration for the painting on the January page of my calendar . . . isn’t that fun? I love to paint the things around me.
But yesterday was amazing ~ instead of our normal 20° day . . . it was almost springlike ~ something we haven’t had in a long time. Most of our snow went away, birds were singing, Joe and I put on our boots and went for a muddy walk down the dirt road to the water. Thick fog was coming off the pond, warm air meets frozen ground blurred everything. This morning, when I was getting the photos ready for this post, rain was sheeting down my window panes, but just now, like the flick of a light switch, I looked out and the rain has turned to snow. Here we go again!
I go from my studio, and this view from my art table, to the kitchen to make tea, then out on the kitchen porch to look at the black shuttered houses around us and listen to the quiet in my neighborhood ~ I have to add, it looks exactly like this right this moment … pouring snow and our ground is all white again!
Although I’m working hard, you can see I’m pretty good at procrastination. I agree with Ellen DeGeneres who said, “Procrastination is not the problem, it’s the solution.” Everything from the gloriousness that is Downton Abbey (Daisy! What a doll! Poor little thing), to yesterday’s not-as-Super-as-we-expected-but-the-food-and-the-company-was-fabulous Bowl down at my girlfriend Lowely’s house. I made French Bread stuffed with Clam Dip (then baked for three hours) from my first book. Any little thing takes me away, and there are so many little things . . .
Hello. This is Jack’s “Do you have it? Should I get it? Where is it? Throw it-throw it-throw it!” face.
There it is my little play-boy. And to him, these are not the little things in life, these are the moments that make life worth living.
The eyes tell the whole story — IS HE NOT THE MOST ADORABLE KITTY THIS SIDE OF THE PECOS? I MEAN, REALLY! He kills me. I have to grab him, roll him about, wrap him in my shawl, moosh him and kiss him. I am mad about him, even when he steals my pencils and puts his foot in my paint water. His newest thing is that he climbs into my chair with me at night without me even begging. Cuddles up next to me, right there, with my hand in his neck fur.
So I do his every bidding. ♥
I place the ball at the top of his post and wait while he stalks it, tail wagging back and forth, then suddenly he leaps up and grabs it. Then we do it again. Next he will stand on top of his scratching post/playground, his eyes perfectly round and full of concentration; I throw the ball to him, he catches it in midair, then drops it on the floor, I go to it, bend over and pick it up, go back, and throw it again. And again. When I get bored, I will do the wild and crazy thing and throw it the length of the room. He will tear off the post, over the back of the chair, onto the couch, over the arm and across the room to where it fell, then trot back, full of kitty pride, red ball in mouth, to put it somewhere in my vicinity, and here we go again. It’s a thrill a minute here.
We do this for a while, until maybe he sees something lurking or flitting about outside. . .
For a kitty, there’s a lot to see from our kitchen windows. (BTW, FYI, we don’t keep Girl Kitty locked in a closet somewhere. She lives on the bed in the Peter Rabbit room and has total access to the rest of the house ~ but most of the time we have to go to her room to give her kisses. She’s just too shy for the real world and takes no chances.) MAS MUSICA?
Our driveway is sometimes lined in cardinals. Joe shovels a path to the barn so we can get out there to where we keep the birdseed, then he sprinkles it in the path . . . and here they come! Now whenever they’re in the yard when we drive in the driveway — when we get out of the car, they don’t run. They like us! I hope this is OK. I’ve never had turkeys for friends before (uh, maybe one or two along the way come to think of it); I’m not quite sure what to expect. Is this a good thing? So far, so good.
Jack thinks the turkeys are exciting, but . . .
no where near as interesting as the neighbor’s cats . . . and this one thinks the turkeys might make a delicious lunch, or worse, really a fun toy . . . he’s actually stalking them.
He did this for a good fifteen minutes while Jack and I watched . . . we wondered what this cat would do with an entire turkey if he accidentally got one.
But that wasn’t going to happen. He rushed them and they scattered . . .
That blew his mind, turkeys in all directions, which should he go to first?
I don’t think the turkeys were as respectful of the kitty as the kitty thought they should be but Jack loved every moment of it.
So I warm up some broccoli soup while the heat from the furnace vent blows across the wooden floor and wraps around my slippered feet ~ I put bread into the toaster and hang up our favorite Valentine while Frank sings “Hate California, it’s cold and it’s damp!”
And just in case you think we have nothing blooming around here . . . no green things growing, look at this! How can you possibly think I don’t lead the most exciting life!
We have a
turnip oops, rutabaga that loves the weather in our kitchen . . . It looks like the earth, isn’t it beautiful? I don’t think we can eat this even though they are delicious mashed with butter and a little nutmeg or diced and roasted in olive oil on a cookie sheet in a hot oven, then just salted and peppered. But this one, due to charm quotient, is getting a presidential pardon.
Another little thing . . . the mail, our connection to the real world. It came and look what I got! It’s the January/February issue of the new magazine that has the interview I posted back a few weeks ago. I hope this lovely effort manages to be successful in this odd transitional period we are going through for things in actual print. It’s thick (153 pages and no ads), filled with cooking, crafts, travel, how-to’s; the cover is soft and smooth, the paper is nice, the stories are interesting, and the photos are gorgeous.
So much work. And here’s us . . .
Six lovely pages of us . . .
There’s lots of Valentine ideas and decor . . .
. . . and a wonderful sixteen-page visit to Chatsworth House in England. (Jane Austen visited Chatsworth ~ she made it the model for Mr. Darcy’s house when she wrote Pride and Prejudice.)
Plus the recipe for these cookies is inside too ~ and so much more!
Ah yes, winter.
With love from the Heart of the Home, located right around the corner from I’m OK and So Are You. ♥ Back to work Girlfriends! XOXO