Going Domestic...

in more ways than one. I've been tidying up...my paint studio is gradually shrinking (maybe I don't need that shed after all...), and you can see the floor in my conservatory. I'm intending to work on this during the weekend, so there is a distinct halo of virtue around my head. My grannie would say to take care, in case it slips and chokes me...but hey.

The other domesticity is the beginnings of a bed quilt. I don't DO bed quilts, but this is for my son's wedding next year. My soontobe daughter in law wanted something in browns, and had a list of What Not To Include. I've tried to stick to it...honest I have... but some of those colours just err...slipped in there... as contrasts, you know. The quilt itself will be a scrap quilt, will include some of my handdyes, and will have bits of novelty cloth...you know the kind of thing. Music and books for my son, for example, who is obsessed with both. Just things to personalise the quilt for them. And of course, I hope they like it. If they don't, though, I rather hope they'll be brave enough to say so; I'd rather make them one they *do* like than have them have to tolerate one they don't.

The picture is of some of the selection of cloth I bought yesterday, which is now in the washing machine. Guess who'll be ironing this evening...sigh...

Dozy...

as usual, I hear you holler. Well, not quite. Travel is A Wonderful Thing, but I get really tired when I do it, or anything else that's particularly out of the usual. Tiredness is a recognised symptom of the demon depression, and I struggle with it quite a bit. So I've done the sensible thing, and taken everything out of my diary for this week, other than a meeting with my therapist, so that I can recover properly.

Recovering properly means, in my book, sitting with Mollie on my knee, or Advo, or anyone, really (not Robin, he's too heavy!). Sleeping a lot, reading a bit, catching up on the su-doku I didn't do last week (Robin kept the Times supplements for me), just generally loafing about, though I did do a bit of washing today in a fit of something or other... and, of course, talking to folks on the phone. I've come back with lots of ideas for creative work, but they'll keep until I'm sure I've got enough energy to take them forward. I used to just keep working on...and on...and on...until I dropped. I don't do that any more. It's not good for me, and it's not good for the work, either. Besides, the cats need the occasional good cuddle...that's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.

So I'll look at this lovely, peaceful photo (Oxburgh again), and be reminded that being still is good for both body and soul...sometimes.

Awww...

aren't they lovely... Not content with making you look at pictures of my cats, I now force you to look at my son and his fiancee... we went up to visit them last month, and this was taken in the ruined castle in which they're getting wed. I have to admit, though, that I'm also putting this up because Sally complained that she'd had to go look at someone else's blog to see what Sarah looked like (Andrew, she had seen). So, Sally, I've Done It Now...

We have only one child, not that he's a child any more, look at that stubble...sigh... I tried it, bought the tshirt, but decided against repeating the childbirth experience. No, that isn't why I have four cats... but I did convince Sarah that she absolutely had to get herself a cat...so she got two. So clearly the cat owning bit is infectious.

What, Another One?

Okay, I know. I have other blogs...

This one is different. The other blogs talk about The Art, pretty much. I've discovered that there's much more than that to talk about, and I thought I'd like a blog where I could write about The Rest Of It. The cats. The spouse. The friends. The visits. You know the kind of stuff...the stuff that happens around the art making. During the artmaking. Sometimes despite the artmaking. Though I draw the line at detailed descriptions of housework....not that I really do any, of course, but I'm good at pretending.

Of course, it might have been better to have waited until after France (see the other blog for more details)to launch Yet Another Blog on the unsuspecting world...but time is short and I'm impatient. Didn't you know that? I'm also vague, forgetful, charming, enthusiastic and above all, modest. Or, as those who know me well are aware, I used to be modest, now I'm perfect. Or was that prefect?

I live with Robin (said spouse) and four cats in a small village in Norfolk that nobody seems able to find...or maybe it's just that my directions are poor... No, that's unfair. I did talk to a lady the other day who said that she always got lost coming to this village. Doesn't seem to stop people finding the pub though...good food there, and an entertaining owner (I use the term loosely, your mileage may vary...). Try getting to the bar on a Friday or Saturday night...those are never all locals...

The picture is taken in the garden, and features the baby of the catty bunch, Merlin, who is very beautiful and also very thick. Thick as mince, really. Nervous to a fault, scared of his own shadow, not to mention everyone else's, but, like I said, very, very beautiful. And very, very loooong. Runs fast (gets plenty of practice). Catches the uncatchable, and usually eats it, too, (but runs away from humans and other cats, see gets plenty of practice, above...). Did he come from a Broken Home, I hear you ask? Not a bit of it. Born in a cat rescue shelter, where he got a lot of attention from us and from the lady who ran it, he came to us with his mum, Millie and 'aunt' Mollie, where he was fed and watered and loved like a prince among kittens. Did it make any difference? Did it heck as like. Nature versus nurture? Gimme nature over nurture every time. Well, okay, most of the time.

I think that's enough for now...you get the general drift... talk to you later....