Well, I made it to drawing 500 yesterday - YEEHOO! - and I resisted the siren call of Northern Exposure viewing until today, when I had a binge on three episodes. It is as almost as enchanting as I remember it from the first time around.
I counted the drawings still remaining to be posted after my long hiatus, and today's (not posted yet) is number 496 - I'm getting very close to 500! In a fit of advance celebration - I did promise myself a reward for getting to 500 drawings - I ebayed a copy of the first season of Northern Exposure. I so loved that show. It's responsible, in part, for my trip to Alaska (I was in Canada, how could I not go further North?). The DVD arrived today, but I will try to be resolute and not watch any episodes in advance of Saturday, when I will make drawing number 500. Since I am very much instant-gratification-girl, that may be a challenge...
I scored The Needlworker's Dictionary at the Dandenong Savers for $5.99. It's a lovely book, great illustrations, and a few pages of private correspondence tucked into the back as a bonus. I especially like the squirrel and bird pictured below.
Discovering Needlecraft came from an op shop in Sandringham a year or two ago. It is (or was) a monthly magazine on stitching, and came with a little project of aida cloth, threads, needle and pattern. There are 40-some issues here, most with their stitching project intact. Some day I'll tackle them! It didn't have a price on it, and when the lady at the counter said fifty cents an issue or the lot for $5, I couldn't get my money out fast enough :)
Three white/off white cotton socks, knitted from op-shopped or trash'n'treasure market yarn (can't quite recall where it came from). I have a little yarn left, but not enough for a fourth sock. If two socks is a pair, is this a trio? Triad? I plan to dye these, perhaps green and purple. It won't matter if they don't match, then I can wear any two of the three together. Unless I find more cotton yarn, then I can knit another sock (or two) - would five socks in a set be quins? Or just weird?
I saw a ceramic by Tibor Reich on The Antiques Roadshow, and this owlish face stuck in my head.
I'm practicing bloggy avoidance: not avoidance of the blog, but of writing a job application I should be working on. Bleuch. Must resist looking up Tibor Reich on the innernet...must write boring response to selection criteria...picture me with my head in my hands, groaning.
The tree dahlias are blooming again, perhaps slightly earlier, but I didn't think they would get to this stage at all. First, February's 45 degree temperatures and burning winds crisped them (literally - to the point I assumed they were dead) as if blowtorched. But they came good: new leaves bursting forth to make them just as lush as they were before Black Saturday, even if their stems were somewhat spindlier. Then the week after Easter, there was a windstorm with speeds over 100kmh and the poor dahlias took another beating, to the ground with their poor new skinny stems. However, they're so resilient that even those that couldn't be stood and tied upright again (and my fence is not up to holding too much weight) started growing for the sun again. The branches I couldn't stand up I just pushed out of the walk way, and they're flowering too, prostrate though they are. There are fewer blossoms than other years, and more sporadic instead of massess of flowerheads, but I'm glad they made it all.
I have a double white form in addition to the pinky-mauve, but it flowers later - the buds are just forming. The broad beans are mostly up, just a couple of gaps, as is the spinach (hard to tell from the weeds at this point, until they grow a few more adult leaves) and the snowpeas. The rosemary is looking healthier after a little rain, so is the sage, though not as robust. Oh, and the chives have popped their heads up over the edge of their container, too, also after being par-cooked by the weather. I much prefer gardening when I'm not being baked, either.
An anonymous ferocious creature left half a ringtail possum on the backyard lawn a while back (well, I say "half a possum" - there was a head, a tail, some bits and a lot of fur). I buried it and waited for the worms and microbes to do their thing, then couldn't find the bones when I dug up the burial site. Why was I looking for them? I want the bones for an art thingummy that's percolating in the back of my mind.
Lo, a couple of weeks later, dried off and bleached by the sun, the little beauty above caught The Bloke's eye. It even has tiny teeth still embedded in the jaw. I find bones fascinating, though many tell me I'm morbid. So be it!
While cycling past, The Bloke spotted the unfortunate raven above on the side of the highway. We made a dusk trip to collect the body (I balked at the last moment and made him pick it up in the plastic bag) and now the birdy is in the side yard also waiting for nature to reduce it to its constitutent parts so I can have a raven skull and hopefully some other bones. I didn't bury this corpse because birds have such delicate bones that they break down very fast - above the earth I can monitor its progress. Yes, it was kinda stinky for a few days, but the smell has pretty much disappeared now.
We improvised a charming song for the occasion: "Some enchanted evening you will meet a raven You will meet a raven stinking up the road Scrape him off the highway, take him home to finish..."
After almost six months of unemployment, I think I need to get out more. I have a bad case of cabin fever at the moment. Pottering around quite contentedly - drawing, making other art, sewing, gardening (should be more housework on that list, but that ain't ever gonna happen!) - when I'm not actively job-seeking (which happens every day, but I can't spend every waking hour looking for jobs that just aren't there) but I'm suffering from lack of outside stimulation. Most days I don't talk to anyone but the cats (or myself), except for a brief chat with The Bloke when he drops the newspaper off on his way home. The other day I went to a movie just to hear voices other than my own!
Perhaps I'll have a hunt for a part-time volunteer job.
I'm 48, female, just finished a two year course in Visual Arts, and am now back in the market for a job (boo!). I worked in the library field for the better part of three decades and two years ago took the plunge from a job that made me unhappy to go back to school. I've loved every moment of it and as soon as I have enough money to tide me over being a poverty stricken student I'm going back for more!