I have been spending mornings doing chores outside before the heat begins to kick in too much. After watching "Stargate Atlantis" reruns at lunchtime I sit and work on my fantasy painting "Seawitch". She's coming along although sometimes I wonder if the subject's green skin makes her look like she's decomposing rather than sleeping.
I took her along to art on Wednesday and did get a little done before it was time to leave. I was also lent books by three different people so must get down to some serious reading in the evenings. I often read two to three books at a time although I have long since given up on my childhood ambition to read every book ever written! When I think about it my family (and many of my friends) don't talk about books very often if at all. The only person who I could really talk to about them was my grandfather who was of course an ex schoolteacher and Renaissance man who would stay awake till 1am each night reading. Not too great when you're a farmer and need to get up early but I guess that's what he kept Granny for.
Often when Gay and I are on our own we discuss poetry, well actually my poetry which she has actually read (the woman needs a medal). Two weeks ago we sequed (finally I get to use that word) onto short stories of which I have written a grand total of two in the last nine years. I have promised her I will show them to her and I hope she can stand the shock as they're pretty dark.
When I was a child I used to write fiction incessantly. Horse stories mainly about young girls who tamed black/white/Palamino stallions or else owned riding stables. I kept notebooks full of stories but one day came in to find my mother and elder sister holding one and laughing while reading one aloud. It took me quite a while to get back into it by which time my fertile imagination had withered and fallen over.
But to end on a brighter note here are the little bugs I painted for the December sale. My favourite type of insect as they don't crawl all over you or need spraying.