Air and Water

'A tail of Air and Water' is now available to the world and not just flying in our staircase.

 

Many of Thomas's drawings were illustrations for stories he had written or half-written or dreamed of writing. One day I will collate his written work too and see if somehing can be made of it.

Meanwhile Pickle and I have been adventuring in the sunshine. We visited our friends' home and were wowed by the massive stone which stands over their land and the rhodedendron flowers bigger than Pickle' head which smelled of a heady mix of bubblegum and sex. We climbed inside the branches but the scent was overpowering. We scrambled back out, only seconds away from being transported to another realm.

 

With Pickle's Gappy we explored (and much coveted) outbuildings

 

and in buildings

then ran and ran across green fields of tiny wildflowers and found rare plants and stoat poo and a lightning-struck tree and the upper limits of how much bog mud one dog can wear.

We've had more fun at Forest School

and talked with the ponies and their foals at the end of our road.

We've been out in the warm evenings, listening to our friends make music round fires and on Saturday I dared (just) take us to the art auction for Proper Job. I cannot tell you how scared I was that no-one would bid for my work. It seemed all I heard that week was people saying they couldn't come, or they could but they wouldn't be bidding as they didn't have any money and similar must have reached the organiser's ears because she was making contingency plans for anything which didn't sell. This is some of the work in the preview during the day:

So, we milled about and all hoped to win the original Alan Lee drawing in the raffle and then it was time for the actual auction and guess who was up first? With dignity and an air of confidence in myself and my work, I hid my burning face in Pickle's neck and rocked a little while three wonderful people bid. It was only a very modest ping-pong-ping, but for the first piece of the night it did fine and it has found a very loving home. The woman who made the winning bid kindly contacted me to send this:

and a picture of Tulip Field which she had bought before the auction:

Half-term is coming and I am glad. Pickle and I really need some time to just be together. No adventures planned; no late nights for a bit; just me and my girl bimbling around our garden like the happy, heavy bees.

An Exhibition and Talk of Marriage

We have reversed roles. Pickle is now well enough to gambol off to nursery and I am increasingly ragged of nostril and lung - not a pretty sight. A friend has brought a jar of mountain sage to brew on the hob for a few days and hopefully enable me to talk again.

But enough of such gloomy talk. Shall we have a happy post for once? Yes, let's.

Here is a whistlestop tour of the fun we've been having of late:

We've spent time with Pickle's special hound-friend, looking at the world through tinted lenses

playing Red Riding Hood

 

but we all know how that story ends

and that the danger is really from these beautiful ingrates.

We have been finding secret ways,

managing the elements,

 being amazed by autumn abundance

and wondering why the ponies don't want to talk to our horse, even when he talks to them.

Meanwhile, Pickle's beloved Gappy has been very poorly and my mum has has her double mastectomy. Mum's home after only one night in hospital and doing fine - in fact, she's quite typically mostly concerned about myself and Gappy.

And back at the ranch, I am having a little exhibition in The Courtyard throughout November.

Rex of Barleycorn fame arrived just as I was starting to hang my work (in my straightforward hammer-and-nail style), bearing fancy picture hanging wires, which worked fine on the framed pieces, but the originals (on the right wall) were too light, so I did get to do some banging. And the lovely Rima of Hermitage fame came to lend a hand and assure me it was all fine and I could stop and drink my coffee.

The three larger originals are new, so they warrant a solo moment each.

Large Flower Meadow:

Tulip Field:

Meadow Hill:

There's also the perpetual calendars drawn by the late, great Thomas, all my postcards, unframed versions of the framed prints and some new seasonal cards. The Courtyard is a lovely place to be, but if you find yourself far from Devon, you can hop across to my blossoming Etsy shop, where I may or may not be serving cake.

And if all THAT isn't cheering enough, then let me share an especially happy moment with you.

PICKLE: Mama, when can I get married? [This from nothing - we were reading about a dog!]

ME: Well, you can marry when you're sixteen, but you might want to wait longer or not marry at all. You can only marry one person, so you need to choose very carefully.

PICKLE: I know who I'm going to marry when I'm sixteen.

ME: Who's that? [Connor, Noah, Erick, Reuben?]

PICKLE: I'm going to marry you Mama.

Reader, I cried. And I didn't contradict her. This proposal may only be my second favourite because the first had the advantage of chips. And a cuckoo, who still calls in the long hot days.

But those days are gone, so now for another fat mug of mountain sage and honey - this stuff's good :o).