On the Ball

 My granddaughter has a wicked, leaning to sarcastic, sense of humour. I think it’s an inherited trait.

When I had a major relapse of my MS last winter, I ended up unable to walk and in a wheelchair. There were a lot of changes that needed to be made, plus the healing of fractures from a fall, so I was content to be home, managing my transfers and spending longer periods in the chair.

Spring came with sunny skies, warmer temperatures and the need to be outside, to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. Only problem was the 2 inch rise at the door. I would move until I met that obstacle and just sit in the open doorway. 

That’s where I was sitting one day as I said goodbye to my 20 year old granddaughter. As she walked down the path I called out that I’d gone as far as I could. She quickly replied “if you’d learn to behave yourself they might take your ankle monitor off”.

A smart ass for sure, she keeps me laughing.

To give her back a bit of my smart ass, I found an old picture of her and sent it to her with the following caption. “Always knew you had a lot on the ball”

A Matter of Time

 

My daughter said it was only a matter of time before I mistakenly used my coffee cup to wash my paint brushes. My supposed art table is very crowded. Bottles of gesso, matte medium, the one for brushes and the water bottle I never drank yesterday. 

I’m using an old magazine for a palette, easy to rip off a page at a time. So there are paint brushes and palette knives. 

Then there’s the paper towels and baby wipes.  If there are any painters out there, baby wipes will take off paint, so you can use it to lighten, or edit. Better if you seal the canvas first. I use matte medium to seal what I like and want to preserve, then if next bit doesn’t work I can baby wipe it off.

I’ve been painting like mad, with numerous works on the go, so have canvases all over the room in various  states of completion.  

There is a juried show in the local art gallery next month. I have entered this show off and on since 1987 and have always had at least one, if not more, submissions accepted.  

Let’s hope I can keep my streak going, and then find storage for all the completed works.

Rites of summer

 There are certain things I do every summer, unfortunately all are food related. In my physical state I’m not about to be cliff diving or bungee jumping.

Alas, I never was able to do the first on my list…roadside French fries from a mobile kitchen. There is just nothing like freshly cooked, hand cut fries. This has been a “must-do” for many years, decades really. I used to take the kids out to the road that travelled along the south shore of Rice Lake. The chip wagon was parked on the corner, where the lake road met the county road that came north from town and the highway. 

It was a busy spot, from Friday until Sunday with the summer crowd heading to or from the cottage.

Next is barbecued steak. We are not allowed a barbecue in my complex so my son always makes sure I get this treat. And his steaks are so tender, part of the half he buys from a local farmer.  Along with the steak I like hamburgers and hotdogs, though they come a distant second to that steak.

What summer is complete without a Dairy Queen blizzard? I thought I was going to miss out on this one too until my granddaughter said she was coming for a visit and what did I want for lunch. Dairy Queen!

Last is the teen burger from A&W. The restaurant chain does an annual fundraiser, held in August, where a donation is made to the MS Society for every teen burger sold. Years ago this was really done up with dining spots marked off with balloons, and music blaring but Covid changed this as it has changed everything.  My daughter and her family surprised me with dinner, and even remembered I like their onion rings over French fries.

That last one hits close to home as I have MS, and it was a difficult winter for me, but still it was an occasion worth celebrating. If there’s family I don’t miss the parking lot, the loud music or the balloons. 

Gloomy Days

 For September the weather has been all rain with grey skies, and today such gloom with high humidity. My hair has no curl whatsoever but I imagine those with a tendency to frizz and curl are hating this weather. 

I hate it because my joints ache in damp weather. An old wives tale that I can attest is true.

I’ve been painting like mad, trying to get something done to submit to the annual juried show at our local art gallery. Trying out different techniques on 8x10 canvas boards. 

I’m using faces from ten year old Vogue magazines. There is a technique using matte medium where you can transfer an image. It’s kind of hit and miss for me. One thing I forget is that you add medium to the right side and place it on canvas, so image is reversed. Once you’ve transferred the image you let it dry, then dampen it and remove paper backing, leaving the ink on your canvas.

First attempt I tried I added medium to back so just adhered it right side up. I then painted around it. 

The next transfer I remembered to put the gel on right side. Not that it made much of a difference as photo was of a reflection. 

I love faces and now have a file full for future use. A good start I think.

Frazzle

 

This cute little guy’s name is Frazzle. Not a name I gave him but one he came with. I thought the name was very apt for my mother and bought it as a gift. 

It was a difficult time for our family. My mother had had two surgeries, first for endometrial cancer, and second for the lung where it had spread. She was undergoing an intensive radiation regimen of treatment, hence the being frazzled.

I was a single mom, living in Canada, and she was living in Florida.  I sent the dog to make her laugh, to let her know I was with her in my thoughts, if not in person.

Frazzle is mine, and has been for more than twenty years.  My grandkids have seen it, wanted it, but I can’t give it away, the connection too dear.

Frazzle has a friend, Tommy, another stuffed animal I sent my Mom. He’s a white cat, a bit smaller than the original and missing his brown spots but a close copy. Mom loved the real Tommy that lived in my house and often said how much she’d miss him when she moved south. So, I got her one of her own and mailed it as a house warming gift.

These guys are not often off the shelf but I needed Frazzle for a special occasion. My granddaughter was turning 21, and I was sending her a multitude of greetings by text throughout the day.

I positioned Frazzle and made a quick video message, singing Happy Birthday off camera and out of sight.

I did make it down to Florida twice after that time, the second when I brought Frazzle and Tommy home. 

My eyes have filled with tears as I write, remembering both good times and bad. I miss you Mom, today and every day. Love you always. ❤️