New Neighbors? Probably Not for Now...

Bewick's Wren

The old chickadee, then titmouse, now vacant apartment had potential new tenants. Yes, the Bewick's wren was very busy on Friday, shoving sticks, twigs and grasses into the box, in hopes of enticing over his best girl. Or probably any girl, for that matter.

Only problem, which is a really big problem, is that we have to take down the box in order to get a new roof on the garage (yup, the birdhouse really is an apartment over the garage. Just like in Sabrina.). And the roofing job is supposed to be soon, very soon. Like in two weeks.

Once there is a nest, the little bird family cannot be moved. Not only because it would be wrong, but it is also in complete violation of the federal Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918. Thankfully, the Bewick's wren is not endangered, but still, it is not good to mess with the nest.

So sadly, bright and early Saturday morning, we snuck out and detached the birdhouse from the garage. The box got a new home on the quiet (Princess-free) side of the house, still on its post 10 feet in the air.

Mr. Wren has not resumed work in the new location, but I've heard him over there, scoping it out. Think of it - same great space with a fabulous new view. We all hope he likes it. And that she does, too.

Cat? What Cat? I Don't See Any Cat... #5

Loot from Annie's Annuals

Mom's come for a visit, which means two things:

We absolutely have to go out to Annie's Annuals at least one time to stock up on vegetative necessities. And,

Princess is too shy to hang out with strangers. (The entire human world is comprised of "strangers", with the exception of two people. And one of them she isn't so sure about, either. We take turns being that one.)

But she gets lonely and is always lurking nearby, ready to move in for some lovey-dovey, should that evil stranger appear out of range.

Princess' Shadow

IkeaHacker Kitchen Counter

So last winter when we were moving the painting studio back home, I came up with this idea for adding more counter space in the old studio's kitchen.

I thought it was a pretty good idea and so did IkeaHackers, which shares many interesting ways to repurpose Ikea products. 

Read on: Small Kitchen Counter and Storage 

Updates: #6

The weather has been beautiful, so the work on removing the old Bay Bridge span has continued. And as self-appointed volunteer monitors, we've gotten out the bikes to oversee the demolition.

The cormorants are still kicking around, although now there is a lot less bridge to perch on. But it seems a bit disingenuous to blame the birds for cost overruns, when Caltrans is clearly responsible for the greatest share of that mess. Even when you include all that guano.

We also wasted a chunk of time trying to catch a glimpse the troll, but we simply couldn't find him. I sent a message to "Contact Us" at Caltrans, asking for at least a small hint, but no word back yet.

The now senior amaryllis finally put out seven flower stalks. Just in time for the St. Patrick's Day holiday?

Teaspoon provided for scale

But the blooms kept me company while I was knitting teenie, tiny hats for preemie babies at a local hospital. The project was sponsored by project: peace, a local organization which coordinates quarterly(ish) "help-out" days at local schools and non-profits.

We are still eating zucchini fresh off the vine, last year's vine that is ("climate chaos" as my sister named it), and even a few peppers, also from last season. The plants are pretty ratty looking, but we are eating well.

Especially peas - both snow and snap peas. Lots of them. So, the question is, "Can you actually have too many peas?" Yes, sometimes, so thank goodness for my pea-munching friends.

The Loneliest Blueberry in Oakland

Photo Taken on March 1, 2015

A little tart, but a nice addition to my morning's bowl of granola.

Drawing on What's Right in Front of You

I just finished reading American Mirror by Deborah Solomon, a new biography of Norman Rockwell, and really enjoyed it. And after having lived with an illustrator for quite a number of years, I have a certain appreciation of the demands that "art on a deadline" can create.

Watercolor Group in Parque del Capricho, Madrid

I was also struck how Rockwell claimed that he was unable to draw unless he had a model, a few costumes or props, a photograph or some sort of reference material right in front of him. Most people (and I include myself in this group) didn't understand: how could he not just draw something plucked from his brain or coughed up from memory, especially after spending so many years doing art full time?

In Spain last fall, the illustrator in my family gave a plein air painting demo to a group of painting friends. Mistake - it poured rain and soaked us all. But the Spaniards persevered, and took us to lunch for the traditional dish Cocido Madrileno.  And by the time dessert came, most of us were more tipsy than damp.

The following day - rain, rain, rain and more rain. So to me, it seemed like a great idea to make little "thank you" paintings for the lovely painters who had treated us so well the day before. I mean, what else to do when all the museums have been visited and painting in the Parque del Retiro is not an option?

Except, except, the painter had nothing in front of him to paint! He, like Norman Rockwell, just couldn't settle down. He whined, he moaned, he huffed and puffed, he paced and squirmed, but I didn't relent. I mean, what else did he have to do on a rainy day except bug me, right? Better to get to work than "help" me knit or read.

iPad to the rescue. Along with a coffee cup borrowed from the kitchen, a stack of pens and pencils, a new tall and skinny painting pad, and an unyielding partner. And in the end, I certainly think it was worth the bother.

A Day Off

Sutter Buttes Painting

One of the very nice things about retirement is the flexible schedule. My Wednesday can now be a "Saturday".

So while everyone else was tearing up the freeway, we tootled off to the Gray Lodge Wildlife Area to check out the locals. I looked and listened to the birds; Michael painted.

Sutter Buttes Photo

White Pelicans

Wascally Wabbit

The Other Lobelia

When the rains end, the plants think it must be spring. And without a single, lonely drop of rain in January (a new record), spring may just be here. Yikes!

Many people have asked me about this little beautiful "lobelia" in the front yard which believes in spring and is beginning to flower. Yes, very blue like a lobelia, but actually not a lobelia at all. 

It's called Lithodora diffusa Grace Ward, an evergreen perennial which rambles along, entirely covered in blue for months and months. Quite drought tolerant, but is much happier with a drink of water every few weeks. 

I'm not the biggest fan of blue flowers, but if something is going to put out for me, year after year, with very little effort on my part, am I really going to care what color it is?

The Best Cheap Cat Toys #3: The Changing of the Bed

Yeah, yeah, I know it's not technically a "toy" but it sure qualifies as cheap. And for us, having a little furry helper means that bed-making is a whole lot more fun. Somehow there seem to be many fewer squabbles about how tight the corners are or whether the blanket is on straight.

Princess won't help with the daily bed-making chore, but only joins us when it's time to make up the bed with freshly washed sheets. I guess everyone likes the smell of clean laundry.

First step is to burrow into the pile of sheets, in the hopes of being discovered. Then comes the excitement of the sheet floating overhead, until it lands. Sometimes there is musical accompaniment in the form of purring.

Finally, the bed is put back together. A nap would be good, except that the bed-making team is simply too revved up to sleep.

New Year's Resolutions

My best guy calls them "resolvers".  It is rare that he is unkind, but for those people who show up at the gym right after New Year's Day (and generally last only a few weeks), he only scoffs.

My resolution? It's not about the gym. Actually, it's not even a New Year's thing. But I have been promising and promising to "do something" about lighting up the dining room for years.

We have loved the old fixture for at least twenty years. And beautiful though it was, it never put out much light (37.5 watts to be precise). Back then, we were younger and could see. So we lit candles and turned every dinner into a romantic evening.

Unfortunately, now that everyone's eyesight has gotten worse, it's mostly become just plain old dark. "Darker than the inside of God's hat," is how I have described the dining room.

But this holiday season, I spent some time in my studio (hard to do since there is so much junk to step over and around). But wedged in at my table, I listened to Ruth Ozeki's A Tale for the Time Being and got to work.

It took forever. Designing, planning, cutting papers, fitting the mica panels - amazing how much you can forget in so little time. And switching out the fixture was a pain in the backside, but easier than I expected. Then again, I expected to blow up the house. Or burn it down, whichever came first.

But the real question is: shall we continue to light candles every night?

160 watts