It's true, the blogging muscles have grown rather flabby.
What has been happening?
We had our sculpting friend Jantien to stay. Here she is sculpting, or her hands anyway:
She came initially because we have a covered space to work in, not very sheltered otherwise, but out of the rain. Then she had to stay in the blue room because her usual billet down the road with her mother-in-law was taken by someone else for a bit, then she kind of decided she might as well stay around as she rather liked it here and it would save upping sticks. We didn't mind a bit, she is the most sensible, sensitive and considerate lodger, helped by the fact she actually has something to be getting on with and so doesn't need entertaining, she frequently cooks us delicious vegetarian meals with her own ingredients and caters for herself in a very tidy and tactful way for much of the rest of the time and she was always eager to stretch her legs at one end of the day or the other and accompany Elfie (with whom she was rather taken, naturally) and her attendant humans on long country walks.
So I can't say she kept us busy with extra work at all, but having someone dynamic working away on site, and just being encouraged to chat and be a bit more outwardly energetic and sociable oneself, means the patterns change a bit, and one's mental space feels somewhat rearranged and fuller than usual. None of which is a bad thing, of course.
Now though, having succeeded in stealing away so early that none of us heard the going of her, she is en route back to the Netherlands for a week or two, whence she'll be travelling to England for this exhibition, and we're all being rather quiet and lazy on this fête de travail.
But I think she'll be back later this month, which should please Elfie, who's been looking around for her rather today. And perhaps it will be a little warmer by then. Elfie's blanket is finished, despite her attempts to commandeer it even before it was:
It's not really her colours, but never mind.
Thus unseasonable cold has made sculpting, gardening and dog walking sometimes something of a struggle, but I suppose the upside of that is a delayed spring; we are only just at the luminous, soft, multi-hued stage which would normally be giving way to a more uniform emerald by now, of which here are some photos from today's walk:
And an early peacock butterfly:
A cold, delayed spring an upside? Indeed, for truly in this life, anything that seems to hold back time is to be welcomed. Also spracht Pollyanna.
That will do for now, we're off to Kerbiriou for the first time this year, and for our first trip away with Elfie, in a week or two, but I'll try to be back here again before then, and to reacquaint myself with blogging friends in the meanwhile.
10 comments:
well, i'll be.... this must be the first time ever where your delayed spring and our unusually early spring mean that our seasons actually overlap - the photos you posted (aside from the obvious fact that you're in the country and i'm in the city) show the exact same amount and shade of foliage, in that most charming youthful green of early spring!
elfie's eyes are really rather beautiful, but i suspect you know that.
Good to see you here again, Lucy, the words and pictures glowing as usual. That butterfly is extraordinary, all those eyes!
"My blanket. My sculptor."
Oh, her, yes. Love her stuff.
That dog has fallen on her feet (paws) with you and Tom, Lucy.
Good to hear about doings in the the slow start of spring.
The peacock butterfly photo is stunning. And like it has eyes peering back.
Oh Lucy, your "Also spracht Pollyanna" has me giggling. Spring here has been cold and wet and for the first time in forever, I came down with the nastiest cold ever (lots of superlatives there and a dose of whinging) ... cough was terrible, but after two weeks, it is finally gone. It's high time I take the T-RAV for a road trip and check the state of the foliage here ...
Does having an in-house sculptor raise you to the level of patron? Be careful, remember Dr Johnson's letter to the Earl of Chesterfield:
Is not a patron my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it: till I am solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. I hope it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations where no benefit has been received, or to be unwilling that the public should consider me as owing that to a patron, which providence has enabled me to do for myself.
Mind you, given the majesty of this glorious put-down I'd amost be prepared to run the risk.
But I have another reason for raising this quote. Quite soon after I met Joe for the first time I mentioned a restaurant I knew Joe had used. Asked about its quality. Joe said, "I found the cooking...(Longish pause.)... indifferent." A small but important lesson in the use of language. At first glance the word looks like mild criticism. Properly framed, however, it turns out to be deadly. As Dr Johnson, employing it to slightly different effect, also understood.
You are not a cruel person (but then neither was Joe) and you may be disinclined to unleash deadly criticism. But it's nice to know one has that in one's back-pocket.
it's nice to have a creative considerate guest!
lovely photos from your delayed spring!
Thanks all for nice comments, which I did reply to at length but then the internet where we were staying died at that moment and I lost it all!
Will post again soon.
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