Morsels

Dennis and I are up here all week until late Wednesday when we hightail it back to Ohio, pies in hand so that I can make Thanksgiving dinner for us. It is quiet up here as always, except for the scattered shooting around us (but hopefully not too close!) It’s opening week for deer hunting and the country is rife with brightly colored men shooting at the deer. I love the taste of venison and I actually don’t have any huge issue with the idea of hunting.  But I have to say that I am on the side of the deer. There are two little yearlings who tend to wander through our front meadow at dusk.  Sometimes they come right to the house and look at the windows. Who is watching whom I wonder. I haven’t seen them this visit but I am pretty sure that’s because all the deer are hiding where they can.

Yesterday morning Dennis heard some shots a little too close to the house. So he decked himself out in that lovely orange (which our neighbor informed me is the new black) and headed down the pond in the direction of the shots. He didn’t find anyone hunting on our property but he flushed a large 10 point buck.  The buck ran in the direction of our neighbor’s property. It would be nice if you could hand them (the deer) little maps with safe zones so they could all gather and wait until the bad guys were gone. But humans being what they are it would probably turn into a slaughter-fest.

Wow. Sorry.  That just came out. I will leave it as a testament to early morning ramblings and left over dreams.

Meantime in between thinking misanthropic thoughts in my log home, I am experimenting with collaging and transfers and raiding Michael’s Craft Store and painting pears. Not directly painting on them. I am painting still lifes. I think I enjoy pears because they are like little, simple bodies. And you can do studies of light and color without worrying too much about much of anything else. (like bucks on the run)