Art, Apples and Fairy Houses

Yesterday I played with japanese papers, paint and wax. My favorite is the ghoulish lady above; I like to think of her as a consumptive poet. Feverish color in her cheeks and poor handwriting. I love how the pictures talk to you as you work.

She needed a sister and so she got one.

Then I went to school and played in wax some more. I think I've figured out the difference between using a torch and a heat gun on the wax. I have more control with the flame from the torch - it's like the difference between painting with a small detail brush and a big sloppy one.

Here is my magnum opus. It's the first one John hasn't made the pickle face over. That's progress.

The farmer has an art project of his own going on outside. He's building a home for our firewood. It is 27' x 10' and already I am coveting it to store my stuff in. He ordered the roofing today. I love a man who knows how to build things. I've learned so much from him. On our first date he picked me up in a '55 black Ford pickup and HE brought the picnic lunch of fried chicken and strawberries. (we went fishing and then to Bagby Hot Springs.) He taught me where the rainbow trout hide (behind the riffles) and I pretended like I was an old fisherwoman from a 'way back instead of the thoroughly sissy city girl that I am. He saw right through me and loved my charade. Ahh, sorry. I digressed.

Here's the little conestoga wagon (actually a cloche) bearing the peppers across the prairie - I mean the garden. Our peppers are still ripening inside. They don't know it's clammy and cold outside their little home.

Autumn brings the blooms of the Maxamillion Sunflowers. Multiple heads among the blue salvia. The flowers would look beautiful in a pumpkin vase if I were the sort that fussed. Instead I'll just take a picture of them and call it good.

The walnut orchard ready for the yearly visitation of the crow-angels. I love crows. Don't you ever be sayin' bad things about crows. They know things. I especially love their piercing cry.

Here are the fairy houses I promised you. Growing under the Douglas Firs in an area of the yard that is most like a forest floor. Don't the roofs look like shingles? Tiny yurts for fairies.

And these too. Our yard is full of mushrooms. If I were a real witch I would know which ones to cook up with the eyes of newt and frogs. Blech. No worry. I would never cook a frog.

Boxes of apples. This is autumn to me. Dodging the spider webs, gathering in the apples and pumpkins, readying all for winter. The veil between the worlds grows thinner and thinner. For the next few days we in the northern hemisphere can expect visitations and spirits and spooky business too. Hope you're enjoying the fun.