My daffodils were dusted with snow this morning. They hadn’t opened their blooms yet, so I think they will recover.
I might not recover…it is April and I’m getting tired of 30 and 40 degree weather. I’m ready for spring to get here for real.
Ok, I think I’m done whining now. Thanks.
There have been some notable delicate slippered feet in our collective history. One that springs to mind is Cinderella’s.
This one is just my foot hanging out on the corner of the coffee table last night.
Sometimes these dramas just can’t be avoided. The flower on the far right of the spread was there first, so it has every right to be upset.
It was insensitive of me to upstage it with a tangle. I’ve tried to reassure the flower that there are many forms of beauty, and dramatic curlicues are not all that spectacular.
I gave it a friend with whom to commiserate. Looks like we’re not quite there yet.
Last night I went to dinner at a friend’s house. We were watching the tail end of 60 Minutes.
My friends have good taste in artwork, and they had a nice grouping of treasures over the fireplace.
If I were to repeat this exercise, the stone fireplace would be watercolor only—the outlines are far too busy. I had a pen and paper with me, so I used my pen and paper.
Tuesday I enjoyed dinner with a friend at Wine Knot in Kenosha.
She recommended the salmon, and it was such an excellent recommendation.
It was a slab of salmon served over shrimp fried rice that slid down my throat like comfort food. It was accompanied by a soy aioli dipping sauce—delicious!
I did not take time to sketch dinner then, but the next day from memory instead. Nothing quite like sketching your dinner from the night before while you eat your breakfast.
TYFTMB (Thank you for the many blessings)