A Thousand Words

A picture is worth a thousand words, or so they say.

This painting is one which I began working on quite a few years ago.   It hasn't been touched since then, I abandoned it.    Luckily, instead of throwing it out (like so many others) I propped it up on the top of my work cupboard, so that I would see it every day and perhaps one day feel like finishing it properly.

It has taken all this time, but finally, I feel like picking up my brushes and doing some more work on it.   Unfortunately all the animals which have been blocked in are no longer with us, but they remain in my heart, in my memories and in this painting.

During the last few months Max has been unwell, indeed he has become rather too well acquainted with the NHS recently.   He is on the mend, gradually regaining strength, thank goodness.

Without wishing to be morbid, things like that do make you think about life and legacies.

Some of my treasured items are old letters written by my parents, their diaries and, of course,  my old kitchen journals - recipe books handwritten by unknown cooks of old.   I love simply reading them and I adore making and baking some of the recipes they wrote down.   I often think about the women, what their lives were like, their characters.

Over the years I have collected together a small stash of paintings and stories about life around here, in Owl Wood and round and about.  They are for my grandchildren.   The drawings are not great and neither is the painting, but they tell some of the stories which are deep in the memory banks of my family and their children, my grandchildren.

Take the painting above, it isn't great but that was never my intention.   I wanted to tell stories with it for it contains elements of at least a dozen funny family stories within it, it will make them smile.

Max is great at spinning a yarn for the grandchildren.   It is not something I can do, I prefer to tell my stories in silly pictures, like this one.

It is time I went down to the dressing room and dug out my old paints.  Time to get the brushes out and tell some more stories.

After School

This post is for you, as promised, Hector.

Love, Granny

xxx

Checking the tyre pressures, essential pre-drive checks.

Retirement at Parsonage Cottage is far from dull and rarely peaceful.    Two of our grandchildren live nearby and on school nights they spend a couple of hours with us - having their tea, talking about their day, followed by a little television viewing, or playing some very lively games on the Wii.    

Fine evenings will often find us outside in our little patch of woodland playing Hide and Seek - very noisy Hide and Seek as our granddaughter finds it impossible to hide without giggling loudly.    I always lose because the animals (dog, cats, hens) give me away - that and my white hair!

Tonight, however, I had to laugh because Dobson, the dog, was having a wonderful game of 'Tag' with little Miss Pinkerton, the ginger cat.    At first I was going to intervene, then I realised that she was actively encouraging him to chase her.     It is the first time I have seen them play together like that, I hope it won't be the last.

Young Hector loves those evenings when he is allowed to get his car out and drive it around the wood.  It is an old one, built by a different grandfather, for his grandson.    I found it listed on ebay several years ago and got it for a bargain price.   Grandpa Max did quite a lot of restoration work on it, fitted a battery, then insisted that Hector should learn to drive it properly and take a driving test.

He passed with flying colours and is a real star at reverse parking.

He went that way!

The evenings are getting darker so having functioning headlamps is an added attraction.    By 6pm their parents are home (thank goodness) and we are exhausted.