Homage To Caspar

Caspar was a one off, like most cats. He had a very good life in a very good home where his humans were slavishly attentive and buckled under his every whim, especially the prawn whim which brought the words rod and backs to mind.

Losing a pet can be quite devastating , leaving a huge gap in the daily routine and a cold space on the bed. Mourning a pet is O.K. too. It’s an act of remembrance and if you include animals in your household then they leave memories that can be sighed and laughed over.

Nice knowing you Caspar.

The Hound of the Basset Lady.

There’s a theory that people grow to resemble their dogs. These pictures are of some friends’ dog

Apart from having very nice natures and never having bitten anybody, as far as I know,

they bear no resemblance to her.

But I am wondering a bit about Basset Lady. I’ve never been asked to draw someone’s dog before so I don’t know how indecisive and picky is the norm. Does everyone change their minds about the composition, medium and size every two minutes or is it just Basset Lady, who is rapidly becoming a royal pain in the ass?

As I’m not the most patient person in the world I’m also wondering when I’ll reach the point of asking her to do something anatomically impossible but visually very apposite. At which stage all this will be immaterial. And I’ll be very happy.

Wrens in the Woodpile.

Pre-living in France I used to see the occasional wren if I was lucky. I bought into the general conception of tiny, shy, delicate bird, hard to observe and to spot.

Here there is time and opportunity to see that wrens are tiny but make a noise like a machine gun when they are being feisty, which seems to be most of the time, and far from being shy threaten anybody and anything if they are disturbed. Sweet, yes, innocent and retiring…….umm.

Our woodpile is their favourite place at the moment so I can watch them from the comfort of the stump in the side doorway whilst being just far enough away that they ignore me. They really don’t like me taking any of their wood but as I need it with the weather being a bit schizophrenic at the moment I get a burst of gunfire, indignant wing flapping and you can tell they should really wash their beaks out with soap as that is unmistakably language well brought up birds wouldn’t know let alone use.

Mice Herding

For a while now I have been muttering dire threats at the cats for their penchant for bringing in mice to play with later.

Of course I don’t begrudge them their toys, it’s just I would prefer them to play with the ones I’ve provided at vast expense and with due thought. The trouble is they don’t believe the threats and carry on with their own simple pleasures.

It’s bad enough when you find a mouse lurking behind a storage box in the bedroom and two adults and a cat spend the best part of an hour in pursuit before cornering it and putting it outside. But much worse is when you have a guest for dinner, for the first time, and there’s three adults and two cats reeling round the dining room after a very athletic, possibly Olympic standard, mouse.

The cats actually seemed pleased we were getting in the spirit of things. Now I’ve got a sneaky feeling they’re bringing more mice as a treat for us as we seem to join in the hunting game with such enthusiasm.

Don’t get me wrong,the cats don’t totally underperform, they do kill mice but I’m a fair-weather cat owner who can deal with the corpse when I tread on it but can’t bear to watch the mice being tormented. They are dear little things when they aren’t living behind my kitchen cupboards or unimpressing guests.

The upside is I can put traps in the cupboard where I won’t accidentally take off a cat’s nose. The downside is that  I have to open it in the morning and I may have caught something. So far there’s been the no bait, trap unsprung, no mouse then trap sprung, bait still attached, no mouse and traps totally ignored. It’s quite a relief really.

But rabbits are a different kettle of mammals altogether.

Yet more owls

 

 

 

         

 

I think owls are incredible in the silence of their flight. There’s no warning at all when they fly over, you either are looking in the right place or you’re not. We found a dead owl in the front room just before we moved in here. It must have come down the chimney and been trapped. It was so light and delicate, with such amazing plumage that I’ve still got a clear kind of visual and physical memory of it.

I’ve turned the owl face into a card as it works really well as one. The owls in flight are my own indulgence. I’ve used a mixture of watercolour and pastels on all three. Mainly because that was what was to hand. I’d really like to try in oils or acrylics but that will have to wait.

Baby Owls

 

 

 

 

I haven’t actually seen baby owls since we took the S.A.L.G. to a bird of prey sanctuary a year or so ago but I was looking at the photos we took and wanted to draw them because we’ve got a beautiful Tawny owl that sits up in the roof at the side of the house to cough up owl pellets. It flaps off every time we come round the corner so is difficult to see properly.The cats sniff hopefully under its perch thinking it might have dropped something interesting.  They did strike lucky the day it had dropped a mouse there but that’s about the best so far. I think it’s probably the ghost that slips past in the evening and early morning to the neighbour’s barn but it definitely isn’t the Barn owl we see most nights. Anyway the baby owls are such lovely little things that I drew them. I used watercolours and pastels.

S.A.L.G. Infinitely Important, Infinitely Precious.

Hello S.A.L.G.  You once said to me that you felt insignificant and I let that go at the time but I actually think I should have explained to you that in the significance stakes you are the most important and significant person I know. You are going to meet me in  Florence and take me to the galleries, museums and we’ll see the frescoes together. And by that time I will have convinced you that you are, as in the title of this post, Infinitely precious, not just to me but to all the others you have chosen to share yourself with. So in five years a sea change?

Speak to you soon.

WHAT FOXES? WOOD 7

Patient Fox

 

 

We hear a dog fox being very territorial most evenings and sometimes the cats come scuttling in with their fur on end, ears back and eyes staring to the point of dropping out. We think they’ve probably encountered a fox. One of our cats is especially sensitive to any spoor in the garden. I’d say lawn but that’s stretching things a little.

I’ve only seen a fox once since I’ve been here which is interesting as our neighbours have indicated that you can’t step outside without falling over them. As far as I can see it’s not actually true that all the fields round here are knee deep in foxes, jostling to have room to sit down.  The one I saw had plenty of room. In fact I think it was waiting for me to go away or to run off itself if I got any closer. What I actually did was sit down and just look.

In the end I got stiff and chilly and went. It’s a bit lowering to realise you’ve lost a staring competition to a fox. I may have underperformed there.

It did prod me into making this panel which is just painted oak board. I think the fox corresponds pretty closely to memory.

MAYENNE MICE ARE RATHER NICE BUT I COULDN’T EAT A WHOLE ONE

I defy anyone to not feel that small mice are cuddlesome when they sit about in your bathroom, practicing to be voyeurs when they’ve grown up a bit.

Our cat, who knows he’s a cat and does things like hunt, keeps catching mice, bringing them inside in a slightly sucked condition and then releasing them as a toy to play with later. I think he prefers to hunt indoors now Autumn has arrived properly. In the last few days I’ve caught and released four and himself put a baby one out last night and another adult tonight. It’s eyes were so wide they were halfway down its face.

My preferred method is to corral the cats in a separate area and put my hand down until the mouse hops onto it. That way they are a bit less stressed and don’t bite.

 

This mouse which I’ve christened Harry, spent a harrowing morning being chased and sucked before it ended up in the bathroom where I could shut the cats out. It was very still and so I had a chance to draw while it calmed down a bit.

It was very cute with huge liquid eyes and almost translucent toes. Its little face was whiffley with a couple of whiskers making a break for freedom. It was actually a little burst of happiness for me though probably not for Harry. I was quite sorry to have to let it go. It was so light it felt as though I was closing my hand over nothing.

I took the precaution of letting it go next to our neighbours spiky hedge so it would have good cat cover. I hope we don’t get any more tonight or tomorrow as I’m a bit tired of sacking the cats.

TATIN MUSEUM

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We’ve been to the Tatin museum at Cosse Le Vivien a few times  now and it’s a place where you always see something you missed on a previous visit. I love going and may have to go again before Christmas.

It’s the garden and his house that fascinate me. He used all his building skills in such a personal way to make a garden that must have reflected what he saw in his head. It’s an amazing construction  The dragon is one of my favourite bits at the moment, I change favourites with what mood I’m in.

 

 

 

 

The actual house is a work of art too.

 

 

I’ve been reading about his life and it’s interesting how he was a skilled artisan and artist . I’m constantly surprised how he fitted so much into one lifetime.

It’s definitely a place to visit for yourself if you get the opportunity. These pictures are just a hint of what it’s like. It’s fun tracing the different influences in his work.

These are a couple of paintings and a sculpture I shouldn’t have taken photos of but it was too late by the time I was told.

It’s somewhere where you can spend a whole day as the grounds are extensive and interesting as well as the actual museum and any exhibitions running. The current exhibition is brilliant but no photos.

Check out www.musee-robert-tatin.fr/