It. Is. Raining. Crazy rain. I don't remember November being monsoon season, but it sure is this week. Part of me wishes it were snow. And the rest of me wishes I were on vacation on a warm, sunny beach.
This last week was long and exhausting, yet not long enough to get everything done. I finished a couple more ornaments - steps one and two are shown in a previous post and here is the finished product:
Snowballs! I have eight more smaller ones ready for their ribbon. I don't think they will get little signs - they are just too small.
By the way, I finally figured out how to decrease the size of my photos while also decreasing the dpi, so uploading these is a snap. Phew.
What else, what else, what else. The public preview of the Festival of Trees opened, and someone asked me to make her an ornament wreath. That's on tap for Friday or Saturday. First I have to clear all the sparkly junk off my "dining room" table so I can roll out pie dough. (Still doing my best to manifest for myself a living space wherein the art crapola has a dedicated area separate from the, oh, say, food prep area. Send positive energy my way, please. Envelopes of cash are good, too.)
Varnish is drying on two more paintings. Wee small ones. I shall call them Tiny Tannenbaume. That would be the plural of Tannebaum, but it needs those two little dots over the second "a". Or maybe just "O Tiny Tannenbaum." That has a lovely ring to it.
I say "tiny" because these canvases are 4" x 4" turned on the diagonal. Hey. That reminds me. I was thinking about these while I couldn't sleep last night, thinking about them being turned on the diagonal, which made me think about the word "diagonally," which made me think of Diagon Alley which made me wonder if that is where J. K. Rowling came up with the name. Most probably, the answer to that question is yes. I just looked it up.
Anyway, you should see the painting I have drying in the kitchen right now. Not sure it will make the cut. I think I like it, however, I shall re-evaluate tomorrow morning.
A nose only a mother could love. That's my girl.
And that's my girl with her piggy. It's almost her birthday.