Candy Candy Nico Neko

 

 (Bear with me: I'm learning a "new blogger interface" and there are some glitchy things to sort out!

Above, is our new horse Nico. Or is that "Neko"? And as mentioned, her name was "Candy" so now I'm transitioning her my chanting "Candy Candy Nico Neko" to her as I ride... no wonder she looks confused! Everyone at the barn has been so complimentary about how pretty she is (and she is!)  So far, so good. She's had her feet and teeth attended to and I'm contemplating a saddle fitting as she's much broader around then Maggie or Crispin, my two previous mounts. 

The farm where she is temporarily residing is entertaining. They have (in no particular order), chickens, ducks, ferrets, sheep, goats, donkeys, and most entertaining of all, alpacas.

Several of these individuals reside in a stall near Nico/Neko and utter otherwordly space alien sound effects:  a cross between purring, humming and Chinese. They're friendly in an odd way, more like they're observing us to report back to that other planet.

The farm is a bizarre petting zoo. Sue, who is alpha-mare and Dr. Dolittle rolled into one crazy lady multi-tasker, keeps adopting animals from nasty circumstances. That's a good thing! Most of them are very sweet and have made the horses utterly bomb-proof around a menagerie But some of these animals are dodgy four-foot juvenile delinquents- the goats in particular. I have been warned that the goats will consume EVERYTHING including tack (saddles/bridles/straps and general horse-related gear for you non-horse individuals) and horse's tails. (There are several unfortunate equines sporting brutally chewed off stubby tails!) I warned Sue that if my horse's tail goes missing, there'll be goat stew. Never a dull moment!

Thus far the new horse- call her what you will!- is in general a good egg. I hacked her around the farm yesterday, after I had ridden in the outdoor arena and she was great. Didn't spook once, even though a trip around the farm passes not only the aforementioned mammal menagerie, but huge dumpsters, abandoned trucks, functional farm equipment, gargantuan piles of manure and spent bedding, random discarded tires, lawn furniture and general havoc. I'm having fun!

 

 

Day Something Something Something: Bad Sci Fi

At least I'm hard at work in my studio. Above, "Medal of Freedom" (Feminazi)  honoring a brutal portmanteau from none other than recent Medal of Freedom recipient Rush Limbaugh. I proudly clutch onto that title and make it my own. It's in process but it looks good so far. And that's not the only piece I have fermenting in my studio...
Other than us working in our studios, Bob and I seem to be holding up just fine. We've been working out doors, still cleaning up from that crazy tornado from two years ago. We're hauling off piles of brush and opening up new areas- it'll look great once we're done. But it's been chilly so I haven't really begun to garden; I need to transplant some things and move a few other things and clear yet more leaves (a refined detail clean-up. I already did the rough clean!) We have plenty of time so it'll all get done. Today is sunny so far but very windy so forgot those leaves!
But this is all seeming a tad like one of those cheesy sci-fi movies; surreal images of people shopping in masks and gloves and tractor trailers being turned into morgues. The quiet continues on our road and in the sky over our house, except for our returning ducks quacking up a storm. Our neighbors are not to be seen; not sure why they're not all outside enjoying the sunny weather. I start picturing them all turning into zombies or vampires inside their houses. Probably not a good mental image to have!

So here's the other piece I have going on in my studio. That's actually an earlier state as I've begun sewing little beaded COVIDs onto it:

 (Note the bacterial/petri dish delight back round material! I've been saving that for ages, waiting for just the right piece to use it in. The  back round also alludes nicely to modern painting with the sort of smeary, painterly fields running together- maybe a hint of Jasper Johns? See below*).
Here's a funny coincidence: A friend Facebook messaged me a funny song about "Staying the Fuck Home" (thanks Bill!!) and I kiddingly said, "Sounds like a new piece for me!". He responded with a thumbs up and then I got to thinking, why (the fuck) not? I also went to work on this as I was solicited to be in an on-line art show of work created while quarantined and what could be more appropriate? (I'm hoping to finish this piece this morning if I could only get off the computer and get some real work done!!) And then we turn on the Jimmy Kimmel show and he's talking to Samuel L. Jackson who reads from the new book, "Stay the Fuck Home"! Talk about synchronicity!!!
So take that advice- Stay the Fuck Home!!!
 
*See? Same sort of painterly impulse. Thank you Mr. Johns!

A Few Days of Birds Behaving Oddly

To address the title of this blog post- in which I am cramming all sorts of tidbits- let's first look at the duck above. I was hanging out laundry and saw this brown lump on the other side of the fence. First I thought it was a small pile of leaves, as the wind was  blowing ferociously. But I kept thinking there was something sticking out to one side. As I approached slowly and cautiously so as not to scare it, it became clear it was a duck, it's beak being the thing sticking out. We do have ducks that land on and hang around our tiny pond, but this duck was just sitting there, looking around. I actually had enough time to go into the house, score the camera and snap this picture. It stayed for a while and then apparently flew off. But I thought it was strange that it hung out on the grass.
And the other day, Bob and I were standing outside by the side gate when Bob said, "Look; it's a Goldfinch sitting on the grass." On closer inspection, it wasn't a Goldfinch, but a parakeet! I tried to get near it, talking to it in a cheerful, friendly to birds kind of way (I thought!) but it flew off. I was reminded of how when I was young, my family adopted a small green parakeet who just appeared out of no where and landed on my mother's ("Mommy's") shoulder. Our parents (Mommy and Daddy) ran an ad and sought his owner, but none claimed the bird, so he found a new home with us. Charlie the parakeet was a character and sang and talked and whistled; I thought maybe history was repeating itself, but the bird flew away. I hope he found his way home as it was cold and they can't live outside here in New England.
The last "bird" under discussion here is Lil' Robin the Good. Maybe it's the Spring and the high wind and things beginning to grow or the changing light and lengthening days, but I've thought that Robin has been a little more needy or clingy than usual. She is a funny sensitive soul (and prone to nuttiness like when she's chasing shadows and leaves...) but she has seemed preoccupied. And I think she's put on a little weigh. AND THEN IT STRUCK ME: what if she'd taken matters into her own hands (paws) and gotten knocked up??!!? It seems unlikely: we've kept an eagle eye on her when she went out into the yard during her last heat.(*1) There are no intact males around that I know of (except Chops (dumber than a door nail!) next door. Dear goddess! Please, if Robin got impregnated, don't
let it be Chops!!!) Anyway, as there are no at home dog pregnancy tests, and it's a month ago that
her heat cycle ended, I guess I'll just pinch myself and wait another month to see if "anything
happens". (*2)

1.) Although I did kiddingly say to Bob one day as I went the door to work, "Keep a close eye on Robin and don't let anyone near her... unless he's a really fluffy attractive English Setter, Irish Setter, Golden Retriever or maybe even a Bernese Mountain Dog".

2.) It's harder than you think to find the right partner for your dog. Purebred dog owners are the worst and are terrified that their breeds purity will be sullied by mixing with mongrels. They would never willingly permit interbreeding! (Despite the unhealthiness of inbreeding and line breeding and all the nasty hereditary messes that purebred dogs inherit.) It would be the final irony if Robin found herself a "boyfriend" after all the unsuccessful work I've been doing to hook her up.