In my little piece of Three Rivers, the deer don’t eat daffodils. Maybe they don’t taste as good as the native plants that are available around here in the spring. The gophers don’t bother them either. So, last December when the bulbs were on sale in Michigan (online), I bought a ton and planted them all around the yard. It was tricky business, because one is never quite certain where bulbs are already in the ground. If I was a real gardener, I’d have researched the height of each variety and somehow figured out which ones bloom first, and then paid attention to the individual packages and planted them in some sort of order.
I didn’t do any of that. I just roamed around the yard and stuffed them in the dirt willy-nilly.
Sometimes it is just more fun to be disorganized, spontaneous, and surprised.
Not quite as pretty as the morning when I took the photo to paint Sunrise over the Kaweah River.
T (my walking partner) and I see these bunnies almost every morning. We don’t understand how they survive.
Blue dick and common madia are still going strong.
It was a morning to spend in the yard. If I wasn’t such a lenient boss, I’d have to fire myself. I seem to be semi-retired these days.
It is so interesting that there is one white iris on each side of the path, and they stand above the others. I planted these bulbs in autumn of 2023 and have no memory of arranging them in any particular order.
This segment of the yard is all pinky-purply. It has one purple iris, lots of freeway daisies, several redbud trees, some lavender and some lilac. Guess you have to be here to see it all in bloom at once.
Just a thought about color for you: there are 3 plants named for various shades of purple.
There is a beautiful world outside of the studio, so we can’t be using up the glorious month of April simply showing you layers of paint as it dries on the canvas.
This is an official complaint about modern life, rife with technological obstacles.
In paying my quarterly sales tax, the computer said I needed to verify myself because it didn’t recognize my browser (WHY NOT, YOU IDIOTIC WEBSITE?) when I logged into the state tax collection page (Used to be called Board of Equalization, but now the name is longer and I don’t care enough to remember it). So I had to put in my password, wait for an email with another code, enter that into the site, and then proceed. (It might have required my password a second time). Then I went through the exercises to pay the sales tax, but before I could pay it, I had to enter my password again. After that, in order to finish the transaction, it asked for my password yet again. Why is this necessary?? How is this in any manner efficient? (HEY ELON, COME TO SACRAMENTO AND GET THIS MESS CLEANED UP!)
I have a credit card for my business which I rarely use. The company sent a letter saying that my information needs to be verified or updated or somehow enhanced, and I can oh so conveniently go to their website to do this. However, the website requires a user name and a password, something that I have never set up. I think it might be time to let that credit card go the way of all flesh.
Some lab work is required, perhaps a week before the next medical appointment. I needed to know how much in advance the blood needed to get its results back, so I called the clinic; “Clinic Name, Can you hold?” I hung up and found the number for the lab; “Lab, Can you hold?” I suppose I should be grateful there is a human answering instead of a robot. The human immediately recited, “Date of Birth?” I said, “Is that required to know how long it takes for the results?” (Hurricane-sized sigh)
I may need to fly somewhere soon. Will I need to get a “real ID” to board a plane? What is my current ID—fake?? When I last renewed my driver license, I passed on the option to get a “real ID” because when Trail Guy tried to do this a few years ago, the bureaucrat at the DMV told him he didn’t have the proper papers with him, despite bringing EXACTLY what was indicated on their website. (Thank goodness my passport is still valid). If a California driver license isn’t “real”, then why is it required in order to drive, see a doctor, write a check, or who knows what else? What would happen if I showed my library card instead?
So, tell me: do all these companies have their ducks in a row? Or are their ducks so multitudinous that it isn’t possible to line them up?
Or do I not have all my ducks in a row because I CAN’T STAND ALL THIS STUFF?
Please excuse me for shouting. I’m thankful to live in Three Rivers, in Tulare County, where eventually you can find a human, probably someone who knows someone you know.
Peeps aren’t ducks; they are marshmallows. But I thought we could use a light-hearted photo about now.
Tomorrow we can look at some photos, just fun, perhaps inspirational toward a new attitude or some new paintings.
1. Mike Rowe’s podcast, The Way I Heard It, is a great source of learning. In relistening to episode 271, an interview with Michael Shellenberger, I thought Shellenberger was stealing my thoughts. He said he drives a 2002 Honda Accord because he loves it, he is cheap, and dumping all that steel and other material to get some modestly better fuel efficiency just isn’t worth it. Amen, brother!! (My car beat his by 6 years, but since the interview was recorded in 2022, I don’t know if he is still driving his Accord.
2. Food for thought from Eric Rhoads (the one in charge of my week of plein air painting in Monterey): “Most of us complain about not having enough time while simultaneously binge-watching entire seasons of shows we don’t even particularly enjoy. The paradox of modern existence is that we have more free time than any humans in history, yet feel more time-starved than ever. Perhaps the answer lies not in having more time, but in living more fully in the time we have — in choosing experiences over possessions, creation over consumption, and presence over distraction.”
3. I thought about all the unique parts of March: the only month with a command—MARCH FO[U]RTH!, Pi Day —3.14, Ides (whatever that means) –March 15, St. Patrick’s Day—March 17, the first day of spring, in some years Easter, and in all years both of my sisters’ birthdays.
LEARNINGS
1. “All frills and no knickers” is the British way of saying “Big hat, no cattle”. How did I learn this? From Sandra Busby’s blog. She is a fantabulous fantastical painter. (Wish I could take lessons from her!)
2. “Cavil” —a verb: to quibble; to argue or find fault over trivial matters.
3. Grated avocado seed in 70% alcohol is a topical pain reliever. . . maybe. My DeQuervain tenosynovitis might be slightly better since using this, but it might have gotten better on its own anyway (Been plaguing me since October) Or, it could only be wishful thinking. A person can adjust to a certain level of steady pain. (I’d rather not, but as a resident of Realville, I can accept this truth.)
Avocado, oil painting, 6×6”, private collection
4. James Clear is a wise man. A friend gave me his book Atomic Habits, and I subscribe to his weekly newsletter. This was in last week’s:
“Take all the energy you spend on… worrying about the future, worrying about what others think, worrying about if you might fail… and channel that energy into one useful action within your control.
5. I read a lot, both fiction and non-fiction. Fiction is a great escape, but I am tired of adultery being normalized, bodies in trunks, and people who do blatantly stupid things (which of course is what makes the stories). I went searching, and for the first time in my life, I found a series of “Christian fiction” books that I really liked. Prolly won’t resonate with you all, but just in case you like that genre (or like me, have always disliked it), the author is Neta Jackson. (For the series to better make sense, start with The Yada Yada Prayer Group—see? you who didn’t abandon this paragraph at the word “adultery” or at the word “Christian” will probably jump ship at “prayer”.)
6. I learned to shorten palm trees on a pencil drawing using Photoshop Jr. The customer requested this—I just work here.
Yeppers, it is April First, but as unusual as this post is, it is entirely sincere.
Your Central California artist lives a very frugal life. Last Friday I became aware (yet again) that frugality is just automatic, built into my DNA perhaps. Have a look at the stuff that fills my days off and brings me great satisfaction.
Gardening
Trail Guy made the top rack from old mule shoes and the bottom one from the head of a garden rake. Most of these tools are second-hand.
The daffodil bulbs were bought in January, when they were greatly discounted; the bearded iris were a gift from a friend who was thinning hers; the dutch iris was probably a bulb on sale and seems to be the last one standing.
Sewing
Many years ago, I bought a tablecloth to make valances for my kitchen windows. When I washed them last week, they disintegrated. The rest of the tablecloth was in a closet, waiting to be turned into replacements. This time they aren’t very ruffled, because there wasn’t quite enough fabric. (Nobody cares.)
About 15 years ago I stocked up on the jeans that fit me best, which meant they all expired at the same time. I tried iron patches (wouldn’t stick), sewn on patches (ugly, but worked until the pants wore out above and below the patches), and made cut-offs from a few pair. Then I saw a picture on my favorite blog (The Frugal Girl) of several things you can do with old jeans. Since it rained last Saturday, and since my sewing machine* was set up, I made this ridiculous apron! (not finished in this photo).
It isn’t very frugal to use time and electricity to sew something that I don’t need, but I can’t stand waste. (or fraud or abuse, but that isn’t what we are discussing here.)
More Gardening
My broccoli crop was pathetic this year: look at the yield from 5 plants:
After I “harvested” the heads in the colander, I ignored the plants for a few more weeks. When it was time to yank them, I was able to get another small handful. These are good chopped up in scrambled eggs. Yea us, eating fresh vegetables. (I’d rather have ice cream, but not in my scrambled eggs.)
Then I planted the basil that rooted in the kitchen window sill all winter, taken from cuttings off last year’s basil. It’s kind of sorry-looking but as with all my gardening, it is another triumph of hope over experience. I started with 6-7 plants, but some croaked when transplanted.
Others broke when I was putting them in the planting bed, so of course I moved them back to little bottles of water on the window sill.
Those bottles initially contained Trader Joe’s balsamic vinegar. I pried the pouring cork/plugs from them, and they are perfect for this purpose—cute, small mouth, and no lid to keep track of. Good thing I didn’t learn that Trader Joe’s adds sugar to its balsamic vinegar until I had a nice collection of these.
Among my friends, this sort of thing is normal. My closest friends choose to go for walks together, not go out to lunch. We get a kick out of figuring out how to do things, telling one another how we saved money, and sharing extra stuff, whether it is garden plants, fabric, produce, baking, items bought on sale, or ideas.
How are you frugal? Is this normal for you too?
*A Singer Featherweight, made in 1959, a gift from my grandmother. The plastic handle did not go the distance, so Trail Guy replaced it with a chain.
I’m not one of those people. The only day I don’t like is any day I have to go down the hill. But I only dislike the day while I am fixin’ to leave, because in spring, the drive is beautiful. Going down with a list of stops doesn’t make me happy, so I try to remember that it is fun to drive Fernando, that there are all sorts of good options for listening or a good chance to just have quiet, and that it is a real privilege to have a car, options, money to pay for gas and the various items to be accumulated while down the hill. (I’ve been a recovering pessimist for decades). Of course I am happiest when I am heading back up the hill, especially in the early evening with late sunlight on the hills and mountains.
In case you are one of those folks who dislike Mondays, here are some wildflower photos for you, taken in my neighborhood last Wednesday. (See why I dislike leaving home?)
We can do the Learned List tomorrow, if I can remember anything new learned in March.
The lavender started blooming early this year. That isn’t a real lawn; it is mowed weeds that dry out when the rain quits and the heat begins.
The Middle Fork of the mighty Kaweah River, looking downstream and upstream. The white-water is a little less than bright white because of the rain. (Ain’t nobody here complainin’ ‘bout that rain!)
Man oh man, I love me some green!
I was pulling weeds in the yard and heard (teehee, almost wrote “herd”) some funny sounds. These deer were eating weeds mere feet from me, chewing kind of loudly.
The first blue dicks, also known as brodaeia (can’t spell it, gave up trying), with an intense bush lupine behind. This is not in my yard.
Hi Pippin. You are the cutest cat, even if you have an entitlement attitude.
