On my way down to collect the milk this evening, a ferret slinked across the road. The birds have to be pretty vigilent around here in winter. Foxes and badgers also hunt at night.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Thabo is doing his nut. Who would have thought that we had lunch at this very table in the sunshine and shirtsleeves three days ago...
Friday, January 27, 2006
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
I am still slogging away on the jacket. No sketching for the moment, but lovely foggy walks with Thabo.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Far too cold to sketch outside today. I warm my hands around a steaming bowl of milky coffee and gaze out through the frosty window pane at the grey sky. Across the street, amongst the detritius in my neighbour's barn, I spy two pointy ears above a bale of hay. I cross the street with an offering of food, but the ears disappear.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
This afternoon, the sun finally managed to push its way through the clouds and shine for a few hours. I took Thabo and Peaches out for a walk, to check on the new lambs that were born in bitter weather between Christmas and New Year. I can't imagine why sheep lamb in the middle of winter but they do.
I took along my sketchpad, and arrived in time to see Antoine, the old refugee (from the Spanish Civil War) pitching hay into the sheep manger. It made a nice sketch.
Mine are already beginning to fade as my head recovers from a wild night of village feasting and feting beginning on the 31 and continuing well into the 1st. There were flagons of champagne. There were pots of foie gras. There was even a boar roasting on a spit above the fire. And there was far too much dancing for these creaky old bones.
In New York I would be in bed with my book and cocoa by 9:30. Will I be able to keep up with the pace of life in Rignac? I heard this part of rural France was quiet in winter- mortel même. I also heard that the winters were mild... I feel like a Dickensian creature as I make my way gingerly down the icy steps to the cellar to retrieve faggots of wood for me fire. Brrrrr...
Here is a picture of the Rignac I have known and painted for the last fifteen years- Rignac in summer. Will I be able to survive here the whole year round? Stay tuned.