Have you ever seen inspiration growing?

Take a look!

Sir Wilfrid Laurier Climbing Roses blooming by our back door were  photographed  today.  They provided the inspiration for the watercolour you will find under FLORALS.  (The original is still available.)

As mentioned in the write-up about this painting, Sir Wilfrid Laurier, known as “the great conciliator,” became Prime Minister of Canada in 1896, and served for 15 years.

One of the two universities in the twin cities of Kitchener-Waterloo where I live is named after him:  Wilfrid Laurier University, a.k.a. WLU.  

Fabtek operator, Jay Peters, hails from Arthur.  (Wish he had pushed that twig away from his face.)

His twelve years of experience expertly guides the control levers.   He’s a pro!

The picker-upper equipment is agile . . . and certainly doesn’t have rheumatism!

The ‘closed fist’ of the jaws pushes the logs down to avoid wasting space.

Seven logs in one ‘mouthful!’  Yes, Sir!

A word from “Jaws”—-  We‘ve got a full load now, but I might as well hang onto this ‘mouthful’ while we head through the woods to unload our cargo.  Every log counts, you know.

I love my work!  It’s pretty neat knowing that these logs will be sawn up and become useful in the construction industry!  Who knows?  Maybe they will provide wainscotting for your future rec room, knots and all!  That’s what this blogger has in her rec room.

Friends took us on a tour this week of the St. Jacobs countryside where they were both raised, and we enjoyed driving down the lane to both of their former homesteads.  One lane was a half-mile long!  By the beautiful white-brick farmhouse, with a bay window on the ground floor that continued up to the second storey, the car was turned off so we could listen to the sheltered stillness.

Our quest was to see bluebirds.  Arriving at the bluebird house our friends had been assured had babies, my husband dutifully trundled out the  tripod for my camera.

However, a wary mother bluebird was not impressed with our intrusion, and absolutely refused to go to her nursery.  She hung onto the green worm in her beak, flew hither and yon, but always returned to the hydro wire, not the nesting box.

Next time, we’ll mind our manners and stay in the car, and let mother bluebird care for her young in peace.

Down another farm lane, we came upon a frustrated mother oriole.  The farmer had put up a woven ‘string fence’ alongside his strawberry patch.  Mother oriole was tugging at the string, and going into all sorts of contortions, which gave us a glimpse of her vivid, golden underside.

I just know there’s enough string here to build my entire nesting bag.  I’m plumb tuckered out!  No matter how hard I tug, the silly old string won’t let go.  Must be that wretched nylon stuff.  

Give me that old fashioned twine any day, and I’ll show you how to weave a nest in no time flat! 

After planting impatients around the upper bird bath, we rested on the swing.  Our conversation went something like this:

“The chickadees’ eggs must have hatched,” said Lloyd.  “They’re both flying in and out with something in their beaks.”

“I wonder why no one wants the chalet bird house in the old walnut tree?” I said.

And then . . . zoom-m-m!!  Mother Sparrow landed on the chalet’s perch . . . and I grabbed the camera.

Father Sparrow led the way.  They  popped inside, one after the other.

“I hope they can get out again,” worried my husband.

Lloyd hauled out the step ladder and gathered some tools.  After rasping the hole larger, he didn’t have the wire attached to rehang it before Mother Sparrow returned . . . and claimed her house!

Yes, Sir, the Ten Little Puffins have flown all the way from Newfoundland to greet you!

Fascinating would be an understatement when trying to describe the ways of these birds of the sea!

Learn more about the puffins of Newfoundland as you listen in to Mother Puffin’s advice to her wee puffling.  I don’t think she’ll mind.

The painting of “Ten Little Puffins” is drying in the studio, and will soon be photographed.  While they are fairly modest birds, I overheard one puffin admitting that he can hardly wait to hear what you think when you see his handsome springtime beak!

In the meantime, the puffin under the rock (watch out for this little guy) let it slip that the artist who brushed them into life is preparing to paint her absolutely most favourite of all spring wildflowers:

Dutchman’s Breeches

Lloyd made this mother mould to support the silicon rubber mould.  The larger hole indicates the position of the horse’s ear.  Pouring will be done through the smaller hole.

Mother Mould

Lloyd is mixing the two components for the silicon rubber mould.

Pouring moulding silicon rubber into cavity between master sculpture and mother mould.

Completed silicon rubber mould.  Lloyd will brush in casting material impregnated with either bronze or marble dust.  

Lloyd is building a mould in order to produce copies of his wall-mounted high relief horse’s head.  He will be offering it in cold cast bronze.

I was ready to work on the waves dashing against the rocky shore in the foreground . . . when two more puffins flew in!

One returned to her burrow under a rocky shelf on the right, and sat peeking out from its dark entrance.

The other joined his comrades on the centre rocks, standing with his back toward me.  I’ll try to capture the sheen of his dark plumage in spite of his rudeness.

This makes ten little puffins in all, and Pete, my studio companion, apologizes that the late arrivals have caused yet another delay in showing his kinsfolk to you.  Why puffins don’t have the decency to arrive on time is more than I’ll ever know!

My Pal from Newfoundland

On New Year’s Eve, we had friends over for dinner and an evening of croquinole.  It turned out that the wife was the mystery donor of the puffin that flew to my door a few months ago!  Of course, I took them to the studio so they could see Pete the Puffin, and also have a peek at the puffin painting.

Pete  sits on the edge of the sewing machine not far from my easel.  His delightful arrival and his presence in the studio has actually been an encouragement while I have been painting his “kinsfolk!”  I was delighted to learn that he was purchased a few years ago while they were on a visit to Newfoundland, which makes him authentic.

Listen!  Pete is trying to say something:

 Keep an eye on the blog.

You will soon be getting a peek at my relatives,

all eight of them!

Working on our front porch on one of the loveliest pre-winter days, a friend of Lloyd’s, a professional welder, joined a steel rod onto a pipe.  It will form part of a hoist Lloyd is constructing to help lift the horse sculpture in its heavy mould up and out of the cement mixer.

I never tire of looking at WIND IN MY MANE:

http://mcdonaldart.com/sculptures/windInMyMane.htm

I have a pretty good idea who couriered the puffin to our door, and left its delightful greetings . . . but they won’t fess up . . . in spite of two email inquiries . . . so the mystery is still intact.

In the meantime, Pete, the patient Puffin, sits on the corner of the sewing machine in the studio, keeping me company.  He wishes I’d quit dabbing and scraping on the rocks and concentrate on his cousins instead.

As special as Christmas is, it is good to get back to ordinary activities – back into the studio – working on “Splashing Through the Crags!”

Good riddance this week to the remaining white space on the canvas!

Onward to the right-hand mountain, planting spruce, aspen and tamaracks in its jags and crags!

Splashing Through the Crags was set aside while I jumped through hoops . . . preparing for my husband’s surprise 75th birthday celebration on December 4th.

Sending out invitations, baking, buying supplies, wrapping favours, creating name tags, designing a quiz, preparing two boards of pictures depicting Lloyd’s 75 years, hunting down recipes for hors d’oeuvres (and making them) was all done on the sly! Special friends helped carry it off, and Lloyd was TOTALLY surprised!

The party room in our son’s condo in downtown Kitchener accommodated about 50 all told.

Some of the guests

 Daughter Joanna, Eleanor, Granddaughter Rebekah,       Son John, Lloyd

Now that I am no longer working undercoverfrom dawn to dark, it’s great to get back into the studio, brushing some of Newfoundland’s rugged grandeur onto canvas!

Hopefully, the right-hand rock face will get some attention this week.