It’s hard to believe we are already in the middle of February, the last two months for me having gone by in a blur of family health and other matters. It’s been a hard, difficult time. One that has seen little work, either in writing or painting, produced by me, and even less housework done. But a corner has been turned and life is returning to normal. I hate winter at the best of times; spring cannot come soon enough, and it’s definitely on the horizon; that alone gives me hope and joy. Here in the south west of England, the weather is mild although the nights are still cold, little rain, and joy of joys, dawn is arriving earlier each day, meaning before long I can enjoy my early morning coffee outside in the garden. Plus the evenings are getting lighter each day. Hoorah!
Soon Dave and I can get back to our joint passion: gardening. We are itching to be outside as there is a lot to do: dead leaves, stems and plants to remove, spring pruning to be done, flowers and vegetables to be planted. I’m particularly looking forward to planting up my new flowerbed, the one where we filled in the koi pond last year. The front lawn at present is a mass of snowdrops and crocus, before long the daffodils and hyacinths will be in flower too, giving pleasure not just to us but to passers-by, especially the children coming home from school. Most amusing of all is one particular dog, a gorgeous red setter, one of a pair walking with their owner by the house every morning. The dog always stops at our drive to have a look at the garden before he will walk on, no matter how much the owner tries to pull him away.
In the back garden, everything is budding into leaf including all the clematis. I have a large collection of hellebores currently in bloom providing lots of colour around the beds; they are one of my many favourite flowers.
I am finally back into the swing of working on my current novel, the editing going well, if slowly, and as you may have seen already, produced a lovely painting of a squirrel, one I am pleased with. The trouble with painting and art is that everyone (me included) expects every piece to be a masterpiece. It is rarely like that. For each “good” painting, there are possibly 4 or 5 bad ones, ones thrown or hidden away, never to be shown to anyone. I thought this only happened to me, but recently reading an art magazine the other day, I learnt this happens to many artists. We all reach for perfection and too often cannot see beyond our mistakes, things that others do not notice.
It is the same with our writing. We angst and strive to make each word, sentence, paragraph, chapter, book, the best it can possibly be often, to the extent of losing the spontaneity and life we have given our work. It’s the knowing when to stop and let it loose on the world.
And on that note, I shall stop here to allow this post to take flight.
Still loving that squirrel. I see he’s on Redbubble, too. Might have to grab an item. 🙂 And I know what you mean about striving for perfection. Many years ago, when I scrap-booked a LOT, I realized that imperfection means it was made/done/written by hand. It’s like the mark of being human, and I’m fine with that. FYI – I’ve scrapped a scrapbook page and started over many times, and I can’t tell you how many scenes have hit the trash can over the years. Lol. You’re early flowers are lovely!
Despite being 4 weeks on, the garden still is not in full spring bloom but it’s getting there. I still haven’t been able to get there and work because of the cold and snow and rain we’ve had. Which has meant more time for writing and painting. Yes, definitely back in the swing now. Glad you liked Nutty. He was fun to do.
Love all those little flowers. I am with the Irish Setter in my admiration of them. Nice flowers in the back as well. Glad you are having mild days. That is always nicer than brutal winds and wet. I can’t wait to see all your spring and summer blooms. Way to go on working on your novel, too. And yes, it seems we sometimes don’t know when to stop tinkering with words or, in your case, paints, as well. 🙂 A vital thing to learn. Jillian
Our weather turned back to winter with snow, cold and rain which means little has progressed far in the garden, but the next few weeks should see much improvement. But at least I’ve managed to make time to progress the novel. Like Spring, I’m getting there.
I hate that it got cold there with snow in March. Bleh. It is cold here again, too. in the 30s F at night and 50s in the day. and yay, for progress on the novel!!!
I can relate to not knowing when to STOP. The first book I wrote took 8 years. A friend and fellow author told me enough.
I am with the others in loving the squirrel painting. And I love that you share your garden with us. Spring is getting closer and soon the desert here in Arizona will be in bloom.
I envy your climate, Lavada. Hate winter, and so far our Spring hasn’t been a lot better. The garden is still making its mind up, and I am anxious to be outside now. Mustn’t complain, though, as it has meant I’ve done a lot of work on the novel, and a the odd painting or two. The squirrel has given me inspiration.
Yes indeed, I too am itching to get out in the garden and take care of my plants – I don’t know when to STOP with that any more than I know when to stop with a painting and, funnily enough, you are the second blogger I have come across in 24hrs to speak about perfectionsim…You don’t know Janet Wright Reed, by any chance, do you?????
Hello Hilda. Thanks for dropping in. I do not know Janet Wright Reed, will have to seek her out. Hope you’ve managed to get into the garden. I haven’t as yet, but intend to in the next week or so, if the rain stops, that is! Take care.
Wishing you an early spring full of many artful blessings!
Thank you. Spring has taken a retreat but about to come back again. And given me inspiration to paint more and get back to writing.
Nutty is so handsome! And how fun that you have a neighbourhood dog that loves your garden as much as you do. That’s one very wise pooch.
And yes, I resonate with the whole not knowing when to finish syndrome. It’s exhausting.
Annoying, isn’t it? At least with a painting, once you sign it, it has to be the finish. But am still tweaking the novel. How do we make ourselves stop? Help!