…that can’t be good, omen-wise.
I must say, this home-buying business is more intense than expected. I can’t seem to concentrate on much except maybe not breaking the ice I feel like I’m tip-toeing across. I think baby can feel my anxiety/excitement because he/she has been hosting a rodeo of sorts in my belly. It helps me concentrate, though, on things other than this giant investment on our door steps and, besides that, sometimes it tickles and laughter is a major source of relaxation. Especially since I can’t drink wine. I’ll admit to sniffing it on occasion…
So I have this plan for a series of paintings for my next project. The Yellowstone piece seems to be a favorite so I think I will try and duplicate it, making one at dusk and one at dawn. Maybe a third in colors you wouldn’t normally place in the sky. I’m excited to begin, though I’m sort of waiting for this tenseness to pass. Maybe it’ll make me better, who knows. I suppose I’ll have to “shit or get off the pot.” My grandma was so wise!
Even as a lover of winter I will admit I’m enjoying this tease of spring we’ve been experiencing lately. Still, winter smells so much better. As it gets warmer the air always seems to smell of wet, dirty, slobbery dogs. Come to think of it, maybe I just associate that smell with spring/summer because my brothers would always smell of that particular scent during that entire particular time. Stinky boys.
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