The dreaming pylons

Cranes. Sea serpents. eyebrows

A full moon, haloed, finally feeling a chill. If you don’t mind the moon, she will turn full while your back is turned. Wasn’t she only a quarter moon a few days ago? Why does it go from quarter moon to full moon? Where’s the half moon, that’s what I want to know. A week flashes past these days, but I remember being angry that the whole class got kept in an entire five minutes at break time because of Glen Pierce earned too many black blobs being naughty. My mother told me five minutes is not very long, but I knew she was an idiot because five minutes lasts hours when you can hear other children having fun. 42 years later I can still remember my vendetta against Glen, but now I am old and five minutes is no longer a long time, nor is a week, or a month. And didn’t November use to be colder then, when you went to the fireworks all bundled up with hats and scarves? Yes, I am old. They don’t make November like they used to.

Bit autumnal round here.

Lia leendertz says the endless cloud shrouded days are called anticyclonic gloom, a fact that delighted me, although thinking we were over the gloomy days ended some lovely sunny days with another spate of cormorant-weather. He sits in his tree, his snake neck coiled in on itself. He wasn’t there for the sunny days, which I cleverly spent sketching. I had work to do, but who knows when I will have the chance to see the sun reflected off rust and turmeric leaves again? Next year probably.

Weird colours because dusk

I drew this sketch of Boars hill at about four while it was getting dark. Old Boars Hill is famous for having a view of the dreaming spires of Oxford (from a poem by Matthew Arnold, who has largely been forgotten apart from the phrase ‘dreaming spires’) Matthew must’ve had quite good eyesight because Oxford is actually a long way away, but I could seen the cranes and pylons of Oxford fine, probably because it was getting dark and the cranes have lights on. When I drew this view for my (award winning) print Dragon under Oxford, I missed out all the cranes which annoyed my son a lot, so to make up for that I spent a half hour drawing them while my husband ran around Boars hill. This sketch is notable not because it’s good, but because I was so happy making it. I’m normally worried about making a mess, getting attacked by a dog, or worse, by a weird person who thinks I want a chat, but this time I was genuinely in the zone making some scribbles.

Having achieved such Nirvana, the next day I walked around the corner to draw a sketch or two of the crane which is part of the building work on the college grounds. My husband’s instagram feed is full of crane pictures,  because it’s big and yellow and near his classroom so I considered it an act of love to go out and draw it a couple of times. I like it from this angle where it is nestled amongst autumn trees.

I also spotted one of the JCBs being used for logging works in the woods, or the top of it anyway. It had gone by the time I took the photo. I drew that too because it fitted in nicely with my theme yellow construction things hiding in delightful autumn foliage. Such beauty in nature. The logging is really annoying because they are mostly not logging, despite having taped off and made most the woods out of bounds. I broke in the other day (if stepping over a tape can be breaking in) and I can see that they are just removing ash trees dead from dieback, but it’s still annoying. Most of Oxfordshire is beset by some kind of eternal works that are eternal because there is never anyone actually doing any work. If they would do the thing, the thing would be done and they wouldn’t be in my way pissing me off, that’s all.

Workings

New for Christmas a reprint of my (prizewinning) sea serpent! I’ve printed a limited of these, and it was a pain in the arse so I probably won’t do it again. The last lot sold out and they make great Christmas presents (if your recipient doesn’t like it you’ve still made someone happy, because I will be happy)

Shrimp update

I’ve managed keep all three shrimp alive over a week; at least one has moulted which is a good sign. Fingers crossed for another week of thriving so I can get MORE SHRIMP soon - I would like more so I can see shrimp more often because the shrimp mostly hide. When they are not hiding they like to scare me by lying upside down or not moving or eating lying sideways. I am contemplating replacing my broken camera lens so I can take better pictures of shrimp. I probably need help.

The snails are also alive, and stay very close to the heater, which makes me think I was absolutely right they were getting cold and needed a heater. When I go my massive new snail I thought at least I wouldn’t be able to lose him in the tank. I was wrong. Apparently there are many places you can hide a massive snail (and three shrimp) in my very small tank, but I’m not sure where they are. Either that or he’s mastered time travel or something. I might change his name to Dr Snurrlison.

Findings

I am going to see Lucy Worsley talk about Jane Austen this afternoon. That’s my culture for the week, though it hasn’t actually happened yet, I haven’t really had time for much else, what with all the tramping round fields in search of yellow construction things, cormorant stalking and staring into my shrimp tank endlessly. I’ve been quite busy, you see, so it’ll be a welcome break.

‘Who is Lucy worsley?’ asks my son

‘She does the history programmes’ I say

‘Yes but which ones?’ I screw my face up. I have the idea I once watched a programme where she explained all the dangerous things in historical houses. Thinking about it it might’ve been a fever dream. ‘Dangerous wallpaper with Lucy Worsley’ I say doubtfully. ‘She definitely did one about Tudor Christmases’ I say decisively.

‘Oh her with the eyebrows’, he says.