Grandson Brad only allowed me to paint this portrait of him because I painted his first puppy, Rachel, whom he lost shortly after he received her for his birthday.

Witcher Coming Soon

I have way too much energy. At least mentally and perhaps even physically. I just finished RE-painting my grandson's portrait. I had completed it once but when he saw it he was unhappy with the outfit I had dressed him in (his Oshkosh overalls and brogan shoes). His mother had him photographed in them and he was adorable but he didn't want that look for his portrait. I had to cut the pants off and give him long socks for a more classical attire. It was a lot of work. Probably the same as if I'd done it with sewing rather than paints but I like to think not. I had to match it to one I had done of his older brother but no ready-stretched canvases were available so I got one larger and figured the framer could cut it down. Not so! Once I had invested all the time and work in the painting I could find no art store owner who would consider cutting it down. They all feared ruining it and getting sued (It's a US sporting pastime). So then I had to go to Home Depot, find the proper tools, buy them and do it myself. My hands should be wound-free in a week or so. I taped the raw edges of the cut canvas with cloth first-aid adhesive tape and used the rest for the blisters on my hands.
My third and final book of the American War for Independence is being edited after I've been through it with a fine tooth comb. I did that and the picture at the same time. Single tasking is drudgery but dual tasking makes both works seem like a break from drudgery. Not sure why that works but for me it does.
As I was winding down from those tasks the boredom of having nothing to do but my real job loomed threateningly ahead. We have a tiny piece of land that's been in the family since plantation days. It was used by my forefathers to float the products of labor down river to Savannah for marketing. Since the invention of the railroad it has been lying idle. Got a call from a distant cousin saying they were putting in an airfield and he feared they might be encroaching on my land. Several trips up river and I found they indeed had put in an airstrip. It wasn't encroaching but it was at my front door if I'd had a front door there. It's a lovely spot though as remote as possible in the nineteenth century let alone the twenty first. A perfectly beautiful spot. Just the place for a writer and artist to live. So I'm building a house there. Made progress on that today. Called for a building permit and was told I first needed an address for 911 responses. They explained to baffled me that in case of emergency (how did they know I was that old) they needed a place, ie an address to respond for emergency calls. They require it before issuing a building permit. So today after much back and forth this remote, isolated place now has a proper address for the first time since forever...Oglethorpe nor the Indians required one. So now I can get a soil perk test to make sure I can have a septic system. The next step is sinking a well which is equally needed for plumbing. My builder told me that's still done by diviners (witchers) in spite of civilization's progress (I want to be there for that and have a go at holding the divining rod myself). Those two items will take two months. If all goes well then I'll build a new house. That should keep me off the street for awhile.
I've drawn the plans for the new house. Anyone know how to legally print money? I have very expensive ideas but a very small purse.