Tuesday, February 23, 2021

Daily life

The header shows the view through our front door window.

These three shots from the bedroom window show the changing sky this morning.

7.05 a.m.

7.32 a.m.

7.35 a.m.

Its been a quiet week at Hepworth Towers. Weeks in a February lockdown are quiet, aren't they? Nothing changes but the sky.

I've been taking exercise outside and painting inside. I am not convinced that my clematis abstract 'right' or finished, but just so I can't be accused of only showing my best paintings on here, here it is in its current state:

Here is my painting table, all cleared up and ready for action once I'm up. It never usually looks like this. I had a tidying spree yesterday. The painting on the easel is the result of my using up mixed paint I could't bear to waste, brushed onto a piece of card. Call it Seaside Sunset. 

This is what I want to paint next:

Yes, it will be monstrously hard, but fun to try!

Below are just a few of my sweet peas. It took me 5 days to build up the motivation to plant them. One of the reasons is that I hate having the windowsills cluttered up. The other is that everyday jobs are so easy to put off when there is little urgency.

Hey ho.

My friend in NZ emailed on Sunday:

Did you get your vaccination? Has it made any difference to your life?

I answered her:

Yes and no.

This is the soup I cooked yesterday:

It's my favourite winter soup, and I don't exactly double the quantity of water because I like it thick like porridge. I also use twice as much garlic. It's from Gail Duff's Vegetarian Cookbook.

You can see how I am struggling for news, how desperate things are: I actually have a recipe on here. The last recipe on here was Dave's bread last year, and that was only because a blog reader (Marmee?)  had requested it. Before that it was parkin in November 2008.

There is no news. 

There is so little news that it was thrilling to hear at the weekend that a relation-in-law likes her new blinds.

There is no news. 

It reminds me of that bit from Plotting for Grown-ups where Sally writes:

At teatime, Daniel rang for his weekly chat. He told me his news and asked me what was going on at Goose Lane and I racked my brains. I said, “Next door’s cat came in and was sick on the carpet twice. Two great gobs of it.” Is this the woman who once had a flurry of pieces in The Recorder – a national broadsheet, no less?

today’s tweet from @sallystoneymoor

Have you ever wished you were someone else, somewhere else, doing something different?

Perhaps this summer I will be able to hug my Sheffield kids and grandkids.

Perhaps this time next year I will be in Colorado with my beloved girls:



Anonymous said...

I suppose we're in that limbo land of 'no news is good news.' Not unhappy about that, I have to admit.

It does feel as though we'll all come creeping out of our shells - post-apocalypse - trying to remember how to be 'normal' again. I feel as though I have forgotten.

And don't knock Clematis Abstract - I'm loving it!

Thea xx

Sue Hepworth said...

very cheering to hear from you, Thea, for more than one reason.
it's encouraging for one thing that someone else might like the abstract.

Yes, perhaps in a year things will at least feel normal. I currently feel marooned in a not normal place.

Cda00uk said...

Thanks for the link to the Parkin recipe. I lost my mother's ecipe and I’ve been searching for a replacement. This looks like I remember hers looked. We always had it on Bonfire Night, so I’ll restart the tradition this year.

Sue Hepworth said...

Let us know whether you like the Parkin.
Why wait till Bonfire Night?