Not just hindsight, Crevettes Boudiennes

Yesterday, you'll be glad to hear, was my final checkup at the eye doctor, so you won't be hearing more of the whining about cataract surgery.

And I heard that 20/20 doesn't apply only to hindsight. He tested my eye pressure, poifect,  then my vision. 20/20 distance, and 25/20 reading. We were both happy.  He agrees I don't need any kind of glasses, asked if I'd tried driving, how was it, and declared I'd got the best of all possible worlds and to go forth and enjoy it. So I will.

Handsome Son visited after we'd got home, eating pita and cheese, and generally as happy as I am about not having to go to that doctor's office again.

Since our days are blessedly cooling, I picked some green cherry tomatoes to ripen on the windowsill, though it was nicely hot while I was doing it.

Sun-ripened is better, but the prowling squirrels and rabbits have been joined by chipmunks, so I'm trying to keep ahead.

And I celebrated with a terrific meal, shrimp with fresh picked tomato from Gary, and scallions, with basmati rice .  Seasoned with Old Bay, salt, black pepper. No idea if this has a name, so henceforth it will known as Crevettes Boudiennes. 

After the shrimp and tomatoes were cooked through and spooned over the rice I reduced the sauce a bit and added it.

I did have a moment of wishing I had someone to eat this with, but that passed in the loud answering thought "I'm worth it!"

It was very good, and there's at least two more meals here 

Today's art is from a painter who worked into her late nineties, an encouraging thought. You'll see echoes of Delaunay in here

So here we are, amazingly, at Labor Day weekend, traditionally celebrated by not working. 

Handsome Son however is working the whole weekend, which he doesn't mind because time and a half kicks in on Sunday and Monday. To people in his income bracket, it's significant.  And since Labor Day celebrates trade unions, it seems appropriate that he gets the time and a half benefit of being a member of one.

Happy day everyone. Up with Jorts! Avoid the union busting Starbucks and Amazon, support whatever local business is still there, buy from artisans and artists, enjoy the weekend. Signed middie of three generations of union workers.

Green tomatoes, pet care and more perceptions

Yesterday I did the promised interesting thing with the green tomatoes. Roasted them in a long slow oven, 325° for two hours. Not much seasoning, salt, basil, olive oil.

Aren't they beautiful? I pick the cutting board with color in mind and here the greens worked.

Tomato paste, then bits of dried seaweed, roasted tomatoes, blue cheese crumbles, grana padano, hot pepper flakes

 Two lunches, another plate like this tomorrow

And here's Butternut Boy, with a slice of canteloupe rind from the latest one 

He already took care of the seeds.

And here's today's art, some of Edith Holden's botanical watercolors in her diary, facsimile reproduction.

Very much in the English botanical watercolor tradition seen in Jill Barklem and Beatrix Potter, except that Holden is interested in exact observation rather than stories built on it.

UK blogistas, and others, will instantly recognize her subjects.

Today the weather's taking care of the dry plants. We've had a long dryish period, not exactly drought turning the grass to shredded wheat, but we can use this today

Every day that we get rain I don't have to water outside, yay.  

Yesterday was an interesting discussion in here, thank you, about perceptions and actions in art and pet care .

As you know, I've never expected to have a reliable income from my art. A life rather than a living, is the idea. In the fine arts, it's pretty much the norm.

So the balance of making a living and making a life is the thing. The pet care business was a good one, though strenuous. Nobody said it would be easy.

But it gave me chunks of time in daylight where I could be in the studio, endless physical activity which triggered a lot of art ideas, and didn't compete, as teaching art does, for my art attention. And it opened up so many new friendships, with animals and people .

I never told new clients I made art, because of the common perception among non -artists that you can't rely on an artist to show up, to be meticulous, to really be reliable.  My clients were largely business people, lawyers and researchers, liked and collected art, but didn't know any serious artists. They thought.

It was only after they'd got to know me and come to depend on my showing up and taking lovely care of their animals that they'd wonder why I did what looked to them like hard and humble work. 

More than one blurted out "But you're so reliable and knowledgeable! I'd never have hired you if I'd known you were an artist! So glad I didn't know!". 

Which led to their finding that a real artist is totally on it, doesn't cut corners, nor fail to show, and is just who you want around your animals in your absence.  And seeing animals, officially standoffish, literally climbing on me,  didn't hoit, as they say.

It's often what divides the wannabes from the serious in the arts. Once they were in the picture, pet care clients , realizing they'd been confusing poseur art "students" with real ones, were very interested. 

One saw my work and arranged for her management to offer me my first corporate solo show, big deal. This led to some nice corporate sales. Unexpected side effect.

Others were more interested in becoming self employed, seeing how happy I was. A discussion of actual conditions and income tended to diminish their interest, like hearing the hours, how nothing could be delegated in a sole proprietorship, no sick days, brief time off needing a minimum of three months' notice to clients so they could arrange alternate coverage. That bit!

There were some poignant times, like when the teenage son of a client, a boy with multiple pets, and with a lifelong heart problem, died during a pickup basketball game in the park near his home.  

His mother continued to keep his pets, ranging from a giant spider to a hamster, a ferret, Suzy, fish and lizards, in addition to the family cats and dogs.  

She also planted a little garden at the edge of the park near where he'd died, as a memorial place. No water supply, so she walked over,  carrying buckets. Would I mind adding that run to my visits, and she'd pay me? 

I agreed to add in the water carrying but refused payment. Her culture being different from mine, she didn't know about the Works of Mercy. I explained that this care was one of them, and I couldn't accept money, but I'd be honored to do it for R. 

It took her a bit to feel okay about it, but she did, and as long as I had them as clients I checked in on the garden. 

Then there were clients who handed me their key all labeled with name and address! Which I promptly tore off and replaced with a code, noting it in my client notes. Innocent people not realizing they might as well say burglars welcome! 

I also learned to check the key before leaving, since clients rarely used front door keys if they came in through the garage. 

One gentleman was a bit incensed about this, and insisted we lock him outside and he'd prove it was the right key.  Wife and I indoors listened to scrabbling at the lock, then muttering and finally a roar of annoyance. Wrong key. 

Frantic searching in kitchen drawers until the right one was located and handed over. Whereupon Mr Client said "Good thing I thought of checking!" Wife and I exchanged a knowing look.

And the nice man, a friend, who confidently handed over his spare key from his wallet, usual test. Bafflement. Then remembered he'd exchanged keys with his boyfriend. Ah. We did end up with a working key, and met the friend in the process. Whose first name was the same. A bit confusing. 

I had set up side by side businesses with Handsome Partner, who was very experienced with animals, hopeless at business, so that we could share liability and bonding coverage. But we ran the enterprises totally separately, didn't know each other's clients, once he'd got launched.

It was all word of mouth after we got under way, once people realized we never ever talked about them, even to each other,  their security codes and family lives were safely respected, so they could go away and not worry.  

I also dealt now and then with events like sudden plumbing floods, whoa, quick action needed there, more than once. This is why you need grown-ups doing this kind of work in your absence!  People who understand that in the flurry of leaving you might have left the iron, coffee maker and other items plugged in and hot.

All in all, more than playing with animals all day. Lovely though.

I particularly liked Christmas, though our home celebrations had to be moved every year. Because what could be better on Christmas morning than to go from house to house, starting before dawn, to hugs and excited greetings at every stop? How many people other than Santa, can claim that?

Couldn't round up that energy now, though.

Happy day everyone, enjoy whatever's on your schedule today. I'm loafing about, personally, quite tired remembering my youthful  fiftyish self 

Green tomatoes, Indian treats, Fewer, Better Things, Misfits

 Misfits arrived promptly  yesterday

And some of the  blueberries got into a batch of blueberry muffins, one of which went home later with Gary for his  breakfast today.

He and I had a big food connection day. He'd stopped over late afternoon to see how I was, since I hadn't been out walking, too hot. That's when he left with the muffin, hot from the oven.

Later he came dashing in with these

Steaming hot, from the Indian neighbors on his other side, new people I don't know yet. They're crisp outside, soft inside, mildly spicy, savory. He split them with  me. 

I found out later it was an Indian festival day, one I didn't know about. Indian neighbors tend to include everyone in the food aspect of festivals. 

I don't know the name of these items. If anyone does, please say. The friends I'd ask locally are in India for the summer.

Later in the evening he showed up again, with a sad branch of tomato vine. He'd been trying to tie it up and broke it. So when I said you can cook the green tomatoes, he said, no, you can, take them. So here they are

I'll ripen them a bit then make something interesting of them.

Yesterday was definitely a rich and packed day, all in all.

Then I embarked on the lovely Jill Barklem books, starting with Spring Story. Her botanical accuracy is stunning as well as her watercolor skills and the story is really less important than the portrayal of a fantasy world. Here's one of my perennial favorite themes

The dollhouse insight into a series of lives, ss seen in their surroundings. Very similar to the attraction of the opening of Under Milk Wood, seeing into the houses of the sleeping people.

Originally written for children, her work is great at any age, beautiful, meaningful and so very well rendered.

Then there's Glenn Adamson, Fewer, Better Things. Aside from starting off on the right foot by correctly using "fewer", not the accursed "less", he writes very persuasively and knowledgeably and keeps saying things like this

Which stop you dead because they're exactly right. This book will take me a while to read, partly because he keeps saying things like this, partly because I get off on tangents because of artisans and artists he mentions that I need to learn about right away.

Such as Dorothy Gill Barnes,  worker in wood and bark 

She would incise designs in living bark in the tree, wait years to maturity before taking it to work it into art.

He's a wise man and a wise writer. Definitely read this!

Happy day everyone, make things, or read about making things, or go out and just look at the sky to see what it's up to today. 

Look who's at the door asking to come in, and other events

Out walking today, noticed an interesting item at the dumpster, couldn't think what I'd wanted such a thing for, continued walking, came home around the back to find neighbor doing something very strenuous with a concrete umbrella stand. 

Pausing to help round up the Fluffy Runner aka Appie the Shi Tzu, he was glad to straighten up and chat about tomatoes. Loads of green ones on the plants, and last night temps were at freezing. What to do?

So i suggested he yank out the plants, strip off the toms and ripen them on the windowsill. New idea to him. His partner, the good cook, was there helping patiently to hold the concrete stand, and wondered what if they didn't ripen. 

Whereupon we started talking about breaded fried green tomatoes, which interested her. And about how to plant next year's tomatoes now. By taking one off the stem, putting it where you want it next year, and stamping on it. I did this year after year in my old garden, only bought tomato plants one year. This interested him. I'm an equal opportunity talker.

Next thing I'm on my way with samples.

Then a while later a homeless plant showed up. Could I house her? Too many plants next door, what with dogs and cats and pandemonium. I allowed as how I could. Can't remember for the life of me what it is.  

Any help on an ID? Some kind of palm.

Then I suddenly remembered why I wanted this lampstand at the dumpster.

 And to see why, go 

HERE