Special request for my daughter who wanted a drawing of the late Layne Staley from Alice in Chains. Hope I got that right. I guess he was an Ozzy fan.
My November Day 14
Never let it be said that I won’t attempt the damnedest things. My oldest granddaughter asked me for this, although it was awhile ago and she may have forgotten. I hope she recognizes him. I gave it my best shot.
Twenty days of blog neglect must mean I have at least half that many lame excuses for it, so yes, that’s what comes next.
But first, this is a drawing requested by my 14-year-old grandson of some random YouTube guy. Two of my granddaughters knew right away who he was supposed to be and even told me his name. However, as talented at portraiture as this grandma might be, remembering names is not her strong point. So call him whatever you want. I don’t think his teeth are that weird in real life.
Here’s what’s going on in my life, in random order of importance
- After many scaredy cat delaying tactics I finally got up the nerve to sit down and figure out how to take a blood sugar reading. The first few stabs at it were incredibly frustrating but now I’m poking my finger tips with sharp things three times a day like a pro. So come on, how hard was that? You think you can’t do something and then you find out you’re not such a wimp after all.
- Results of my mammogram were normal. Can you imagine being the person who spends her day flopping boobs on to glass plates and squishing them in different directions? Don’t ever complain about your job again.
- Bone density test was also normal. So now I feel I can blame a large percentage of my weight problem on seriously dense bones. Those things are heavy, man.
- The radiologist who looked at my abdominal ultrasound noticed some sort of mass on or above my uterus and has advised a pelvic ultrasound to investigate further. This of course scares the hell out of me, but what can you do except make the appointment and show up for it, right?
- I spent a day at the Hip and Knee clinic with W learning all about his upcoming hip replacement surgery, scheduled for November 3rd. He will be in hospital for three or four days, and unable to drive for six weeks. So basically, totally at my mercy.
- The hand rail for our basement steps has been missing since we removed it when we moved in to this house, so we could get furniture down the stairs more easily. For over thirty years I have been suggesting that we should put that thing back up before one of us falls head first into the rec room. A cute little nurse at the clinic insisted that there must be a hand rail or W would have to refrain from using the stairs after his surgery. The tv is down there. The handrail is now up.
- Next week I go to the Multidisciplinary Care Clinic in the Primary Care Network building to learn how to cope on a day-to-day basis with my medical condition. Now we just have to decide what exactly my medical condition is.
- If you know me even slightly you will know how much I dislike schedules and regimes and rules and itineraries. I prefer to be an undisciplined brat. However, I am now keeping a log of my blood sugar readings, blood pressure when I remember to take it, and every single thing I eat and drink every day. I hope I am burning a lot of calories writing all this shit down. This record is a requirement for my appointment. They even make you write it all down in pen, I suppose in case you are tempted to make untruthful revisions. As if I would do that. With my erasable ink pen….
- Almost every day I go for a walk. Some days I feel like I could go forever, and other days just putting my socks and running shoes on wears me out. I find having a purpose and a destination works better than wandering aimlessly about the neighborhood. The mall is my favourite destination. Buying random things like a ridiculously long shoe horn from the dollar store for W because he won’t be able to bend over after surgery seemed like an admirable purpose. I’m sure I can think up many more like that one.
- My middle granddaughter is always looking for paper to draw on, so when I was visiting them I gave her my big partly used white paper sketch book. Within minutes she had drawn a head with a beautiful face and glorious blue hair. It’s possible she’s filled the entire book by now. Anyway, I need a new one and can’t possibly do any proper sketching until I get one. What my excuse is for neglecting all my other art is a mystery.
And that’s it! A not so brief summary of my October so far. We had Thanksgiving dinner in there somewhere. It caused my highest blood sugar reading to date. I blame the sweet potatoes. Better them than me.
The woman who plays Phryne Fisher (Essie Davis) has beautiful deep-set eyes, incredible cheekbones and a perfect heart-shaped face. All of that makes her Dutch boy bob look like a million bucks. I wore my hair like this when I was six. I did not look this good. If you didn’t know that’s who this is supposed to be, that’s okay. It’s still an interesting face and worth the big charcoal mess I’ve made.
Feels like I’ve been on vacation for a week with all this Netflix watching. At least I’m feeling slightly less guilty about it now for having finished this.
And now I deserve another cup of coffee without any charcoal dust floating in it. Hope you’re having a fantastic Friday!
I wonder why I can’t see the things that are wrong with a drawing until I take a photograph of it. By that point I usually don’t care enough to go back and fix it up. Some of my fix ups have been disastrous, so I’m trying to learn to just leave well enough alone and try harder next time.
This one is all about the smirk. Or sucking on ice cubes, I can’t decide.
It’s still cold here. But it’s still January, isn’t it? The daylight is increasing in little leaps but no bounds yet. Soon the lack of sufficient lengths of it will no longer be a valid excuse for whatever you’re trying to get yourself out of, or merely put off, which in my case is painting something on a canvas. That’s two very awkward sentences in a row! Fix them up for me, would you?
It’s getting dark and I’m hungry. This has been the worst Art commentary ever. I’ll try harder next time.
When I showed it to him he knew who it was and laughed. I took that as a good sign that I hadn’t traumatized him for life.
Yesterday W came across a picture on Facebook of someone we haven’t seen for over thirty years and remarked that he looks awful. He doesn’t really, he just looks old, because, well, he’s old. We see our own changes gradually, and are often shocked at the changes in other people with whom we’ve lost touch. Inside I feel like I’ve never left my thirties, but the mirror tells a different story.
So this is not the face I married, although he’s in there somewhere. I’m going to hang on to this until we’re in our nineties and then show it to him again so we can both see how handsome he was way back in the day. This is of course supposing we both live that long and can still see and remember where we put things.
I was looking at celebrity high school yearbook pictures on some Facebook site (yes, we both have way too much time on our hands these cold dreary January days) and the captions were statements of disbelief and what happened? Well, time happened, you idiot caption writer.
Here’s to time and the wonderful changes it makes to our life-well-lived faces.
All morning in my head I’ve been singing “What are you doing New Years Eve” – the Zoe/Joseph version, which is the best one I’ve ever heard.
Sing along…all day long….you’re welcome.
Happy new year. Don’t drink and drive. In my case it will be don’t drink and draw. I did that once and the results were scary.