Thursday, December 10, 2020
Wednesday, December 9, 2020
Tuesday, December 8, 2020
Monday, December 7, 2020
Monday, November 30, 2020
I REMEMBER ALMOST NOTHING from the weeks and months after Peter died, and this mystifies me. I was in such pain, I was so filled with grief and shock, I would think that these emotions would have plastered themselves, along with my actions and experiences, into some sort of indelible memory.
Instead, the very opposite has happened. Days, weeks, months are gone.
The first bird I painted - or at least, the first bird I posted - was a bluebird, on Jan. 2. Peter died on Oct. 10. I know I had this bird-painting idea as a solution to the sudden problem of not being able to do shows, because of the dogs, and because I was hurting so much. I know I wanted to get ahead with the bird paintings, for my own peace of mind and also because (and this astounds me now) I was planning to drive to Arizona in late January to visit my dad and Paula.
I don't remember painting the birds, not these early ones. I remember the paintings, when I look at them, but not the process. I write in that Jan. 2 post that it is my second day of the bird project - but there seems to be no first day.
That is what this all feels like - I know things happened, and people visited, and helped me. I know I went places and did things, but it's just not there.
And maybe that is all for the best.
it will come through the expression of your own personality."
- Bruce Barton
“If you have anything really valuable to contribute to the world,” said Bruce Barton, “it will come through the expression of your own personality,
Monday, November 16, 2020
I'M UP BY 5, usually, and I sit here at the kitchen table, next to an east-facing window, and I write, and wait for the sky to lighten. There have been mornings, many of them this year, in which it seemed that, for sure, the sun would not come up. The night would stretch out farther and farther, and I would look at the clock and the sky again and again and wonder if today would be the day. And then, of course, the sky would lighten, and the world would be set right again.
I like the time change, the earlier dawns, and even the earlier dusks. Right after Peter died, the days could not end early enough for me, and even now, there are many days in which I welcome the darkness, and I close the curtains and feel safe and shut in, and glad that the day is over.
Here in Wachapreague, sunset starts to come later on Dec. 7. It is by seconds at first, two seconds, then five, then 12, incremental, unnoticeable, largely unnoticed. Sunrise, however, continues to come later - by large parts of minutes - until Jan. 7.
So I will look out the window, those early January days, and surely, on one or two of them, I will wonder - is it today?
"One can have no smaller or greater mastery than mastery of oneself."
- Leonardo DaVinci
Monday, November 9, 2020
Though I have never caught the word
of God from any calling bird,
I hear all that the ancients heard.
Though I have seen no deity
Enter or leave a twilit tree,
I see all that the seers see.
A common stone can still reveal
Something not stone, not seen, yet real.
What may a common stone conceal?
Wednesday, November 4, 2020
(The PayPal buttons have just not been working well recently. If the button doesn't work, it might mean that someone else has bought the painting, but it might mean that the button isn't working. So if you want this red-winged blackbird, please email me at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com)
WHEN PETER DIED, I lost more than my husband, my partner, my best friend. I have a terrible memory, and Peter had a great one. He could remember the phone numbers of every place we lived. He remembered people from decades ago and what we had for supper last Thursday.
I could turn to him and ask, "Do you remember that movie with that actress who was in that golf movie and that other guy who played James Bond?" and he would say, "Oh, sure, the 'Thomas Crown Affair.'"
Usually, by the time I realized that I couldn't remember the name of anyone in the movie, let alone the movie's title, I'd have forgotten whatever it was I wanted to tell him about it. But sometimes I'd remember. And, bless him, he never even teased me about my terrible memory.
And if I've already written about this, well, see the paragraphs above.
Cards and Calendars
Tuesday, November 3, 2020
(If you want this painting and the button doesn't work, you can email me or paypal me at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com, and I will mark this painting "sold"! Someone might have gotten there before you, or the PayPal button might just not be working.)
EVERY MORNING, the dogs greet me with delight and unabashed celebration, licking and kissing me, wagging, rolling around on the bed. Doing dog stuff.
I realized this week, that that morning greeting includes sneezing! Every day, all four dogs sneeze at least once every morning. What a lovely way to start the day. Wish human waking involved a good daily sneeze.
I TRIED TO EXPLAIN the time change to the dogs this week, and they did not understand. In fact, it made me realize that I truly don't understand why we still do this.
DOC AND I started dog school last week. My hope is that Doc will learn that while he's on a leash, he shouldn't lunge, barking and snarling, at golf carts, trucks with trailers, other dogs, or humans holding things in their hands. He seems to be making progress.
One primary notion of dog school is that I must and can stop him from practicing the behaviors that I don't like. Mostly, this has to do with distracting him with food and positive feedback. I think this concept is entirely applicable to me and my own life, though maybe less with the food and more with the positive feedback.
Monday, November 2, 2020
Thursday, October 29, 2020
Cards and Calendars
It's very different for me to see my pieces printed, and to see a bunch of them all together. I make them one at a time, and by and large, they fly away regularly. I rarely see them together, unless one of my collectors sends me a photo.
So this is very exciting!
The calendars - I had 50 made - are $20 each plus $2 shipping, if I have to ship. The cards are $10 for a group of six (with envelopes), plus $2 shipping. If you're here, and you pick them up, no shipping.
To get yours, please email me at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com
- Having a character named for you in an upcoming David Baldacci novel (!!!)
- Participate in a virtual meet and greet with NASCAR driver Corey Lajoie
- A first edition of "Huckleberry Finn," or...
- A pet portrait by ME!
Monday, October 26, 2020
Friday, October 23, 2020
Egret in a Tree
Monday, October 19, 2020
I have no interest in bocce, but it was Jeannie's birthday, and I like Jeannie, and also most of the Wachapreague women (Wachawomen) who participate in these bocce things. And it was a beautiful October day, with golden sunshine and that particular sweet warmth that seems to come only on the heels of a crisp morning.
And I knew that my friend Liesl - Our Favorite Austrian - would be there. I had a pleasant time, chatting with Liesl and the girls, and as I walked home, I thought about how instrumental she has been in my healing after Peter's death.
Sunday, October 18, 2020
Sandpiper in a Clam Shell
Thursday, October 15, 2020
Wednesday, October 14, 2020
Crow in a Tree
Tuesday, October 13, 2020
Tuesday, October 6, 2020
Morning in the Hills
Monday, October 5, 2020
(I've been having trouble with the PayPal buttons, so if you want to buy this lovely little bluejay and the button doesn't work, please email me at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com!)
THE SUMMER'S HUMMINGBIRDS left on Thursday. I put new nectar out at the start of the week, and I saw hummers at the feeders through Wednesday, and then - none.
They were my friends and companions here all summer, humming around my head, entertaining me with their antics at the feeder, amazing me with their speed and agility.
How I miss them!
Saturday is the one-year anniversary of Peter's death. When the hummingbirds left, it felt like they took summer with them. When he died, it felt like he took everything with him.
So I am going away, with my friend Carol and her mother, to a clean Air B&B where we stay every year during the show in Crozet. There's no show, but we had the reservation, and so we are going anyways. He would be proud of me.
A Final Thought
Sunday, October 4, 2020
Hummingbird on Broken Branch
Thursday, October 1, 2020
Canada Goose Revisited
Monday, September 28, 2020
Hummer by Orange Flowers
This bird has flown!
HERE ARE SOME FUN FACTS about hummingbirds, from Kaytee.com
- They are the smallest migrating bird, but don't migrate in flocks. Typically, a hummer will travel alone for up to 500 miles at a stretch.
- The name comes from the humming noise their wings make.
- They're the only birds that can fly backwards.
- Hummingbirds have no sense of smell, but have great color vision. Different varieties prefer different colored flowers. The ruby-throated hummer likes orange or red flowers best - but red dye should not be used in nectar as it could harm the birds. Instead, plant naturally red or orange flowers or use feeders that have red coloring in their structure.
- Your average hummingbird weighs less than a nickel.
- They use their legs only for perching and moving sideways on a perch. They can't walk or hop.
- A hummer drinks from a feeder by moving its tongue in and out - about 13 times a second. That hummer can drink double its body weight in a day.
- The female typically lays two eggs only. They're about the size of jellybeans, and have been found in nests smaller than a half-dollar. Some varieties, like the black-chinned hummingbird, make nests with plant down, spider silk or other materials that can expand as their babies grow.
- A group of hummers can be referred to as a flock, a bouquet, a glittering, a hover, a shimmer or a tune.
- There are more than 330 species of hummingbirds in North and South America!
For more, see https://www.kaytee.com/learn-care/wild-bird/hummingbird-facts.
A Last Thought
"If you have talent, use it in every which way possible. Do not hoard it. Do not dole it out like a miser. Spend it lavishly like a millionaire intent on going broke."
- Brenda Francis