Oils

1.People of Blogland, I’ve come back from Home with a sufficiently renewed sense of horror and a suitcase full of life basics: paperbacks, new socks and a bottle of Gewurztraminer Vendanges tardives.
I also carried, carefully wrapped, a painting.

2. Blogfolks, did I mention that my mother is a painter? Not professional, no, but she’s good. (I have tales of naked hippie communes/painting courses I had to tag along to as a child. Some other time.)

3. Excuse me, Miss. Does this item belong to you? The Custom security man asked as I was boarding the Eurostar.
Yes….?
Was it a gift or a purchase? Would you mind unwrapping it?I laughed.
No, it’s not a precious work of art freshly nicked out of the Louvre, which I’d try to sneak out of the country.. actually you’ll clearly see it’s pretty much got to be mine.
Oh, I see, you modelled for it, he smiled.
Well, yeah. And this is my grandmother, and this is her kitchen.
4. My mother was positively chuffed.

5. Look, blogfolks, this blog is two (2) years old now! Happy birthday, blog. Oh, and, the best new year’s eve to you all. Mine looks promising. Special Lady friend, amazing food, and, well, yes.