Minerva and the Girls

As the story goes on from the post entitled New Hat:

* * * * * *

 "Maudie?  Maudie!" Minerva honked at her friend's front gate. "Are you ready for the tea party?"

Maudie leaned out one of the front windows and called, "I'll be right there."

After a short wait, the door opened and Miss Maudie bustled out, shutting her front door firmly behind her.

"Oh, what a lovely chapeau, Maudie!" Minerva said immediately.

"And, you remembered to bake beetle brownies as you promised."

With Minerva leading the way,  they flew a short distance and found the other Bossy Boots Club members already gathered in Minerva's flower garden.

The Tea Party, collage/acrylic, 24 x 24

Elizabeth W. Seaver

Ellie Bird, Bella and Vivian flapped over for their huggie-huggie-smoochie-smoochie Bossy Boots hellos, then busied about arranging teacups, plates and napkins.  Besides beetle brownies, there were sweet corn kernels, waterlily shoots and sugared snails.

They settled in for a good gossip.

Generosity

 Soft Sky, oil painting, 9 x 9, by Mary Maxam

Yesterday, I got an email from wonderful artist, Mary Maxam.  She drew my name from all of her followers to win the lovely painting above!  It reminds me of my home state of Texas with big sky and long, flat vistas.  What really appeals to me about her work is that it is impressionistic and lush with vibrant, pure color.  Check out this painting from her recent work.

Thank you, Mary.  Your generosity overwhelms me as your talent humbles me.  I'm so pleased to own one of your paintings.

New Hat

New Hat, collage/acrylic, 5 x 5

Elizabeth W. Seaver

Miss Maudie had spent a happy week working in her garden.  She'd weeded, watered, harvested tomatoes and cucumbers and checked up on the zucchini.  (After all, she must be ready for next month's Leave Zucchini on Your Neighbor's Porch night on August 8th.)  She'd picked and plucked and prodded until her wing tips were sore and dirty.  Very dirty.  And now, she must get ready to go to Minerva's garden party.

Maudie scrubbed and scrubbed at the kitchen sink, with unsatisfactory results.  What could she do, for Minerva and all the other bossy boots would certainly notice and remark the evidence of her efforts in the garden.

"I know," she said to herself, "I'll buy myself a fetching chapeau, and perhaps no one will notice the dirt in my feathers."

And so she did.

Author's note:  I sincerely hope Minerva likes zucchini.

Dancing

Tightrope Walker 2, series, How to Walk a Tightrope

Collage/acrylic, 6 x 6, Elizabeth W. Seaver
Sold

This piece follows in the series after this one which sold in my show at Bistro Bethem in Fredericksburg.  I did a whole set of drawings/sketches for paintings which just wouldn't gel as I was painting for the show.  It has been fun to go ahead now and do those paintings.  The lady and gentleman in my last two posts also fit into that category.

My family left to go back to Texas yesterday after a little more than a week's visit.  They came to see my show and to be there when the public art exhibit was unveiled last Friday night (more on that in a future post.)  We visited family, ate too much and watched fireworks shot into the air right over our heads in a celebration of the Fourth over Lake of the Woods.

While they were here both of my parents suffered from the indignities of growing older with its unpleasant pains and disorders.  My mom spent the night before they left in the emergency room, delaying their departure by a day.

All this is to say that through all of the bother and discomfort at the end of what had been such a fun visit, they continued to laugh and joke and plan and adjust to the changes that life inevitably brings to us all as we age.  It was amazing to witness.  I admire them both so much.

And my extremely competent sister comforted, consulted, packed, sheparded, and rescheduled all the travel plans with shuttles and airline (proving again that she is "the good daughter!") .  Together, they got home safely.

Here's what I think, after watching my family in action this past week--if you keep a laughing, loving, dancing spirit, you will never be old.

Now Her

The Gift, A:  Her, acrylic/collage, 24 x 36

Elizabeth W. Seaver

Here, now, is the object of his affections.  And you can see how he fell for her.  She's fluffy as cotton candy and sweet and cool like peppermint ice cream on a summer's day.

Alas, the two are separated for now because he is hanging in a show called Bird in Word and Image in the main gallery at LibertyTown, and she will be hanging in my studio for the next two months.  Thank goodness they are planning a short engagement.  Come September they will hang side by side where they may gaze at each other all the day long.  

But, will they ever make up their minds which parasol will be The Gift?