#HundredDaysofSketching

Today on All My Guppies

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5 1BundlesofJoy web It seems that when Herman the Hermit, my plecostomus, arrived, he brought a stowaway to Tankland with him.  It was a snail who promptly cleaned the sides aquarium and then took a vacation under the gravel for a couple weeks. I thought she had died in horror when she saw the state of the studio that lay beyond the glass (or disappointment that she had not landed in the aquarium of famed illustrator and snail portraitist Abrah Griggs), but it turned out she was feathering her stony nest to welcome a bunch of babies.

 

Oscar the Guppy, still annoyed with the Minions for holding a meeting of the Guppy Poets Society without him, looked at the swarm of little white smells climbing the walls of the aquarium, and little bubbles could be seen escaping from his gills as he shook his head in a silent “tsk”. The Minions, however, are always happy to see new life in the tank. Herman the Hermit made it clear he had no opinion as long as everyone leaves some algae for him to eat.

 

The babies ignored the chatter and decided to explore above the waterline, lodging in the hood light.  Their adventures shorted out the LED light. Oscar the Guppy, having found it terribly tacky, decided that perhaps the little ones should stay (It didn’t hurt that the snails seem to share his affinity for a clean tank) and was heard to say, “Good things really do come in lots of tiny packages.”

Change Rest Change

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It was a cool great day on the Taconic Parkway, but the weather was perfect for walking around Manhattan.

We had zipped down to help a friend move a few things to their apartment on the upper West side and then headed to the other side of Central Park to see a Turner exhibit. 

T1 drove us, a huge change from the country driving when he cut his teeth. It was unnerving but also a little thrilling to see him navigate Manhattan streets and city life with the skill and confidence of an adult. 

The Big Guy lived in Boston when you’re first married, and our day trip reminded us of how much we once loved city living. we took a secured us walk from the parking garage to the museum and back, soaking up the music of at least seven languages heard from passersby and the aromas of myriad restaurants.

It was a feast for our senses and a change from the daily grind almost as huge as realizing that Thing1 will be perfectly fine when he gets out on his own. But a lot of times a changes isn’t just as good as a rest, it’s way better.

Growth Spurt

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In retrospect, regaling the boys with tales of Summer camp on Lake Champlain highlighted by trips to the original Ben & Jerry’s to tackle the Vermonster with my bunk mates could only have been seen as a challenge by your all-american ten year old. 

After all, I only told them about the free T-shirts we got for consuming a scoop of every single flavor Ben & Jerry’s made in 1985 and not about the all night bathroom visits that followed.  In the end, I could only blame myself when Thing2 spotted the Ben & Jerry’s store on Church street in Burlington and began mentally planning a scaled down version of the Vermonster for one – after a healthy lunch of course. 

But it was vacation — however small, and I let him get two scoops of Fully Baked in a chocolate dipped cone if only to prove to him that, despite the start of a new growth spurt, his stomach hasn’t outgrown his eyes or his imagination.

Love the One You’re With

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4 25Art Kit web

They say the best camera is the one you have with you. It’s one of the reasons I abandoned my SLR camera in favour of one-handed point-and-shoots while Thing2 still wanted to hold my hand everywhere we went.  

I’ve found the same holds true for art supplies. I have a drawer full of watercolour supplies, but lately, it’s the $6 purse-sized watercolour tin and purse-sized journal that have been winning the title of ‘best art supplies’.  

More from Less

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4 25GlassMenagarie web

The Big Guy and I rarely go to movies. It’s too expensive once you add snacks, and since most of the movies geared towards adolescent boys rely on volume to sell their stories, we’re just as happy to let the kids watch them on Netflix with the headphones plugged in.

We are religious about our local theater, Hubbard Hall in Cambridge, NY, however.  The title on the playbill is irrelevant. When Hubbard Hall announces a new play, we make plans to see it with and then without the boys.

We were both reminded of the reason why on Saturday night when we went to see Tennessee William’s Glass Menagerie. The most autobiographical of his plays, it depicts the dysfunctional mother and her two dysfunctional older children trying to carve out a living and a life for themselves.

Hubbard Hall is famous for stripping down a play to its bare bones. Occasionally they incorporate elaborate sets into the stage design, but more frequently, minimal props and sets are used.  Hubbard Hall has been fortunate to have had a string of wonderful directors and actors, and the less elaborate sets let the audience focus on performances where simplicity works to suspend reality for two hours.  It leaves the viewer gripping their seat the entire time as they react to the play and pray for the spell to continue as long as possible.

Saturday did not disappoint.  When the daughter Laura’s unicorn and then her heart are broken, I could see other audience members on the verge of tears.  When the son leaves and reflects on his abandonment of his family, people next to me were audibly crying. 

The play ended almost on a whisper, and, even though it was almost the cost of a movie for four (minus the snacks), the Big Guy and I walked back to the car in awe — as we always are — of how much bang we got for our bucks.

Cats and Kings

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4 20CatandKing web

Our dog is pretty good about not begging at dinner time, but Snoop, our fat black god of pleasure, has a habit of parking himself by the Big Guy’s chair as soon as the Big Guy settles himself and his plate at our round pedestal dinner table.  

Snoop stares longingly up at the Big Guy.  The Big Guy, doing his best ogre imitation, orders him to go away and starts to eat.  Snoop begins a classic silent meow, but ends it with a squeak to make sure the Big Guy is aware of how adorable he’s being.  The Big Guy ignores him for a few bites until Snoop reaches a paw up to pat the Big Guy’s leg.

Then the contest begins, with the cat and Big Guy staring each other down until someone gets the next bite of whatever is on the Big Guy’s plate.  Snoop doesn’t always win, but he does so often enough to make it quite clear to the humans that it’s not the cat who is looking at a king. 

Love and Algae

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4 19Under the Flower Tree web

 O Little Thinker Girl, hanging out there,
I care not if you have old clothes or un-abundant hair
For it is not mere beauty that me ensnares.
 
 No, I hide quiet under the boughs, for now from you apart,
Waiting for the algae of our love to grow again between our hearts
Just as it did a just few weeks ago at the very start.
 
P.S.
If you please, a little extra sludge at your feet
Would also be really neat.
The fact that it’s gluten-free makes it a real treat.

–  by Herman the Hermit, guest contributor to the Guppy Poets Society, on the occasion of finding no new algae at the feet of the Little Thinker Girl. 

Date Night

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Last Friday night Thing1 had a hot date, and the Big Guy had a gig playing guitar with his Québécois band at the local country store, so Thing2 and I decided to have Mommy-Thing2 evening.

We got to our favorite pub in Manchester, VT and, after ordering our drinks and appetizers, I pulled out my sketchbook and started sketch the candleholder.

Right on cue — as he does at every art museum or any time I’m sketching on the road — T2 asked if I had an extra journal. For once, i had thought to pack an extra, and the two of us sketched together in silence until our food arrived.

We came up with with wildly different pictures and spent the rest of the meal talking about art, architecture on Mars and art supplies.

It made for a different but quietly wonderful kind of date night.