On With the Woodcuts

I'm doing a linoleum print of the dolls I'm painting, but got sick of the tedium of it. I decided to do a quick woodcut for relief. Already I had forgotten how much easier it is to cut the soft wood and how much bolder the image seems. This took about a half hour. It's not a new image.......it's from a self-portrait monoprint I did when I was in school. It looks nothing like me, or even the way I looked then, but I wasn't going for a likeness and I really like the print.

Typically, I have begun to use the backs of old proofs to try out the new ones. My meager supply of suitable paper for both proofs and prints is disappearing alarmingly. Not knowing how long my interest will last, I'm not anxious to put money into supplies. Time will tell.

Winter seems to be on the horizon. It's cold and damp and dreary. The day is seeming long, since I got up an hour earlier than normal (misread the clock). After the activity of the last several days, I'm feeling lethargic. I have a movie from Netflix that has been threatening to get lost in the coffee table clutter for several weeks. Perhaps I'll break tradition and turn on the TV during the daylight hours, settle down with the dogs, and spend the rest of the afternoon in a semi-vegetative state on the couch. It's the perfect day for a movie.

Thanksgiving

What a beautiful warm day it was as I walked to David and Thom's carrying my soup, biscuits, and cheesecake. I was taking a big chance with a kettle of soup and an uncovered cheesecake in old IGA bags, but I felt that taking the car would be rediculous in view of the fact that I had only two blocks to go. When I arrived at the door, the second potential disaster faced me in the form of Dylan the exhuberant. To the usual ineffectual pleas of "No Dylan, Down Dylan," I carried my bounty to the kitchen without incident. The familiar smell of Thanksgiving filled the house, the same smell of all the 60-odd Thanksgivings I have experienced. It's nice that some things keep coming back to remind us that time isn't a straight line but a cycle.

I will say that this meal was one of the best I can remember. The table was formally and graciously set with china, silver, a beautiful centerpiece and candles. The turkey was brown and beautiful, but still moist. The gravy was smooth as silk . The potatoes were perfectly whipped, the carrots just tender and seasoned to perfection. The stuffing, cooked inside the bird, was traditional enough to be authentic but even more delicious. The cranberry sauce David made was perfectly spiced and full of pecans for just the right touch of crunch. I might add that my apple soup was aromatic with just the right amount of curry, and my biscuits were light. The cheesecake had been a lot of trouble to make because my electric mixer wouldn't work, but it was worth it. Meg, our guest(since I can't consider myself a guest in that so familiar household), brought a bottle of good red wine, which we drank while Thom finished the preparations. We had champagne with the meal, and good coffee with desert.


It really is wonderful to take the time and effort to follow a tradition, knowing that even though you can't see them most of the other people in the country are doing the same thing. It brings a sense of unity with our countrymen, even if it did hail the destruction of Native American culture. We could be more appropriately beating ourselves in penance for our transgressions. I suppose a lot of traditions are steeped in some evil origins, but what can we do? We are the human animal.

Thanksgiving Cheesecake

I was in charge of dessert this year, along with rolls and apple soup. I've heard that the measure of a cheesecake is whether it cracks or not. This one looks like it didn't even try to stay smooth. It's a pumpkin cheesecake, though it seems that the fresh chicken eggs (6 of them) worked poorly with the pumpkin to create a rather disgusting green color. Well, I hope it will taste good, since it will surely lose the prettiness prize.

Got it after all