Kendall's Family

I was quite interested in trying to paint from some old photographs that Kendall has of her family, so she lent me this one.  Painting in black and white proved to be much more difficult than I imagined.  At first I thought I wasn't going to be able to do it satisfactorily, but after several days of trying and failing, I finally seemed to get the hang of it. The next challenge was to get some kind of likeness of the five people.  I'm sure each person was never so closely examined during their lifetime as what I have done in the past few weeks.  It is such an intriguing process that never fails to fascinate and entertain me.  After looking at someone's picture for some time, I begin to feel as if I know them.  This sometimes leads me to believe that I know what they look like more than the camera does, so I have to keep checking to make sure I stay focused.  I name them and talk to them as I work and am constantly amazed at how easily a likeness can be lost and found and lost again with the slightest mark of the brush.  It's necessary to remember that I am trying to represent a person and not create a person.  Looking at the photograph of the painting gives me another perspective, and I am now not sure of how well I have done that.  Have I painted them, or have I painted somebody else..........or nobody else?

Patrick continues to recover from his strange illness.  He seems even happier than before, which makes me wonder if he may have been sick for a long time and I didn't realize it.  Or it could be that the medication he's on is working as some kind of mood altering drug.  In any case, I have ceased to worry that when I wake up in the morning he may be dead.  Since the cause of his problem is still a mystery, I can't relax completely, but so far everything is going well.  I'm still living in the never-never land that fear of losing him has imposed on my psyche.  I must say I am settling into it, shuffling through each day rather aimlessly, oblivious for the most part to any bigger picture than what is right in front of me.

Pretty Garden, Patrick, Visit from Carrie

 You'd never know it was Spring by the temperature, but the plants know what to do anyway.  My efforts with the garden are very rewarding, and every year it looks better than ever.

Patrick seems to have finally recovered from whatever was wrong with him, but he is still on two kinds of medication.  He had several more setbacks since I last wrote.  I am amazed that he survived after all he has been through, and no one knows the cause.  His illness has taken over my life. Even now I keep watching him for signs of a relapse.  I've not been able to concentrate on anything else.  Now, even though he is better, I have settled into a routine of sloth that I have not yet been able to give up. It's not unusual to find me lounging on the couch in the middle of the afternoon, surrounded by happy dogs, reading or (gasp!) watching a movie on TV.
 Carrie visited for four days, left this morning.  We spent our time talking, shopping, eating, watching movies, wandering the downtown, and walking with the dogs on the beach.  The pace was slow and very enjoyable.  It is very easy to have her in the house.....almost as if she has always been here.  After she leaves, I miss her for the time it takes for me to adjust  to the solitude again.  

Sick Dog

I don't know how long it's been since I posted anything, but It's been awhile.  All of my time has been taken up with Patrick, as well as all of my thoughts and energy.  Somehow he is still alive, but I have thought many times he was about to die.

There is no need to go through it all in any detail, but he has been to three different vets and none of them can find the problem..........not even Dr. Cloutier in Bangor.  I've borrowed money from everyone I thought would give it to me, shamelessly, but with ever-lasting gratitude.  Despite all of this, he is still sick.  One day he will seem to be on the edge of recovery, and the next he will decline again.

So my days have been spent watching him, offering him food, giving him medication.  I'm not able to focus on anything else.  The world revolves around the look on his face, the position he sleeps in, if and how much he eats, how well he walks.  I wake up many times during the night to put my hand on his side, feeling for evidence that he is still breathing. The time is measured by phone calls from the vet, a woman I had never met but heard about from Thom and David.  Each call sustains my hope and gives me a link to the outside, where I find an ally, someone sharing the enormity of the situation who is in a position to give knowledgeable help.

Other things have happened, probably significant, but I don't notice them.

Fun with Eric

The weather is so beautiful now that I wanted to let the dogs run on the beach.  I drove them to South Beach, where we had walked many times, and found it inaccessible.  The new owners of the property have blocked the path with boulders.  A lobster pound is being built there and apparently public access to the beach is now denied.  This is the price of the
economic growth of the town.....new businesses sprouting up, "improvements" that will bring prosperity.  Luckily there is enough of the old Eastport left to allow me to still love the place, but it will eventually become a tourist destination like those coastal towns to the southwest of us........the ones we came to Eastport to escape.  Well, my hope is that it will take long enough to allow me to miss the full transformation.

So, without access to the beach, we walked around the parking area amidst the cinder blocks, machinery, enormous walls of concrete, and gigantic truck bodies.  Willy escaped from my grasp and disappeared behind the skeleton of a
building. Patrick and I hurried after him and eventually I captured him. As we rounded the corner back to the parking lot a car drove up and a woman I recognized from my morning walks got out. She, too, was hoping for a walk on the beach with her dog, Eric. We made the best of things by letting the dogs have a good, noisy romp together. I had brought my camera expecting to take pictures of the water, so I could photograph the happy boys playing together. We humans frowned and lamented the loss of our beach, but a parking lot is as good as a beach as far as the dogs were concerned. Patrick joined the games, barking constantly, which is rare for him. Ordinarily he prefers to watch, slightly disgusted with the antics of the others.
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This is the first time I have ever seen Willy tired, but when we left his tongue was hanging......but his open mouth was certainly smiling