Today it's just a doodle

Ink pen, pencil, watercolour and brush markers in Windsor and Newton sketchbook

Not in the mood for much more than some desultory scribbles through the day. 

The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady

Brush markers in small Moleskine sketchbook

I'm beginning to feel like her... the Edwardian lady, Edith Holden. Except not as good. I can't stop with the garden already. The top two drawings done from photographs I was filing away today. Really messed one page up so stuck some Japanese craft paper on it and carried on drawing. The bottom two done quickly in the garden. 

Fresh: his and hers

Brush markers in Moleskine sketchbook

You've got to be really quick sketching the ready meal if you want to eat it hot. I scribbled in the pattern of the plate (looks like sloppy crochet) and the place mat afterwards. In this house, rule of thumb is: if one of us likes an item of food, the other doesn't. Makes for good communal eating.

Red Robin and Baggesen's Gold

OK. It's happened. I missed a day. In fact, I had to let it happen or my obsessive personality would go into overdrive. Yesterday I was busy all day writing a catalogue text, and then I had chores and more chores to do. I didn't want drawing in my sketchbook and posting on the blog to become one of those chores. I've been thinking that blogging is a bit like standing on a hilltop and shouting that you're going on diet, or giving up smoking. Then everyone knows, and you can't go back on your word. But I've broken the spell, so now I feel a bit freer. I went back into the garden with my drawing gear this morning. 

Brush markers and watercolour in Windsor and Newton sketchbook

Lilac and sambucus on the deck

Ink pen and brush marker and watercolour in Windsor and Newton sketchbook.

The smell of the lilac is heavenly. The lonicera at the back, though fragrantissima, is, like the lacy sambucus, still only stretching and yawning. (Yes, I know the Jewish response: "what, now you're a gardener?")

More of the garden

Brush markers in small Moleskine sketchbook

There's what we call a stream at the bottom of the garden - I think "ditch" might be more accurate, but a family of moorhens lives there. I caught sight of the chicks, but not for long enough to draw them. The fence is an attempt to keep badgers out of our garden, but rabbits hop about happily on our lawn in the early morning. 

Various Possums in the garden and a pair of shoes

I thought yesterday might be Dog's last day on earth. We sat for a long time quietly in the garden, she in variations of a single position, me with my new small Moleskine sketchbook. Drawing this way, from observation – from life – is a very grounding thing. The concentration on something outside of oneself – focussed, but at the same time suspended, not straining – is a kind of existential yoga, and a darn sight less tiring than Ashtanga and Bikram yoga. Today, for the first time, Possum has really perked up and shown a little interest in food and in doing a bit more than just lying down, so fingers crossed.

Brush markers in small Moleskine sketchbook.

Bottom of the garden

Brush markers and watercolour in Windsor and Newton sketchbook.

Blossoms and Possum

I've spent the last three mornings, early and before it gets too hot, sitting out in the garden with my ailing geriatric hound, drawing the plants I've nurtured: this is the first garden in which I've ever been an active participant of planting and tending. We inherited some mature fruit trees: two apples and a plum. Most of the blossoms are turning now and dropping, though the plum tree still puts on a rich show of blowsy blooms: I had a real sense of carpe diem all round.

Both drawings ink pen, brush markers and watercolours in Windsor and Newton sketchbook

Hairdressing salon

Pencil, pencil crayon and brush marker in Moleskine sketchbook.