A sombre day

Today I finished another whodunit from the Lit & Phil, in Newcastle. This was Wycliffe and the four jacks, by W.J. Burley. At one point, Wycliffe is leaning against a harbour wall thinking about his latest murder case when he notices someone nearby…

… A few feet away a woman painter in water colours had set up her easel; her colours were spread out on a little tray and a water pot dangled from a hook. It needed courage, so nakedly to expose one’s talents.

This passage speaks directly to my anxiety and reluctance to draw or paint in public. Yesterday I was looking through some photographs that I had taken on one of the country walks I went on with my friends Tom and Terry. I can remember the moment. We were walking along a path which wound its way through a silver birch wood. A teenage girl came past on a horse; she was deep in conversation on her mobile phone. I don’t know why but that really annoyed me. It was as if her voice was polluting the soundscape. Be that as it may, I knocked out a watercolour to capture the moment.

Silver birch wood

This morning, I heard the sad news that an old friend of mine, Gerry, has just died. Fortunately he died peacefully; he had not been well for quite some time. We were postgraduate students together and I shared a little terraced house with him and his wife, Mary, when I lived in Sheffield. I shall remember him with much fondness, standing very tall as he did before he needed a wheelchair. He was intelligent, inquisitive, and a lot of fun to be with. My thoughts are with Mary and their family, at this time.

On Sunday I made a chicken and turkey pie. I have to say that I was pleased with the way it turned out. Here is a pic of it before it went into the oven, and then one after cooking when it was on the table.

Chicken pie ready for the oven

Chicken pie on the tab

Speak to you later, my dear blogophiles.

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