I’ll get you for that

Sunday March 20, 2005

A grey, uninspiring day which started out warm enough but became decidedly chilly as night fell.

Graham decided, this morning, that it was time to paint the up-and-over garage door a rather classy deep cranberry red, replacing the nasty green-yellow we inherited. The uplifting effect is astonishing, particularly when viewed from the side window in the dining room, where it picks up and reflects the volcanic orange reds of the large Poole plate we have on the wall.

“That looks a helluva lot better,” I said when he came in.

“It’ll need another coat tomorrow,” he said. “Weather permitting.”

“Yeah. Weather permitting. You wouldn’t want to do it now.”

“Why not?”

“It’s coming on to drizzle.”

“Just as well it’s only the first coat, then.”

While he was doing that I was busy painting another postcard. Ye gods and little fishes but these little bits of card are unfriendly to watercolour washes. No matter. I’m more than happy with the learning, even if the results, in spite of everything I can do, seem always to dry to a flat, rather dull finish. I tried one card with a coat of spirit varnish but the surface is not improved, just flat, dull and slightly glossy. I’m not willing to spoil any more cards with experiments like this, so I plonked one finished card in a glazed frame and I have to say that it works a lot better that way.

It’s all about learning, of course. And discipline. As reward, I shall face the eternal problem of rendering multi-layered glazes on normal watercolour paper with a fully re-built confidence when I’m done.

Tell ya what, though. If I ever decide to do another postcard project I shall use a pack of the watercolour postcard stock I found in the Artstore on my last visit.

An uneventful day, really, very quiet and Sunday-like. I’m told that the first of a number of trips to the town dump in Skegness is to take place tomorrow.

“You can have fish and chips if you like,” Graham said.

“That’s nice of you. I’ll give it a pass tomorrow, though. Perhaps after Easter.”

“When’s that?”

“Next weekend.”


“Is that the same as an ‘Eeek?'”

“No. It’s more like a ‘Poke!'”

“How do you mean… Ouch!… I’ll get you for that.”


Stickford, Mar 20,'05
‘Postcards from my head’ No. 9
Dreaming of mountains



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