Day five of Inktober. Some of Bonnie’s best friends are scruffy little dogs who love nothing more than tearing around the park after my long legged gangling of a dog.
So you’ll be bombarded with drawings everyday this October, everything that comes out of my head and into my sketchbook gets put on here, warts and all and all that jazz.
Here’s day one, I’ll post days two and three today as well so I’ve caught up.
Enjoy and let’s get drawing!
The sun finally dragged itself from behind the Swansea perma-cloud this weekend for a brief, glimpse of warmth before the next rainy deluge.
It was what the wildlife in our garden was waiting for. All the bugs, bees, butterflies and other pollen loving beasties made their annual pilgrimage to our flowering ivy.
Evie was the first to immerse herself in fluttering red admirals. She dipped apple slices in sugar water and stood by the ivy waiting for one of them to sample some sugary loveliness.
There are two mornings in the year that are terrible. They are so very terrible because there is nothing you can do to hide from the fact that there is school that day.
The first terrible morning is the morning after the summer holidays. Like a dark shadow cast over the summer that went on forever, the morning marks the death knell of a season of bare feet and adventures.
The second terrible morning is the morning after the Christmas holidays, the decorations look stale, the tree flops to one side and it isn’t even daylight yet.
That moment looms before you have to wake them up and bring in the morning. I’m a mum alarm clock. I try to be cheery but I think that makes it even worse.
I’ve tried matter of fact but that just makes me sound cold.
I’ve tried distraction, “oh look it’s sunny” but that deepens the despair.
It’s like ripping off a plaster, make it quick, make it over with as soon as possible.
I’m not an amazing knitter but I find it very relaxing and I enjoy making toys for my lot.
That is until the knitting monster arrives.
The knitting monster will has a few lines of attack.
The first is to stalk you silently, slowly, crawling on silent paws until the final burst of claws and fluff descend.
The second is through masquerade. Knitting monster will curl up beside you and pretend to fall asleep but do not be fooled! Oh no, knitting monster is merely biding his time until lots of lovely wool unravels itself all around him and he engages all four paws in attack and shred.
I am aghast.
An artist’s dog should know that there are many things you may chew but pencils, pencils are utterly unforgivable.
What were you thinking Bonnie?
Still I found a new one to draw about it tonight.