Beatrice In The Garden On Her Sixth Birthday, oil on canvas, 10″x12″. Sold.
And that’s where I’m heading right now. Except I’m not bringing Finnegan with me. He digs at things, then eats sticks, then has digestive issues.
I should also mention that I really haven’t ventured into my garden beyond the safe zone since last summer. The safe zone is an arm’s length away from plants and trees. There was an incident last year when I tried to start an herb garden. I have a little old white park bench in the garden (very shabby chic) and I put all sorts of pots of herbs on it. It looked very pretty, and I loved going outside to pick fresh basil for my tomato sauce. That was until one day when I went to cut some fresh chives, and my fingers grazed something that at first glance looked like a tiny spaceship. But when I examined it closer, I discovered possibly the ugliest bug that one could ever dream of. It had all these ridges and wings and parts that seemed like they were made out of steel. I tremble just thinking about it now. I haven’t seen it since, so I’m hoping that the coast is now clear. I’m sure the winter killed it off.