Well, struggling with the old blogpot tonight. Seems a bit argumentative. Will soldier on. Dudes. It's been a long time. The tiny chicks featured in an earlier post have grown, matured, and been evicted from my kitchen, and then my shed, to be rehomed in a freshly creosoted Ark in the orchard. They seem happy enough with the sunshine to keep them warm. They have not yet got the hang of going upstairs to bed, and downstairs with the sunrise, so training them is a work in progress.
The Farmer and I went to an Antiques Roadshow thingy yesterday, on an RAF base in Norfolk. A good time was had by all, especially us, and I can confirm that Fiona Bruce is long, lithe and lovely. We took a pocket watch which was assessed as being mundane, uncollectable and ordinary despite its great age and functionality! Luckily its scrap-metal value more than made up for the disappointment.
My work at skool is done for first year. This is a photo of my little studio space ready for assessment. Shortly the work will need to be taken down, cast aside and new artistry planned for the forthcoming year. Am wondering if I shall be completely outclassed by my peers, as a second year.... time will tell. (Obviously feeling a little lack of confidence just now...) and I CANNOT persuade this bloody picture to centralise on the page. My apologies.
Here's the Roadshow, Experts amany, in front of a busy hangar
and here.... is the interior of my almost completed 'art studio' down on t' farm. It doubles as a 'loveshack' for the youngsters, and a bolt hole for any crabby and hormonal oldsters who happen to be around.... rear left is a shower room, and rear right is a store room and wardrobe. Upstairs it has what can loosely be described as a bijou bedroom (for bijou you may read miniscule). It has a fridge, a cooker, a sink and a hob. I'm moving in! There is no art on the walls as it is awaiting the attentions of Dave the Plasterer. He will be unfolding his mysteries during the summer. Exciting or what?. I 
And finally. These pretty ladies are my Wives Club. Presently numbering 8, I hope to make 20 or 30 during the summer months. They may (or may not) form the central part of my Art college stuff for second year. They have no faces and no particular detail, excepting that they are all different. Some have their mouths bound. And some have their hands tied. The binding has slipped from one mouth to form a loose noose (I should be a poet). They are embracing each other at the moment.. A friend thought each should be trapped in a box. Even if it was a silk lined box. Time will tell what the future holds for them. In art as in life!
Ye gods and little fishes, time for the gin I think.
Adieu. X
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