Why do artists procrastinate? It's not because they don't love what they do.
I've got the studio up and am dabbling in finishing a painting of cows that I started in Tiverton in September, I think. The cows are in dappled shade and it is about 90% done. It's that other 10% that's so worrisome. Maybe it will be posted on my Just Painting blog.
No one can fit more stuff in a car than I can.
We're leaving at 3 AM which gets us to New Jersey
by about 8AM. Then it's my turn to drive. 
Tommy and Ryan
Only 41 posts on this blog since I began it in October 2005.
I'm gonna get back to it.
Here's a photo to prove it.
Merry Christmas everybody!
The heat wave continues. Temps reaching 100 in some places. Here by the ocean we've been fortunate the past two days to have a cooling seabreeze to keep the temps down in the high 70's low 80's.
Just perfect for walking Morey, our 'it takes a village' dog, who belongs to Suzie and Jim across the street.
He's a 90lb yellow lab and he poops like a circus elephant. Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration but not by much. Walking him in the off season is much easier because I take him through the dunes and when he makes a deposit I just bury it real good and pile some big rocks on top so that no one will step in it.
But, it's high summer and Sue & Jim went away for 4 days so 2 walks a day adds up to alot of poo.
So I took a plastic grocery bag and some paper towels on our first walk and cleaned up the doggie doo but I forgot that he always has more and I had knotted the bag and now I'm walking on the beach carrying my bag of poop hoping that he's done.
We walk way down and on the way back just as we're getting close to where we exit the beach, Morey drops into a squat and drops a load about 20 feet from a woman with several small children on a blanket. The kids gape as I wave my bag and assure the woman that I'm gonna clean it up but my bag is knotted and I'm out of towels so I troll up to the rocks near the dunes trailing Morey behind me and get a stick with which to dig a hole and so forth. This takes several trips and I'm pouring sweat but I neutralize the landmine and wave to the woman and the solemn preschoolers and head home.
The next night I leave for the beach with plastic bags billowing from my pockets and a half a roll of bounties under my arm. I get him onto the beach and while no one's around he does his thing right near the wall so I can pick it up. Then we walk way down the other way and sure as um, shit, we're almost off the beach and doesn't he let loose about 15 feet from 4 women having happy hour in their beach chairs. They all look and giggle while I wave my roll of PTs and claim to have the situation under control. They can't keep a straight face and I have to really work to bag the stuff without either of us stepping in it as the dog tries to wind himself around my legs. I drop the now 2 sealed bags of poo into the third bag and wave to them and off I go swinging my bag of poo from one hand to the other just like you do when you walk a dog. So thankful that Suzie and Jim are flying in late tonight.
OMG
Despite a temperature reading that wouldn't find me even leaving the house, a moment of insanity led me to head up to the the beach around 2PM.
It turned out to be biting fly day at the beach and they were relentless.
Not the greenheads. Vampires that they are, they kind of zone out as they go for the chomp and you can actually smack 'em dead. Not so with these smaller flies which kind of look like house flies but aren't.
After about 2 hours (I can't believe I stayed that long) I packed up and headed home to the air conditioners.
Heaven in it's own way.
(I tried to post this on Tuesday when it was fresh but e blogger wasn't having any)
I am revealing my boomer roots when I use old song titles for my posts.
I believe that song was by Martha and the Vandellas. Circa the sixties.
Well, today was a scorcher as they say.
We are only a block from the ocean and it's usually a bit cooler here.
NOT.
97* That's HOT.
I have succumbed, happily I might add, to the New England version of central air conditioning which is multiple window units, and I'm usually quite content to stay inside with my creature comforts but today when I went out to water the plants, there was a definite seabreeze.
I could tell that it was a beach day.
I ran to the market to get the hot meatloaf dinner for the hubby.
No cooking for this girl and I ran home to hit the sand.
I set up my CVS umbrella (of dubious quality) and lounged in a beach chair for the afternoon with a book about Eugene O'Neill and the inception of the Provincetown Players.
My hubby came to visit for about an hour before returning home to the King's chair and cable, while I stayed until 6:30 and then picked it all up and went home.
By the time I made it down the street I was as hot and sweaty as I ever have been and when I walked through the door of my house, heading straight for the shower, I thanked the Good Lord for cheap air conditioners.
Tomorrow, I'm going back.
This is one of my favorite pictures of my niece, Chrissie's dogs.
Doesn't matter if the faces aren't there. The girls are doing their thing.
On the left the late great Kahlua, in the middle the late wonderful Buttercup the Bassett Hound and the butt on the right belongs to the late Cream, the most courageous dog who ever lived and my personal favorite. We lost all of them in a span of 11 months and the trail of tears was deep and wide.
On the horizon though, a new PUPPY.
This post is a salute to the unmatched devotion of dogs.
There is no love like dog love. Amen. 
