January  11,  2004

        There's nothing more humbling than standing beside a masterpiece in the art gallery.

      This visit, i discovered why my daughter loves Lawren Harris (Group of Seven member) so much.  It's the light that he managed to capture in his work.  Stunning.  Unfortunately, what we see on the internet does not come close to the reality of the work, but i was gazing in wonder at these:

http://www.groupofsevenart.com/Harris/Harris_Lake_and_Mountains.htm

http://www.groupofsevenart.com/Harris/Harris_Beaver_Swamp_110.htm

      i haven't been able to locate the third piece, and don't recall the title, so i'll have to take a trip back again.  But the light that this man managed to express is just phenomenal.  It makes me embarrassed by my 'banana hand', but also shows me what i need to work toward. 

      That's one thing that i've gained from Himself and this life:  in my past i'd have put the paint brush down and not continued trying.  i was easily intimidated by those "better than me" and would simply not try to compete.  Now, not only have i discovered there's no competing to be done, and that i should just do my best and be happy with that, i've also learned that the challenge to achieve can be a lot of fun.  It doesn't have to be anxiety-ridden. 

      Good thing to discover.

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      Kitty alert.  Isn't there some way to teach the cats when it is Saturday and Sunday, and my only sleep-in days?

      Today they started at about 5:30 a.m. ..... crawling onto the foot of the bed and then slowly, inch by inch, working their way up our bodies.  Sigh.  Actually, it's usually Maddy that starts the process; Molly still wisely understands that remaining at the foot of the bed increases her chances of staying on at all.  

      Once Maddy has been turfed (aka been taught how to fly) off the bed a few times, she goes to her plan B, which is to terrorize me from between the small space beside the top of the bed and the night-table.  Exactly where my head is.  Kitty claws extended, she claws at the mattress and inches closer and closer to my face.  i wake up, much time is spent picking her claws out of the sheets and hissing "get lost!"  (me hissing, not the cat) until one of two things happen.  She gets ticked and leaves, or i resign and let her sit on my head.  Sigh.

      Himself woke up to this today - well briefly anyway.  It's amazing how quickly that man can move in a sleepy zombie state.  Within about 2.5 seconds He'd scooped up the crop that lives beside his side of the bed, and wham!  He was flailing it about in that tiny space where the cat was.  She of course, wisely left at that point - i think i would have too if i'd seen some large wild black man coming at me brandishing a weapon, not wearing His glasses, and had His eyes closed anyway.  But she didn't leave without getting the last word - we could hear her little paws against the floor and her "last-word" indignant half mewl, half grumble.  

      i was duly impressed by both.  "She's pissed;" i commented, and then we both snuggled under the blankets again and went back to sleep.

      me, with visions of crops in my head.  Him snoring.  Sigh.