A cold front arrived last night, ushering in yet another round of storms. While I was glad to be rid of the headache that preceded the front, I was less thrilled at the smell of dirty gym socks that came in with the rain. Whatever happened to the idea that the world smelled good after a "cleansing rain." When do we get one of those? It's a trade off, living in such a pretty place. In person, it doesn't smell as good as it looks. I've heard some people blame the paper mill, and some blame the pluff mud. But honestly, I can't say for certain the odor that offended me each time I let the dogs out today was from any farther away than the swamp that is swallowing all the trees and bushes along my fence. I never left the house today to find out.
I spent a little time cleaning house, clearing out a few lingering food smells, and putting in a new heated oil cartridge that is supposed to smell like "Tuscan herbs." The jury is still out whether it's an improvement over yesterday's stew or the funk that rolled in with the rain.
The paints came out again today. I am keeping this one to myself until I decide it is finished. No work-in-progress photos. I have to go through a few stages yet, where I absolutely love it, and where I am embarrassed that it came from me. And then at the end, hopefully I will be at peace with it and be able to share it. As a substitute, I will offer a peek at the face who kept stealing my seat every time I stood up to walk around and take a break from painting. She's cute, but she really is a little stinker.
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