Drawing a Figure With No Teeth

I dropped Husband off at the airport at 4:45 yesterday morning and then came back home to do a few projects before handing myself over to the dentist at 8:30.  One of my molars on the bottom left side has periodically swelled, gotten sore, then returned to normal size.  After examining it, he said the tooth was cracked, the roots were sheared off the back and it needed to come out to protect the remaining bone. 

Well, crap.  I don't mind the procedure although I hate like crazy how much it is going to cost to get an implant.  What really bothers me is just the whole stigma of losing a tooth (like I am a hillbilly!) coupled with the notion that perhaps I am wearing out. 

Happily, my dentist swears my jaw bone is very healthy and dense and should be fine.  The front roots were curved in like j's and it took him awhile to drill 'em out.  The bone around the back roots was gone.  Don't want that happening to the rest of my jaw, for sure.   Sore mouth, afterwards, but the crater isn't bothering me nearly as much as I expected.  I hope by tomorrow that I won't be looking for that next painkiller.

So I went to art class this morning and we did a figure drawing.  This is the model:

He looks like he is wearing a skirt.  Fruity dang art class (sorry Windy).  I tell myself it is a Highlander! 

This is my rendition:

It isn't very good but we didn't have much time so it is what it is.  I just threw in the shadow and background and the skirt was pretty much an afterthought, too.  I think if I were to do it, again, I'd do better.  At one point, the professor came by and told me the man's nipples were too high and I needed to move them about two inches lower.  I started to tell him this was MY hero male body but thought better of it.  The thing is in a skirt and has no head or arms for the love of god, and I am pretty sure there isn't much under the skirt, either.  I am not sure why I would consider arguing against drawing man boobs on it.  I guess I just like it because it is also shy a few teeth and we have something in common.  But I moved the dang nipples.

I don't think I will get a good grade on it, or that I deserve one.  The skirt looks too flouncy.  I would have stayed longer to work on it but with Husband out of town, I needed to get back home and let the girls out.

I was going to go write about the "shelter in place" drill we did (which took up a lot of our drawing time), but Husband's plane is now flying inside of Oklahoma and should be at the airport by the time I round of the girls and drive over there. 

G'night.

Happy Quilting, Penny, Evelyn and Pearl

A Samoyed Rescue Post

Husband and I did some yardwork in preparation for winter, today.  I clipped back an evergreen from the eaves of the house - don't like the fire hazard, especially in the dry winter months.

After:

We'll likely yank the whole thing out come spring but I didn't want a bare corner over the next 4 - 5 months.

While we worked in the yard, Pearl hunted bunnies:

She never catches any, those longlegged sons of b*tches.

I also snapped a few shots of ladybugs:

The rest of today's post is not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach.  Seriously, skip the rest of this if that describes you.

I am a member of a Samoyed owners group and several members foster rescued Samoyeds  (One also fosters Collies).  I can't imagine some of the things these dogs have gone through and it boggles my mind that anyone could mistreat or neglect a Samoyed.  I have a hard time imagining anyone hurting or neglecting any dog but Samoyeds are just so beautiful and puppy like and magical that I simply can't conceive of it even though I know it happens. 

First of all, if you read my posts, regularly, you've seen my happy, sweet girls Evelyn and Pearl.  Here's Evelyn:

Seriously, I hope you look at these happy girls for just a second before I discuss Glory, a Samoyed that came into rescue, this spring.  Evelyn:

 Pearl:

 Pearl at sunrise:

 Evelyn:

 Pearl and Evelyn:

Pearl:

They don't take a lot of care, especially considering how beautiful they are.  I rarely bathe them and brushing them keeps them clean and pretty, most of the time.  Samoyeds are family dogs and are going to be miserable if you leave them outside.  They want to be near their family but love everyone.  Don't get a Samoyed if you don't want a hairy child who wants to be with you even if you are in the bathroom.  Pearl is 55 pounds and still crawls up in my lap - and stays there.  Evelyn has a fit if she can't see me or I am on the "wrong" side of the fence.  Not unusual for Samoyeds.

In contrast, here are some photos of Glory, a rescue dog who came into care last spring.  Brace yourself, they are awful:

 

Yes, the poor darling is a Samoyed.  Just like my girls. 

Glory smelled to high heaven from the yeast covering her body and only weighed 28 pounds (my girls weigh about 50 - 55).  In these first pictures, she is just about Evelyn's age.  She'd been taken to the doctor but the owners wouldn't pay for any bloodwork to find out what was going on.  They just wanted her to be put down.  The vet talked them into surrendering her to the rescue, instead.  Bless the vet, she did all the legwork on that end.  

Glory went to live with foster mama, Bev (the lady in green in the above photo).  According to Bev, even though Glory was so frail and in a strange place, she wagged her sad little rat tail all the way home. 
 
Over the past 6 - 7 months, Bev has been caring for Glory.  What a miracle worker.   She's helped socialize her (Glory can be a bit nasty to other dogs) and made sure she received appropriate medical care.  Glory had a bad bacterial infection of the skin and had to be frequently bathed with special medicated soap.  She also was placed on (and remains on) prednisone.  One member of our group stitched up some coats for Glory.  As you might imagine, her health care expenses have been steep.
 
When she first came to stay with Bev, she had some surgery and had to wear the cone of shame for a few weeks - she just looks pitiful:

Of course, no dog looks good in the cone but there is no excuse for this:

That's Glory, above.  Compare to Pearl:

It makes me sick.  It makes me mad.

 

Over time, her hair gradually began growing back in - but she was still sooooo skinny!:

 

Month by month, she continued to get better and started to show some spark: 

See that look?  That's trouble!

Starting to see some confidence - how do you like that sassy purple collar?:

Look how much better she looks - starting to look and play like a Samoyed:

What a difference in hair and size:

She just looks happy - and her weight is up to 40 pounds:

Even her tail hair is coming back!

Look at that face and that Sammy smile!

Don't you love a happy ending?

Thanks, Bev.

Happy Quilting, Penny, Evelyn and Pearl

An Eccentric Wind

My son recently expressed surprise that the change in daylight savings would significantly trip me up ("It is only an hour!") but it has.  I had to laugh, to myself, when he said that.  For someone who gets up at about 5:30 (pre-change), abruptly changing to waking up at what "feels" like 4:30 strains my energy level, come mid afternoon.  So I take a quick nap (at 2:30 - post change) that turns into a two hour snore and then the dogs are hollering that they want to sit on the patio and no sooner do we sit on the patio when they decide they are dying of hunger and Husband insists it is too early and they aren't "really" hungry (as if they can read the clock and control their appetite, accordingly).  So I miss the news and sit outside with a glass of wine in the dark while they become increasingly frantic and start looking for bunnies to kill to supplement their diet. (they never catch any).   It is 6:30 but feels like 8:30 or 9:00 because the sun is long set and because the days are shortening so fast.   Finally, the dogs get fed at the "proper time" (per Husband) but what feels like the dead of night to the girls and me.  Then we have to go back outside and sit on the patio (to keep from breaking Evelyn's heart).   And it is dark.  Just like it was in the morning when I sat on the patio in the dark.  And because I've taken a nap, I get my second wind at about 8:00 p.m. and end up staying up reading until after midnight (pre-change).  Only to be up in about three hours and it starts, again. 

I go through this every year.  Usually, I can tell you what time it is within about ten minutes.  But for a few days/weeks after the time change, it is like spinning and losing my sense of direction only it is losing my sense of time. 

One hour.  Hah!

This morning, I woke up at 4:45 and valiantly tried to lay there and go back to sleep.  Then I read my Iphone in the dark.  I stretched my toes and reminded myself that I need some polish remover.  How does anyone ever run out of polish remover?  I decided my toes felt a bit like claws, especially my left little toe.  I wondered if it was actually possible to tear the sheet with a toe nail.  I considered how long it would take to grow a toe nail that long.  I thought about dragons with their talons and tried to decide what color dragon I would want to be if I were a dragon.   I considered growing a beard since I've already lost my waistline, anyway, and it might be a good look for me.  I wondered if Husband would leave me if I grew a beard.  I considered God's great wisdom in robbing old people of their eyesight just in time to avoid Husbands being overly traumatized by the fading looks of their wives.  I wondered what it must be like to be a man who married a woman but who now wakes up to someone who looks a bit manly.   I tried not to think about that, too much because, frankly, it's weird.  Then I thought about man boobs and decided to just get over myself and suck it up.

I thought about my art class and how the professor was so mad because quite a few of his Drawing II students weren't doing their work and what work they were doing was sloppy, but they had outstanding signatures (some with two colors!) that aggravated him.  I thought about my new grandson, due in February, and wondered if he would play soccer.  And then I wondered where he would play soccer in the city.  And then I worried that he would get a head injury from heading the ball because I read that was common.  And  then I decided I hoped he would consider tee ball, instead.  And then I wondered if they had tee-ball teams in Manhattan and if they would be able to get home in time to take him to practice.  And then I thought about cute little boy shin pads and wondered what his team would be called and if I would be able to go watch him play.  Then I got depressed because I am here and he is there.  And then I thought about moving to Manhattan but decided that wasn't practical.   I wondered if my son and his wife might possibly move to Chicago and have a driveway.  Or Omaha.  I decided that the next time I saw a shooting star, that would be my wish.  Or perhaps Trinidad, Colorado because I would really like to visit there.  I finally got up and went outside, telling myself that with the change in weather on the way, it would be good to let the girls go out ahead of the rain.  But that was just an excuse to continue with this warped time schedule and get away from my idle brain. 

The air, outside, was utterly still.  The clouds had rolled in and were dark and heavy, with orange and yellow bright on the horizon from the city lights (the photo at the top of the blog is from a few days ago and much more cheery, light and bright).  It looked like the scene in Gone With the Wind when Atlanta was burning.  Evelyn lay out on the patio but Pearl was pressed up next to me while I tried to download an Iphone app on constellations.  About that time, I heard what sounded like the roar of a heavy rain but it wasn't raining.  I could hear what sounded like the wind picking up from the north and watched Evelyn simply lounge on the patio, showing no concern.  No raindrops.  No wind. 

I was perplexed at the heavy rainfall sound - by that time, it sounded like a roar combined with something hitting metal.  It was loud.   I stood up and looked over at the horizon and saw what at first looked to be black birds swooping across the sky, tons of them.  In a few moments, I realized it wasn't birds.  An odd wind had hit the neighbor's tall cottonwood tree and was brutally stripping off its large leaves from near the top.  The roaring had been the sound of the leaves being torn off and rattling against each other as they sorted themselves out like racehorses at the starting gate.  The air remained still at patio level but an eccentric wind carried the leaves above roof level at my house and smacked them against the metal barn (roughly the length of a football field, distant).  It was pretty cool.  I put Pearl inside the house because she thought that was just too freaky but Evelyn and I stood outside and gloried in it until it ended. 

Three hours later, the rain finally arrived.  Evelyn never batted an eyelash at rain in Virginia but in Oklahoma, after next to no rain since June, she isn't sure what that sound is and looked wary.  Pearl hid under Husband's desk.   She's a fraidy cat from way back.  In short order, the rain stopped but it should be here off and on, all day.  The  temperature is going to plunge and the autumn leaves that just got pretty are going to be toast. 

Off to check the rain gauge and the gopher traps.   Yes, we have gophers. 

Happy Quilting, Penny, Evelyn and Pearl