Lopez Island trip to de Medici Ming Papers and more....

Well, I'm not the long-winded type but this past Friday, Saturday was special.  There is something about dropping time on a small Island with a bunch of friends that are meandering, sharing and enjoying the slower pace that happens when you leave to your got to's at home.
Our got to's were to meet at an early enough hour that we could meander up Whidbey to Anacortes to catch a ferry to Lopez.  We had two cars almost full and were meeting a couple of walk-ons sketchers at the ferry.  It was raining!!!  Didn't matter!!  Paula said it would stop by the time we got to Lopez!  She was right!!
 Rain

No Rain!

We did the usual stuff checking in to the hotel, wandering around town, getting food from the Taco truck, Bakery, and coffee shop; then off to our appointment which was about 5 miles out of town.
Destination, a BIG yellow container full of art papers, stationary, calendars, cards, trinkets, and INSPIRATION!


We had to take turns poking around to find all the hidden treasures so, the rest of us hung out in the barn.  A barn full of treasures of a different sort; a large pachyderm, a minstrel, found lamps; saved scissors, saws, a collection of jam jars, lots more plus a wood stove to keep us cozy.   We opened the Happy hour supplies, sketchbooks and got to work.  Meanwhile, Terry, Caps husband, serenaded us with his original songs and guitar.  Time stopped!


Outside, the weather went from a drying mist to beautiful sunset and full dark with incredible color in the sky.  I forgot to mention we were surrounded by farms, fields and the goat farm which we visited the next day.  See Billy above.  He is golden in the sunshine, but very unkempt. I forgot to sketch his feet. 8-0!

FARM HARMONY, FROM UNDER AN APPLE TREE

It will be hard to ever beat the time I had yesterday, sitting in the shade of an ancient apple tree, inside an old chicken pen, with ducks and ducklings muttering about in the grass behind me, a group of chatty hens scratching around next to me, a robust rooster serenading his biddies across the drive, a flittering flock of swallows swooping and swirling overhead and through an open window, and mama goat mewling to her trio of four day old babies in the pen behind the barn. Down the yard apiece - meat goats (unaware of their fate) and pigs (also unaware).  And at the farmhouse, on the porch, a comfy old hound snoring in his bed, and, inside, an escape cat, plotting. 
The peacefulness, the bright blue sky, the soft breeze rustling the leaves and grasses around me - all of it influenced my palette, I am sure. But I am reminded, once again (as I have been hundreds of times in my 70 years), that I could never be a farmer. I could never work that hard to achieve all that peaceful harmony. And, I could never, as Annie the Farm Kid does, name my food.

Sky Root Farm in Clinton on Whidbey Island