Misfits, art distribution

My favorite driver, Henry, brought today's box, cheerful greeting, put it inside the hallway, warned me to be careful picking it up, in full nana mode. I love Henry.

There will be a spinach quiche with mixed cheeses before we know it, ages since I had a quiche. 

And I had a sudden welcome call, neighbor friend planned to take up an invitation this afternoon, so a bit of baking happened, these scone sort of things, cranberries, chickpea flour.

We had a great afternoon, organizing the world to our liking. The main business of the day was for her to select an artwork from my wall, to keep. 

I've been doing this for quite a while, giving my work to friends and neighbors to make it easier for Handsome Son after I die. An artist's work is really an issue after they die, since unlike furniture and dishes, it's so personal that people don't like to toss it or give it to the thriftie. So this is more winnowing. 

I had always said to Handsome Son that he should invite neighbors and friends to come take whatever they like from the house after I die, but it occurred to me that then I'd miss the fun. So I've had a few afternoons like this, friends invited over for the purpose,  and it's such a treat to see what they choose. 

So, pot of tea, scones, chat and choose, and she eventually went home with a nice little ink and wash work named Four Sisters. All good.

And here's a reminder our blogistas don't need, but it's near lambing time

And heres a musician soldier playing in desperate Ukraine, knowing the arts must go on, no matter what

while luckier people get to fantasize about playing music on the balcony, the sound floating down.

Back when we lived in the Yorkshire dales, there was an old neighbor, a couple of miles away, who would come to his open door and play violin to the countryside. You'd occasionally hear him when you were out walking, no audience but the birds.

Happy day, everyone, however you shape your day. Friday knitting group this afternoon.