ON OUR walk around Langsett Reservoir on Monday we took a break at the ruined farm marked on the map as North America. Remote farms and fields were sometimes named after remote locations. Red Grouse were calling on the moor, joining each other on some crest amongst the heather and bilberry before hurtling off elsewhere.
Several flocks of thrushes, fieldfares we think, flew over, all heading west, up the valley of the Little Don.
These days we can’t get my mum to such isolated spots but at least Charlotte’s Ice Cream Parlour, where we headed for coffee and scones, overlooks a broad curve of the Calder Valley, the tops of the Pennines dissolving into the mist in the background. Not the ideal subject for pen and ink but I don’t pack my watercolours in my ‘urban’ art bag.
In this bag for errands around town I keep a variety of pen, most of which, I now realise, need refilling. As my favourite Lamy Safari needs refill I started drawing Tilly at the bookshop in ArtPen but then, when the ink ran out, switched to Pentel BrushPen.
Oh, Richard, this so had me laughing. There is an old joke about a Texan who is bragging about the size of his ranch. He says *I can get into my truck and drive all day and all night and still not leave my property.* And his listener says *Yes, I used to have a truck like that too.*
I have a packet of specialized pens just like yours, that all need refilling. Just when we think we are completely prepared…
I am still here and loving my new small studio apartment, but there is more unpacking to be done and somehow an awful lot of things have climbed into the space I had intended to keep clear for instant artwork.
Sending hugs to you and Barbara and your mum. Rachel
I’m going to have to have a filling up session . . . and I’m down to my last Lamy Safari cartridge!
I’m sure you’ll get there soon with the unpacking. You did an awful lot of downsizing before the move.