I keep making marks on my furniture. I haven’t got much and what I have, though not expensive or particularly marvellous, I am fond of, if only for their aesthetic and utility. The first is my table. You got this in Bath, he said the other morning, I remember you getting it. And the second recipient of a stain is the red tool cabinet in my studio. Mostly they are water marks. The tool cabinet is where I rest my tea pot. I woke from a dream thinking that T Cut polish might do it. Alas, my table is not so fortunate. Most of the varnish has now gone with all the scrubbing I’ve done of it over the years. Much has been eaten and made on that table (the whole of my East End show, at least). I need to learn to accept the marrings, they show experience, I suppose.
My current JA book talks of stoicism, namely that of Anne Elliot but also Austen herself. All that making the best of things, of acceptance, fortitude and silent endurance but with resource. I have much to learn.
Oh, yes. I did draw yesterday, him mostly and they were appalling. He read out crossword clues and I drew. I know his face too well to make a good sketch of it. He is patient. Stop being self-indulgent, he says, just keep doing it and you will improve. Heidi was a better candidate, though she never keeps still. I drew her, when I could, when he’d gone, watching her catch flies and yes, eat them. This is her replete with tinkling collar bell. What a sweetheart, though painfully shy.
