The Artist's Eye

By ArtistAnnie

Moved In

My good friend Ken helped me move into my part of the shared studio I've joined at Bay Street Village. I don't think he realized what he was getting himself into when he offered to help. It was a very big job. He came over to my "lake house" with his large van and we put all the big furniture pieces in there along with quite a few of the paintings. I packed my car full of paintings as well and we trundled down to the studio to unpack. The studio is up a couple of flights of stairs and there are no elevators. So the two of us ran up and down stairs carrying stuff up and going down for more. Ken enlisted a young fellow who helped him bring up the really big stuff. And I helped him with the shelving unit I use to store my finished paintings. After we had emptied both vehicles I took Ken out to lunch as a very small thank you for all the work he put in.

After lunch I went back up to the house and gathered the last of the stuff that didn't fit in the first load. I am now mostly settled and only have a few things still at the house to decide what to do with. I just checked my fitbit and find I've walked over 17000 steps today. Yikes! But it was worth it.

At six pm we had a studio meeting. There were only four of us there but we managed to do a bit of business. I have volunteered to be treasurer but won't be taking over the job until next month. I'm giving myself a bit more time to enjoy the new house and studio space before I start any volunteer tasks. I've worked hard and I deserve a break.

And if he were still alive it would be my father's 110th birthday today. Whenever I see this date I think of my dad. I still miss him after all these years. He passed away in 1991 on September 7th, just missing his 84th birthday. I have so many great memories of times with him. He had a great sense of humor and endless curiosity that was catching when we were with him. He taught us about concretions, and water oozels, and he played many a thinking game with us at the dinner table. Also when we ate the old fashion style donut, he always had us catch the hole when we bit through the ring. We would give them to him to save so that we could make a post hole. I miss him. In a good way, with happy memories.

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