DUSTING

My previous house in Texas was huge and I kept it immaculate. I dusted, vacuumed, and scrubbed several times a week.

Here in the Tennessee wilderness, my house is nearly three times smaller and is a complete mess. Dust, dirt, and cobwebs are ubiquitous and seem to keep reappearing out of nowhere.

Last week I took some interior photos that I planned to use on this blog. When I looked at them closely, thick layers of dust were embarrassingly apparent everywhere. I put down the camera and spent the rest of the afternoon dusting and cleaning the house. 

Fortunately, I have less to dust here than I did in Texas. With far less space, there's not much to clean - - and (possibly??) less clutter. Half of my antiques are packed away. And most of my antique art collection is in storage because there's no room to hang it.

For no discernible reason (except perhaps to show off) I took more photos after cleaning.

 I love colored glass in the sunlight and have a lot of it. A few of these belonged to my mother.

 Some of the frames on my antique paintings are so heavy that I'm hesitant to hang them on the walls. The old gilded frames are hard to keep clean and crumble easily.
This Venice scene is an early work by the Italian artist Enrico Paulucci. 

My cat Scratch is saying "What the hell did Jon buy this for?"

 When I assess my antiques, I often ask
"What the hell did Jon buy this for?"
These charming German mutter und vater figurines were made circa 1850.

 This Japanese vase isn't an antique, but it's one of my favorites. It looks much nicer in real.

Speaking of large paintings (was I?),
this old Austrian plein-air is five feet long and one of my favorites. I have to stand on the sofa to dust it.

More antiques to dust. I love the porcelain shepherd with the dog (left), which is circa 1790 and in surprisingly good shape.

English cup, bowl, and dishes from the 1820's. The little guy on the left is a creamer (I think).

My antique Russian wolfhound, alongside a lithograph of Napoleon from the early 1800s and an original photo of Prince Albert Victor (Victoria's grandson).

Couldn't let this go without showing off my prized antique desk, which is a pain to dust.

 I love this Edison-Mazda poster by Maxfield Parrish. I purchased it in a shop in Hollywood when I was 20 years old. It's presently hanging above my bed - and for a good reason:

When I lived in Texas, I had a very heavy oil painting hanging above my bed. One night it fell down while I was sleeping and landed right on my head! I almost sustained a concussion.

Ever since then, I always hang LIGHT things above my bed. I figure that if I get clobbered with a Parrish poster, it won't kill me.
(that thing below the poster is part of the bed headboard)

Here's another item that's a pain in the ass to dust (it's not an antique).
I never particularly liked it, but somehow I'm reluctant to get rid of it.

When I moved from Texas to Tennessee, the movers "lost" (or stole) a lot of my things and also broke many other things.

Strangely enough, this fragile collection of birds arrived in perfect condition.
Go figure.

I have many more photos, but I'll spare you. Too much of a good thing can be excruciating.....




 

ONLY A DUSTING

Yesterday I frightened and confused you with my poetry. Today I'll enthrall you with a dusting of snow.

Only a dusting. Ernest Shackleton or the Donner Party would have laughed at it. But I enjoyed it - most especially because there was no annoying accumulation. It happened just before dawn.

As soon as is it got light - - fool that I am - - I ventured outside and snapped a few extremely unimpressive photos. Since it was only about ten (10) degrees, my fingers nearly froze in a couple of minutes.....but I was able to leave my signature (first photo).

The temperature has been below freezing all week and usually drops to zero late at night. I feel lethargic and completely unmotivated. Despite the fact that I have many very important things to do, I have been doing nothing.

I crawl into bed and read. I care for the cats (which in itself can sometimes be a never-ending nerve wracking chore). 
Last night, in the throes of insomnia, I watched the 1990 Australian Ballet production of  Coppelia, with Lisa Pavane and Greg Horsman (who, at the time, were married). It was superb and lifted my spirits to dangerously high levels.
Note: this production is available on YouTube (search Australian Ballet, Coppelia).

I'm hoping that sometime soon I will thaw out and resume my mundane, unenviable, miserable, complicated, unconventional life.
I said that with a smidgen of humor, but nobody's laughing.

Photos! Photos, please!

At the crack of dawn, before it was light. I used the (camera) flash.

The trail that leads to my car

(the garage is still too crowded with junk to accommodate any vehicles)

 In the afternoon the temperature soared to 15 degrees (Fahrenheit, for those of you in Pakistan) and the sun appeared.

                                                                                                                                                           

I'll be the first to admit that this is a crappy blog post. 

Have no fear - much more exciting things will be appearing in the future.