SO... the other day, when I finally could get out of the house, (you know- in that brief dry interlude between storms?), I went to visit my dad. He was in his clinic just finishing surgery on a cat. I yelled out, "Hey Pa!" as I stepped in the door so as not to add the stress of the thought of an unexpected client to his concentration. He grumbled. As I approached the operating room his back turned to me. He was cleaning up at the sink. "I see from your blog you've been in bed all week", he said. I took in his snow pants, recalled the clean paths carved up the hill that I just wandered...and the puritan productive German ancestry in me rose up. "Oh no!", I wanted to protest. But the visual evidence was already posted.
So this painting is for my dad. He is going to turn 75 in a few weeks. He shovels and plows his place, my sister's place and the barn yard... just have access to hay, to feed her cats, keep us safe off the road, and keep his pet owner's safely on their feet. He does enough shoveling for all of us. Literally!
Dad- I painted this at about 6am... exhausting day! I love you.
5 x 4 x 2 inches stretched canvas with acrylic paint.
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