(Click on it twice to see this larger.)
For a view of the Teaparty folks in childhood, please see the comic Li’l Patriots.
Valerie
Tag: Pen&Ink
Summer Sun
I appreciate our glowing orb as much as the next person. However, given this long dry spell and 100-degree temperatures, I think it’s time for Helios to take a little holiday.
Nevertheless, here is a tribute for the first of August.
Great is the sun, and wide he goes Through empty heaven with repose; And in the blue and glowing days More thick than rain he showers his rays. Though closer still the blinds we pull To keep the shady parlour cool, Yet he will find a chink or two To slip his golden fingers through. The dusty attic spider-clad He, through the keyhole, maketh glad; And through the broken edge of tiles Into the laddered hay-loft smiles. Meantime his golden face around He bares to all the garden ground, And sheds a warm and glittering look Among the ivy’s inmost nook. Above the hills, along the blue, Round the bright air with footing true, To please the child, to paint the rose, The gardener of the World, he goes.—Robert Louis Stevenson
Francine
Beach Memory
A sketch of the beach in Gloucester, Massachusetts, where we were at this time last year. But we knew back in January when we replaced our ancient furnace that there would be no summer travel for us this year. So, instead we attempt to go swimming every single day, before breakfast, or before dinner. Or sometimes both! That’s two vacations per day.
To see the dangers you risk when you return from an actual trip out of town, please see Bananas.
Bob
Eat Your Peas
Today is the birthday of Gregor Mendel (1822-1884), whose study of the humble pea led him to deduce the existence of what he called dominant and recessive traits, thereby perplexing and confusing his fellow scientists with a concept we all take for granted today. For his story, and pictures, please see Peas of Mind.
À la recherche du temps perdu
Today is the birthday of Marcel Proust (1871-1922), and so I post this sketch, in remembrance of things past (his and mine).
This image is available as a high-resolution print on 8.5″ x 11″ archival paper.
Birthday Pie
Of the pies my mother made, our favorite was apple, but she could also make a terrific and unequalled lemon meringue pie: tart, deeply lemony, with high white peaks. On her own birthday, of course, she could sit down to pies made by others. This sketch is from a birthday lunch at which she decided to go for the Key Lime. Alas, her illusions were dispelled: it was too sweet. Someone else finished it and she was obliged to make do with the profiterolles. Happy birthday, Mom. In a perfect Heaven, the clouds are fluffy edible meringue.
Mom
Palisades Parade
An event we enjoy just as much as the Fourth of July fireworks is the Palisades neighborhood parade, which begins with a rousing group of bagpipers and concludes with cowboys on horseback (an arrangement cleverly designed to keep manure off the marchers’ feet).
In between are families riding their decorated bicycles; dressed-up trucks from the local firehouse, plumber and grocer; a group of fabulously energetic Peruvian dancers; local politicians distributing flyers, jewelry, and candy; the GLBT Different Drummers, with their Big Band/Swing sound and exuberant drum major; vintage cars driven by their vintage owners; home-grown George and Martha, Uncle Sams and Statues of Liberty; a huge float bearing summer campers belting out Broadway show tunes; patriotically attired dogs; and a crowned and smiling Miss Millwood, the currently favored teen queen of Millwood Place.
We wave, we cheer and clap for everybody, we go home feeling a love of country and a connection to all humanity.
Melinda
Obscure Bible Tales
For Sunday, this holiday weekend.
Parish Picnic
Every year in early June our church holds Sunday service outdoors, with plenty of singing and clapping, followed by face-painting, balloon sculptures, moon-bounce, and frisbee, accompanied by a vast spread of grilled hot dogs, potato salad, watermelon, and brownies. That’s my kind of Sunday worship. During the homily, as I sketched the father and daughter in front of us, the priest spoke about father/daughter relationships (next week being Fathers Day), and the pair exchanged an affectionate nudge.
Mitch
June
It is the month of June,
The month of leaves and roses,
When pleasant sights salute the eyes,
And pleasant scents the noses.
—Nathaniel Parker Willis
Jan