Fathers

Father's Day is a non-event at my house these days, except in thought. My father has been dead for 16 years, my husband's for 10 years. My daughters telephoned to say Happy Father's Day to my husband even if he isn't their biological father. This makes him feel awkward and anxious to get off the phone, so he hands them over to me as soon as possible. He's not good at dealing with younger people and hasn't had a lot of interaction I guess so that makes him feel uncomfortable around them.

However, my father was a kind man and I was more attuned to him than my mother. Perhaps that is just the way with opposite sexes - mothers and sons; fathers and daughters. Together the sexes clash, opposites seem to have more 'give' to them or maybe they see some of their youth in their children or what they wished their youth was. We never were a demonstrative family in terms of affection. It was an unsaid given that we cared for each other, but words and actions to follow up were not something I ever remember. I did a portrait of my father years ago, shortly before he died - or I started one. I must dig it out and see if I can finish it. It would be a good tribute for Father's Day.

The geese allowed us to get close enough to get some photos of them and the new babies - now about a week old. Angelo, the father goose, struts around shouting and charging at everything that moves within 20 feet of the babies, while the mother goose, Lucy, just lets him get on with it with a resigned look on her face.

The broiler chicks are growing rapidly and in another 6 weeks or so will be ready for processing. I had a photo taken of me holding one of the chicks when it was a day old in my hands in the barn. I used this image as one in the Wet Canvas drawing event this weekend so decided it was about time that I did a drawing with it too. It was done with a Pigma Micron pen .005 nib.

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