Having done my dutiful daughter act, it was on to Film Farm on the 25th March. We put the final images into the Northampton film and generally charged batteries (animal, vegetable and mineral). The following morning it was the long 6 hour slog to Mumbles, calling in on some friends near Cardiff for a restorative cuppa and a look at their super new Brangwyn painting. Friday morning I had a run along the front (unfortunately not the beach itself because the tide was up) and then met Charles for a leisurely breakfast before setting off for Carmarthen and Gareth. The stained glass panel is coming along superbly - see detail of delicious apple and foliage and Gareth with his kiln. Four hours solid filming, most of it hand held so poor Charles was suffering by the end, and, having eschewed lunch was in a pretty dismal state by the time we returned to Mumbles. However a Dick Barton special (see entry 23 September 2008) did much to restore the parts others etc (I didn't think the fish and chips were up to much this time actually, but then I'm not an F&C connoisseur). See below one happy bunny - almost in focus!
Saturday back to Film Farm. As we drove up the drive we noted scattered white feathers. Fearing the worst we leapt out and followed the trail - and a long trail it was too, round the copse, across the drive, past the terrace, over to the long pond, another pile of plucked and bloodied feathers by the vegetable garden - and a dead hen neatly deposited in the small pond. The second hen was not discovered - probably carried away by the marauding animal - we reckon a dog because the hunter was obviously playing with his prey.A restorative drink was required to recover from the shock.
The following few days were spent putting together the Tiffany film and I managed to squirrel away some time for letterpressing. At the end of each film we have a grand finale - Miscellany performing their Ella meets the nuns choral activity accompanying a visual extravaganza of the particular window. However the stringent contractual obligations of the American galleries who own the 2 completed Tiffany panels preclude their use in such a format and the only images available are black and white sketches from ancient tomes - not hugely exciting. BUT, on my return journey yesterday I hatched a cunning plan. Let's just hope it's successful.
Staggering downstairs to make himself a cup of tea on Wednesday morning Charles discovered the black hole of Calcutta re-enacted in a smoke filled kitchen - the Aga was spouting noxious stuff like there was no tomorrow and no shortage of oil. The cats weren't too happy either. Every surface was covered with a greasy black grime and the cobwebs looked decidedly the worse for wear (not that there are any in such a pristine kitchen of course).
It seemed best to escape to Kent and leave him to it!
And then today another sadness - the little black hen, Dot, who was terrorised by Gin and Tonic (better known as the Hooligans) died this morning, a few days after her tormentors from whose battering she never really recovered.
We've both got a week of catching up with mail and jobs before a Piper foray starting next Wednesday - it's all go!
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