33

A new day. A new life continues.

It was the week after the Walnut Festival.  We were taking it easy in southern Kansas, thinking that we might go to a big town just north of us and see what we could see.  There had been some nice people at the festival and we’d like to see the town that they’d come from.

Xena came back from saying goodbye to some new friends she’d made at the festival and put her ukulele away with a sigh.

“Well, we’ll have to go to that festival over in Colorado and play some music.”  She patted the case and sighed again.

“OK,” I replied.  I’d enjoyed myself also.

“There are so many concerts and festivals in this part of the country.  We could stay here for awhile.”  She sighed again.  I knew she was leading up to something. 

“We should Kansas for a little while and then go west before the winter gets here. What do you think?”

I was game.  I’d been painting some sketches of people we’d seen around the festival and was ready to travel again and start some more real paintings.

“How come you haven’t been putting anything on the blog?”  She changed the subject.

I didn’t have anything new I mumbled, not having done much in the last couple of weeks.  What, with playing music and running from those church people I hadn’t had time to begin a new landscape.

“Well here,” she said and gave me the camera, “I helped you with some close ups of  your sketches. You didn't include Rosie and she's very disappointed.”  Rosie barked, she was pink and orange today.

“Go ahead and put them on and then let’s leave and see that sunflower farm outside of town.”  She referred to some farm the neighbors had talked about over the weekend.

OK, so here are the sketches.  Everyone needs to start someplace.