It's Halloween.

I pretty much sifted through all the good candy (gummy mummies, kit-kats, reese's pieces and whoppers) all week so whoever comes 'round tonight gets stuck with the B-list. I try. I really do.

At this point it's safe to say I'm blogging to make myself accountable. Feel free to tune in or out.
Here were my slack-off Sunday plans:
Walk
Yoga
Movie
Paint
Here's what I really did:
Scrubbed kitchen floor.
Scrubbed den floor.
Scrubbed most of the dining room floor.
Rearranged dining room in effort to make it into my winter studio  as opposed to the previously discussed living room studio. (The dining room gets MUCH better light than the living room, plus once I rip the wallpaper down, I will paint the walls walls. Oddly enough, ripping out wallpaper does rank as a priority on my todo list.)
Moved dining room furniture back in place.
Rearranged furniture in spare bedroom to accommodate one piece of unwanted dining room furniture and 3 chairs.
Moved easel from living room to dining room.
Moved Bazille chair from living room to dining room.
Tried to identify what I believe to be a 60 hz hum coming from center of house and attic. It's ever present, but I only notice it occasionally. I was obsessed with it today.
Brought oil paints inside.
Repainted old wooden bench thing where I keep my mobile paint bins.
Listed vintage camera gear on eBay.
Decided I am not the arts and crafts type after all and ditched Plan B for the time being.
I'm a tad freaked out at my need to scrub floors so frequently. It's not at all like me, but with rototiller dog, I don't have much of a choice.

I'm so thrilled with my new easel. Might I remind everyone I never used an easel until about 4 years ago. I've never painted an oil painting sitting in a chair either. How or why I've become so genteel in the studio is a mystery, but as seen here in two more paintings from The Birth of Impressionism Show at The Frist Center, those gents weren't pacing around slinging paint all willy nilly. And since I am in the process of reincarnating myself into a 19th c. painter, I, too, will sit at my easel this fall and winter. A gray wall. That's what I'll paint the studio wall.

A Studio in Batignolles Quarter by Henri Fantin-Latour. 1870.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir. Frédéric Bazille at His Easel. 1867

Dead Fowl. Will NOT be bringing dead fowl into the house, but I'm sure I can find a substitute around here. Dead plants, dead bugs. dead leaves, gimp furniture.