September

Maybe I could be a summer person in Maine, Nova Scotia or old Scotia. In Philadelphia summer humidity frizzes my hair and melts my brain.  Already a few leaves on a few trees are turning yellow and some have begun to fall. Soon I will pull up my socks, don my sweater and fly right. 

Here I am (second from the right) in an early recital in my dance teacher's back garden. My teacher and her husband, a fine musician who played in the Philadelphia Orchestra, lived next door. Though my dance career was shorter than I was in my little blue cotton leotard, the experience of their music and art-filled home and the fascinating creative people who came there were an early inspiration.

Here's a new collection of  I Can Read stories from HarperCollins. This one includes THE BIG BALLOON RACE that I illustrated and Eleanor Coerr wrote.

This wonderful story was nearly rejected before being rescued by the young assistant assigned to write the "we regret" letter. 

Late Friday afternoon she read the manuscript again before typing the letter and suggested my art work.

The Editor said if I'd illustrate it, they would do it and the rest is history...........  There has been a first edition hardcover in 3 colors, a new full color hardcover edition, paperback, paperback with a cassette, and now this new collection and it was  a PBS Reading Rainbow selection. The "war stories" behind books can be almost as good as the book itself.

In June I planted 2 pots of Basil and a pot of what I thought were some old lettuce seeds and put them in

my north window.

Now I have 2 pots of fresh Basil and

this lovely pink flower..what ever it is.

Its a POPPY! ( thought it might be)

Friend Deborah says, possibly a Mountain or Icelandic

Poppy. Seed must have stowed away in

a packet of something else in my small sill seeds

stash. A delightful surprise.

Fred demands his 15 minutes

No sooner did I begin this blog, hoping to jump start my brain a little in the midst of an assignment famine than suddenly deadlines were back. 

Meanwhile, Fred  has been  tapping his paw. I mean....... Tizzy has HIS blog post! Where's mine?

Usually Fred is interested in sticking to a tight schedule (his), running into the outside hall when I open the 

apartment door and treats. He is polite, tapping me on the shoulder in the wee hours of the morning, for a belly rub.

When I'm working, he pops up over the top of my vertical drawing board. All I see is his head and front paws. It's  Freddie my hand puppet! 

I've still got work to finish and a speaking engagement tonight featuring my book, REDOUTE, The Man Who Painted Flowers, but I can take the pressure just so long.

How's that Freddie?