April 12, 2008
Walked almost to the end of the road this morning. Could have made it but wanted to have a decent stretch for tomorrow. Two days ago I had on a sweatshirt, jacket and Babushka hat, but now it's warm and no jacket nor hat is needed. So much for Spring. The dogs like the walking better than the bike riding because they get to smell more stuff and mark it with urine.

Robert Chenal is home from Iraq and he's coming by this afternoon to visit. Anxious to see him.

Kathy helped me get untracked for the cover painting that's due on the 20th. Needed to blow up the rough proportionately, and needed her math skills to make it come out right (I somehow misplaced my proportion wheel in my studio pit). Got a good pencil down and I need to lay in a light wash tomorrow and then attack the main figures.

Just had a flower delivery, a pretty bouquet delivered from Colleen and the Dude Ranchers Association. Very sweet. We also received a huge gift basket from Larry Siegel at Barnes & Noble and another gift basket from Faith at Big Bronco.

My neighbor Tom Augherton dropped by last night and told me I need to do a comic strip in the Republic. Ironically, Betty Radina called this morning and suggested the same thing. Not sure what that means.

My therapist suggested I read "The Death of Ivan Ilych" by Leo Tolstoy. Kathy actually had it in her library, so I started reading it this morning:

"The expression on the face [of the dead Ivan] said that what was necessary had been accomplished, and accomplished rightly. Besides this there was in that expression a reproach and a warning to the living. This warning seemed to Peter Ifvanovich out of place, or at least not applicable to him. He felt a certain discomfort and so he hurriedly crossed himself once more and turned and went out of the door—too hurriedly and too regardless of propriety, as he himself was aware."

Pretty dense prose, but he's a straight talking little Rushkie. Gee, I wonder if the Apaches have anything to say about this?

"You must speak straight so that your words may go as sunlight to our hearts."
—Cochise