So, contrary to what the lack of activity on my blog might indicate…I’ve actually been quite busy lately.

Quite.

Also there’s been the small matter of my 2012 Calendar to finish up. It’s printing right now! As we speak! You can pre-order here. They’re available in limited quantities, and they make excellent stocking stuffers if I do say so myself.

For cats!

Also, a reminder that I am still taking orders for holiday Gift Certificates! Email me at rachael@rachaelrossman.com.

The other day I launched a Kickstarter project to paint a series of Dia de los Muertos portraits. There’s a linky-thing over on the right side of this blog; you can become a patron of the arts for as little as a buck! (Which gets you a digital download of the entire collection AND a Jenny The Bloggess Day of the Dead cutout mask just in time for Halloween.)

To get in the mood, I’ve been planning and painting Dia de los Muertos portraits of friends, family and other people who inspire me. More on that, later…but what I’m getting at is that I’ve ALSO been working on all the paintings that folks have already ordered, so don’t worry, the production line is still humming right along!

Here are some mini-portraits painted over the weekend.

P.S. I’m taking a break from the mini portraits for awhile. I’m out of scraps.

P.P.S. Now’s the time to order paintings to get them in time for Christmas!

When I was on vacation last week…(wait, I was on VACATION last week? Where has the time gone?) …I spent a great deal of time consuming caffeinated beverages and painting. I finished 13 paintings in fact. Mainly because in my studio, in front of the fan was the only place I could tolerate the insane heat. (In Oregon, 90 degrees  is the insane threshold, in case you’re keeping track.)

I paint on Yupo paper, exclusively. The most convenient way for me to buy it – and store it – is in pads of 11×14″ sheets. So, for each sheet I can get (1) 8×10″, (1) 5×7″ and a little scrap of 4×5″ paper. Up until now, all those 4×5″ scraps have gone into a heap in one of my drawers.

A few weeks ago, I was on a cleaning spree and decided to put my Yupo scraps to good use. Hence, the mini-portrait was born. In limited quantities.

Here are the first few.

I love my house, and I hate my house. Do you know what I mean? It’s a 1950s ranch that we bought nine years ago and moved in on Christmas Eve. I bought it because it had a wood ceiling, a funky old oven and it reminded me of my grandparents.

We replaced every window. We replaced the furnace. We replaced the roof. We painted it. We built a fence. We cut down a giant redwood whose giant, rain-soaked limbs were perched precariously over the living room.

And then, we had another baby.

And then, I went back to work.

And then, we ran out of money.

And then, and then, and then….

So here we are, eight years later and hardly any closer to the myriad improvements that I’d envisioned when we first became homeowners. The last three years have been..um, let’s say dicey…and haven’t really been conducive to expensive home repairs and cosmetic improvements.

However.

I daresay the pendulum has begun to swing the other way. As the car payments and random loans start dropping away I am once again plotting and planning things like tiling all the floors that aren’t hardwood, replacing 1970s paneling with actual walls, replacing cabinet hardware and oh my gosh, PAINTING every square inch of that darn house.

And I want terra cotta-colored tile just like this:

This cat is going to be in my calendar. And someday, those tiles will be in my house.

Summertime for the Rossmans is jam-packed. The kids spend a lot of time with both sets of grandparents, as well as their cousins from Arizona who spend a few weeks in temperate Oregon every July. Meanwhile, Dr. Rossman and I go about our work weeks, visit the kids at their grandparents’ on the weekends and try to figure out what to do with all our TIME in the evenings without the kids here.

It’s wicked boring.

This weekend was one of those complicated  affairs with both of us driving from different locations and meeting up at my parents’ house for the weekend to see the kids and hopefully tide them over with hugs for a few more days before they come home.

Whew.

I still managed to start – and finish – a few paintings. A productive weekend, indeed.

Daphney

Badi

For my calendar!

The kids will be with grama and grampa for another couple days so that all four of them can finish up their Harry Potter-themed Cousin Camp. Oh. My. Goodness. I’ve only witnessed a bit of it, but you will not believe the detail and awesomeness that my mom and sister put into planning this extravaganza.

I will write a proper post about it when I get all the photos, but in the meantime, here’s a sneak peek at the costumes, sets, props and activities.

Hogwarts

Tea Leaf Reading Class

Butter Beer

Getting money from the vault at Gringott's

Supplies for Potions Class

In the pokey

Monster Book of Monsters

They may never want to come home.

I’ve sat down to write this post too many times in the past few weeks. I’ve thought of phrases that I wanted to include, or pictures to post. I’ve had second thoughts. I’ve started. Then stopped again.

It’s an obituary.

My cat Birch is 16 1/2 years old and he’s going to die. Not like sometime in the future that seems unreal and distant, but imminently. For three weeks he’s been slowing down, eating less, then nothing. Drinking less, then nothing. He’s in kidney failure I’m sure, but he’s peaceful, and at home.

I know he isn’t experiencing his own decline in the same way his family is. He isn’t thinking about when he was a kitten, or the nine houses and two states he’s lived in with us, or his two trips across the Rocky Mountains in a moving van. He’s not thinking about the time he hid in the basement for a week, or his best friend Steve, or how he’s one of only two pets my kids have ever known.

I know he is comfortable, but slowly fading. When I check on him first thing every morning I feel bad when I see that he is still hanging on – another day of watching us through gaunt eyes, purring raspily. Another day when the decision to put him down is still mine to make, but I don’t make it. I’d like him to slip away quietly, at home, in his sleep.

It’s a horrible thing to wish death on your pet.

The kids went to visit their grandparents this week and I asked them to say goodbye to Birchie just in case. My son asked that if Birch died while they were away, I would wait and tell him in person.

I’m not looking forward to that conversation, but I am looking forward to peace for our gentle giant.

Rocco’s owner describes him thus:

Rocco is the kind of cat that draws blood from guests and my kids run screaming from the room when he saunters in. I have to lock him in a bedroom when the kids’ babysitter comes over.

I can relate. I once had a cat named Wolfgang who was so vicious toward everyone but me that my then-boyfriend and I had one of those “It’s Me Or The Cat” conversations.

I married the boy. The cat went to live with my in-laws; and everyone lived happily ever after.

Rocco’s portrait will be in my calendar, an homage to dangerous cats everywhere.

Rocco