My "Yoga" pants are bored.........

We have an upcoming gallery show coming up. Busy as a potato chip salesman at a dip convention. To make matters better, we are getting ready for a trip. I will be flying. Flying gear must be obtained. After scaring the living daylights out of me for the past twenty years about the dangers of flight, this time She has me convinced that our veins simply can't take the 9 hour journey and we will pass out from the Deep Vein Thrombosis. This is called DVT. She made me watch a Marketplace-Doczone-The Nature of Things-Dragon's Den episode all about it.

We are shopping. In a mall. Something I do but once a year.

I am at the counter and ask the lovely lady my question:

Me: "HELLO. I am looking for the socks that help with diverticulitis."

Lovely Lady: "Pardon? Hmmmmmmm.....I don't think we have socks for diverticulitis."

I am frowning because I KNOW that David Suzuki Hanomansing was talking about the diverticulitis socks that keep your legs all tucked in.Tight.

SHE has overheard my question and has managed to move 20 feet in 2 seconds. Her lips have disappeared. She whispers (hisses) in my ear.... "....it is not diverticulitis! You meant to say Deep Vein Thrombosis...DVT!"

Me: "DVT.....isn't that the soy gravel we made hamburgers with the day we tried to be vegetarians?"
Her: "NO, that is TVP. Textured Vegetable Protein!"
Me: "Well, what is diverticulitis?"
Her: "It has to do with the bum!"
Me: "And you can get SOCKS for that?"
She is Pam-handling me towards the door and out of the store....clearly, I am not getting any socks for ANYTHING today.

Next store........
I am at the cash after looking at 765 pairs of black stretchy relax-itation pants. I found a pair that I accept.
Lovely Lady at Counter: "Have you been doing yoga long?"
I am horrified. My lips disappear. "Yoga" pants.
Me: "Well, I don't actually do the yoga, but I would still like to get the pants for other things. Is that okay? Not to say I will NEVER take up the yoga....I am simply not currently participating. I do know "Down Dog!" and "Hooray for the Sun!"
Her: "Oh my God, you don't have to ask if you can buy the pants.....there isn't a questionnaire. Just get them!"
Me: "Why do they call them YOGA pants then? I am not "sneaking" around in my sneakers. I am not "loafing" around in my loafers."
Her: "Are you ready to go home?"
Me: "Yes, but I didn't get the socks that will keep me from passing out."
Her: "Right now, I am willing to risk it."

Image: "Tablelands" by Cara & Pam 48" x 36" Hand-Carved/Hand-Painted

Rick James Should Change it to "Sticky Freak".....

Image: "Mermaid Song" Birdhouse by Cara & Pam

Hand-Carved/Hand-Painted

It's final. I am going to have to join a support group for my addiction......and if that doesn't work I am sure that SHE will find a solution to my problem. 

Tape. I love it. If there's a sticky situation going on somewhere in the world, I can guarantee you I will either be the cause of it or wish I had been.

Our computer store (SHE says it is an ONLINE SHOP but it is on my computer so there it is) has been  

wonderfully busy of late and we've had to package oodles and googles of boxes. To some this would seem a chore but to me, a sticky bliss. 

HER: YOU CAN'T USE AN ENTIRE ROLL OF TAPE FOR EACH PACKAGE!

Me: WHY? 

HER: Is isn't necessary and the post office lady needs a place to put her stamp.

Me: Did she tell you this.....are you working together?

SCREEEEEEECHHHHHHHH........

I pull another round off my roll and huff and gruff to wrap it around my current cardboard victim.

HER: I can't take the noise! Where is the gun I bought you?

Me: THE TAPE ACCORDION? It doesn't work. I don't like it. It is not the same.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH..........

HER: It is a tape BANJO. Please stop.

                                                  SCREEEEEEEEEEEEECH............

HER: You really have to stop. You really have to cut down on your tape usage. We aren't sending the boxes to Outer Uganda....just to Mount Pearl or Alberta. I am going to have a T-Shirt made for you that says "I am a TAPE freak"

Me: Well that's just tacky.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH...........................................

Et Tu, BooBoo?

HER: BLAH BLAH BLAH.....Cara, you are wrong.

Me: I am going to look it up on the Google and you will see that I am right.

HER: Fine, look it up. If you are wrong, you have to give BooBoo the rest of your frozen yogurt.

Me: FINE!

google, google, google.....

I think the photo above speaks for itself.

"Hey Blanche, if you get Tall one to make a bet with the short one, you might end up getting a treat!"

Old, Aunty Artica was a cold, cold, lady........

Giant Arctic Snowcat Ambushes Seal Colony Near Upper Island Cove, Newfoundland

"Big Island - Upper Island Cove" Oil on Canvas by Cara

ME: Did you see the weather? HUGE waves expected this afternoon....HUGE! Why do we live 3 feet from the edge of the ocean......it would be safer in Antartica.

HER: For the 7 millionth time, it's ANTARCTICA. Remember, last week you did the story about the giant Arctic snowcat...we had this conversation.

ME: That was an Artic...... this is ANTartica.

HER: Who is Aunt Artica...your long lost, chilly relative? LOOK IT UP!

ME: On the Google?

HER: YES.

ME: I still say the "C" is silent. BUT IT WON'T BE THIS AFTERNOON, will it?

silence

ME: DID YOU GET MY JOKE?

silence

A very chilly reaction to my very funny joke. SHE really IS just like Aunt Artica.

When I Die and they Lay Me to Restroom.....

Image: The OUTHOUSE by Cara Kansala * Oil on Canvas
(I am so desperate for a bathroom in my studio, I have taken to painting outhouses. HINT HINT)

We are upstairs in the studio. I have to pee. Again. I will have to clean my brushes, put on my boots, my coat, my hat, my scarf, go outside into the death-cold, walk by the goats, wave to the goats, go into the house, trip over 5 cats and a crate of crates and run to the bathroom. I have to pee so bad I might die. I decide to hold it. Death bladder looms.
ME: When I die, I would like you to serve chocolate chip cookies at the memorial and show funny pictures of the animals and have everyone sing that song I love.
HER: What song?
ME: The one I love. YOU KNOW, the one I love!
HER: "Copacabana" by Barry Manilow?
ME: NO, that one I love about being young! And write out the words for everyone to sing along.
HER: By hand?
ME: No, print them out. But if I wanted them written out by hand, would that be so terrible? My last request? I will have DIED!
HER: I guess not. When I die, I want not a thing. Nothing.
ME: YOU can't die before me. You CAN'T!
How will I get my chocolate chip cookie-photo-showing-crowd-sing-a-long-service?
HER: Well, I guess you'll have nothing, too.
ME: No, No, if you die first the only solution is for me to give YOU my chocolate-chip-cookie-photo-showing-crowd-sing-a-long-service. That way I can enjoy it too!
HER: And would you ENJOY it?
ME: (I let a little time pass so it seems like I am being thoughtful and contemplative).
I wouldn't enjoy it though I WOULD choke down a cookie or two. You know, just to show I cared.
So, would you put a bathroom in the studio?
HER: When?
ME: Well, before you go?
HER: Where? To the BATHROOM?
And she puts on her coat in a flurry of devilment (SHE is already wearing Her boots) and She runs to the door. SHE is beating me to the bathroom......I will never make it. Death bladder looms. I only hope She remembers what song to play.......you know, the one about being young. If I get stuck with Copacabana, just know that I was always Lola. With yellow ribbons in my hair and my dress cut down to there........

Valentine starts with "V"

I have painter-itis, art-thritis, a-pen-disitis, collarbone-era and inkfluenza. I have been painting and drawing to beat the band. (I DID beat the band by the way. They are demanding a rematch.)
SO last weekend I was thrilled, I tell you THRILLED, that friends said they would come for lunch on Sunday. A lovely break, with cooking and laughter and sitting down at the table like civilized beings instead of running up and down the studio stairs spilling mugs of coffee while holding fuzzy-pocketed granola bars.
I made my lovely grocery list so that I could WOW our friends with my tomato and mint salad, my Tuscan Bean soup and my drunken peaches in cream.
SHE was in charge of the grocery store project while I stayed home and coaxed the hairballs down from the ceiling corners and de-fuzzified the sofa.
She came home with bags and bags of supplies and thank goodness She got home when She did because a huge storm had started. (And not just outside)
I started unpacking the groceries and bewilderment changed to fury.
Me: WHERE ARE THE TOMATOES?
HER: They didn't have any nice ones so I bought these instead. They start with "T". They are red...isn't that the same?
After consulting the Google, I found out She had purchased 15 tomatillos....a weird, fruity, seedy creature that is NOT like a tomato at all!
Me: Where are my green peppers?
HER: They didn't have any, so I got the avocados.
ME: WHERE IS THE PANCETTA?
HER: Again, they didn't have any, so I found this maple flavored bacon?
ME: OMG! What about the peaches...I don't see any...even peaches in a can?
HER:......um, they had persimmons on sale. They start with "P".
She holds up a sack, stretching under the weight of about 400 persimmons.

ME: Well, this is just great! What am I going to do? My soup will be a disaster....MAPLE Flavoured SOUP?
HER: SOUP.....well...... it will still start with "S"

What's Up Doc?

The busiest two weeks since time began just ended. Trying to fulfill orders and create our new catalogue has taken the Mickey Mouse out of us both! Rose and Sophie refused to help saying it wouldn't behoove them to assist us as they had a lot of goat business to attend to. Goats. Moreover, SHE has been extra crankified due to the super healthy eating plan that I started us on a month ago.

Sophie is a monkey in her new winter hat. 

HER: I can hear my stomach growling. It is getting ready to vacate the premises, walk itself to the refrigerator and make itself a sandwich.
Me: We have no bread, butter or sandwich fixings. Would you like a carrot?
HER: YES. YES, I will have yet another GD$!#*&! carrot.

I hand her a lovely, giant, carrot. It has, in fact, been washed.

HER: REALLY? You give the goats carrots every day. You wash the carrots, peel the carrots and then cut the carrots into pieces. Not just regular pieces but sticks. THEN YOU PUT THEM IN WARM WATER SO THE GOATS WON'T HAVE TO EAT COLD CARROTS. AND THEN YOU DRY THE CARROTS OFF BECAUSE GOATS DON'T LIKE WET CARROTS.
And you hand ME a fusty, hairy carrot with its hat still on?

Me: Do you know how many children choke every year on hot dogs because the tube shape gets stuck in their throats? Tube shaped foods have to be cut lengthwise. Carrots apply.
HER: But they are NOT children, they are goats. GOATS!

Me: Yes, AND they also don't have any top teeth. When YOU no longer have top teeth, I will cut up your carrots. Until then, if you need your carrots in sticks you can use your arms and cut them up yourself!
Just eat your carrot and have a big glass of water and soon it will be dinner.

HER: Oh great. What are we having? Turnip peels and prune pits? All of Rose and Sophie's scraps?
ME: No. Would you like a treat? I could make you a few big hot dogs. And don't worry, I won't cut them up.

My Fairy Goat Mother.....

I have the best Fairy Goat Mother since time began. This morning I was incredibly focussed on my painting and paid little attention to anything else. A one track mind. I had one and was heading towards Troubleville fast.
I gathered up my brushes, my coffee and my paper towels, put on some shoes and a hat, went outdoors and up to my studio. I couldn't wait to get to work!
The past few weeks I have been doing some oil paintings for the summer....big, chunky canvases with lots of textured, yummy paint. I LOVE it!
SO, to work I went......scraping, squeezing, mixing, blending, throwing. LOTS of throwing, splattering and flicking.
I was so proud of myself for taking the time to put up a plastic sheet before I started. SHE would be so very proud, too. I wasn't until I looked down and saw the floor (the one She has been sanding the paint off so She can re-paint it) that I realized I forgot to cover up the floor. To make matters worse, I had put on Her very best El Naturalista shoes from Spain. The leather ones that She hopes will last all her life long. WHY HAD SHE LEFT THEM BY THE DOOR? I just slipped into them this morning without thinking. Shoes...I needed them.
The magic of it all?  There was only one teeny-tiny speck of blue paint on the right foot. Nothing else. My Fairy Goat Mother was on duty this morning and I'll have to make sure she gets a bonus.
When She sees the floor though, I suspect She might die from the anger. On a positive note, Her Spanish shoes WILL have lasted all Her life long!

Image: "Aloof" Oil on Canvas by Cara kansala 2013   30" x 60"

Image: "Into the Trough" Oil on Canvas by Cara Kansala 2013 30" x 60"

Image: The Most Popular Shoes in Troubleville

It's a goat my Lord, in a half ton Ford, slowin' down to get a kick outta me...

Big, lovely box of delicious paints arrived from Curry's on Tuesday so I am going to work and leaving HER to Her own devices in the kitchen. She asked today, for wiener schnitzel but after the last German meal, it will be a long time before I fill Her hungriger bauch with saurkrout und wurstwaren.

 A few weeks ago, lovely friends were over for the big, German feast......

HER: BLAH...BLAH... BLAH...TRUCKS. TRUCKS! BLAH BLAH TRUCKS.  Running boards, trailer hitch, TORQUE, shock absorbers, stabilizer  bar, compression ratio, BLAH BLAH, double wishbone, TRUCKS, kinetic suspension, transfer case, crawl control. BLAH BLAH BLAH TRUCKS.

She is talking about trucks and I might die from the boredom  My heart is actually slowing down and I feel my pulse weakening. It goes on and on and on..........multi-dash terrain select, hood scoop, moon roof.

At least one of our guests is taking part in Her Truck-fest 2012, so that is good thing. I try to break in with offers of more kartoffelsalat or Paulaner....NOPE! SHE is on a roll!

ME: WELL, THE ONLY THING I KNOW ABOUT TRUCKS IS THAT A HALF TON TRUCK WEIGHS HALF A TON.

Silence.

She looks at me like I just stuck a steak knife in my eye socket while singing "Doe-A-Deer".

HER: BA-HA-HA! That is your best joke EVER!

Everyone chuckles and they all talk some more about the hemi engines.

I am glad that I was able to break in with a joke. It wasn't until later that I consulted with the Google and found out that half ton trucks don't actually weigh, half a ton.
....and I guess that stabilizer bars aren't delicious, blood-sugar regulating treats that you keep in your glove box, either.

Oh My Mummer, What a Bummer!

Images: The stages of a mummer carving from beginning to END.

Hand-Carved/Hand-Painted by Cara & Pam

We have been working this week on the next mummer figurine for Mummer's The Word.....SHE has been whittling away Her days while I await the finished carving.........
HER: Can I take a photo of you from behind?
ME: PARDON?
HER: Could you sort of bend at the knee and lean forward a bit.....I need the pose for the mummer carving.
ME: You mean the mummer that is going to be rotund, jolly, bottom-heavy, heavy-set and STOCKY?
She looks nervous....the gerbil that lives in her head has just boarded his wheel....around and around he goes. That wheel is turning. Fast.
She starts to say seventeen different things at once and clearly cannot come up with a response that will be
a) suitable
and/or
b) pleasing to my delicate ears
Moreover, (I am over 40 now, so I can say things like moreover and behoove) MOREOVER, I have us on a New Year's Resolution schedule of healthy breakfasts and lunches and yummier dinners. Tonight I was going to make Her a roast of beef with mushrooms and asparagoosies. SHE knows that if She doesn't play Her cards right, She could possibly end up choking down a bowl of Red River with extra flax seeds to boot. And maybe even a boot.
HER: Oh my god, there is no way to fix this except to say that you NEED your heavy bottom because you fall down so much!
ME: WHAT?
HER: Oh my GOD! I am so hungry my mouth is just working on its own here. PLEASE let's cook the roast and be friends. If your bottom was smaller, you'd have to get new clothes and just think how much you hate shopping!
I look at Her with amusement and turn around and pose for Her photo.
She sighs and takes Her pictures and goes into the kitchen with an air of relief.
HER: Would you like a diet Root Beer?
ME: I don't have any more.
HER: You DO! I hid one away for ...ah...um...times like this?
She passes me a frosty glass.
HER: BOTTOMS UP!
I didn't know She could run that fast.

Back to the Drawing Board!

To all of our friends, customers and clients - thank you for making 2012 the Best Year Since Time Began! I so appreciate you sharing your comments, laughter and stories with me...it is nice to know that I am not alone in the world with my spills, clumsies and faux paws!

 We here, at The Grumpy Goat had so much fun creating custom pieces, pet portraits, wedding gifts and birthday surprises for those of you who chose to gift a Grumpy Goat gift! To everyone who shopped at and supported our new online store, thanks a squidillion for your support and to friends who are able to come out to the gallery in person, we can't wait to see you when we re-open in June, 2013. 

What's up for 2013?

Lots of people have asked for it, so here it comes.....

The Official Naked Nan Calendar - 2014

(Nan is pretty impressed with herself and has said she'll even sign a few copies if she ever gets rid of the tendonitis she got while competing in  The 2012 Crochet Olympics)

Also, there will be lots of new originals available soon through the store and all kinds of new paintings done in canvas reproduction!

We're back to the drawing board and the paint is flying!

 Image: Private Christmas commission, 2012 by Cara & Pam

 Image: "The Kitty City Bakery" private commission, hand-painted floorcloth by Cara

 Image: "Just Before the Storm" (Oil on Canvas by Cara Kansala) in its new home!

Image: Sophia and Rose contemplating New Years Resolutions. They've decided not to butt heads on every issue if we promise to give them a bigger window with a better view.

Image: "The Holy Goats of Bishop's Cove" (Oil on Canvas by Cara Kansala) and its happy, new owner!

Hooray for everyone! Wishing good luck, good health and lots of laughter for you and yours in 2013!

From: Cara, Pam, Rosie, Sophia, Stanley, Blanche, Big Fat BooBoo, Nana, Foofi, Brother Bear, Lily, Vincenzo, Liza Minnelli, Popeye, Fat Aunt Sylvia, Itchy, Scratchy, PJ Tips, Pumpkin, Boris and the birds of Grumpy Goat Garden.

Happy Holidays to You From Everyone Here At the Grumpy Goat!!

My Life in the Hot Seat......

I might have mentioned before that I have a cute hypochondria. It is sweet and endearing and never ever drives Her to the brink, the edge or around the bend.

The growth under my mouth?  My chin.

The shakes in my hands and buzzy feeling in my chest?  37 cups of espresso.

My monthly hysteria as I put on my socks…. “Oh my God, I’ve grown another toe!!”

“We all have 5 toes.” She tells me. “ON EACH FOOT?” I ask.

Last week we had to go to the gallery in town and change and re-arrange and re-organize and so She loaded me into our rental vehicle (yellow peril was in the garage for minor surgery) and off we went.

After a few minutes, I started to feel very odd. “The Worry” set in and I started going over my very extensive symptoms list in my head.

Symptoms of a stroke: Headache- nope. Ask yourself what day it is. WHAT DAY IS IT? I asked myself. I DON’T KNOW! I answered. OH MY GOD! But you often don’t know what day it is, I tell myself. I move on to the next symptom.

Dizziness? Nope. Can I smile? Yes, but I don’t want to because I feel so odd.

My legs and thighs are very tingly and my back is very hot, VERY HOT. My bum might be going numb, it is THAT hot. I am starting to panic and these strange feelings are only getting worse. Maybe I am going paralyzed. Maybe I AM having a stroke and this is a very rare symptom. HOT. The heat of 1000 suns is bursting through my caboose and is getting worse as the kilometers roll by. If I say something to Her, She will just get mad and say “Don’t be so foolish, you’re fine.”

So I keep my zipper zipped and close my eyes and will my body to heal thyself.

Minutes pass and I am starting to panic. I can’t take it anymore and decide to tell Her that we have to go to the hospital before She turns towards St. John’s.

ME: “We have to go to the hospital”

HER: “WHY?” she asks.

ME: “I am having a stroke or a heart attack or both or an outbreak of cancer. I have a fever in my bum!”

HER: “What is wrong exactly?”

ME: “I am tingly and burning. Burning like fire all down the back of my legs, my lower back and bum!”

She is convulsing and pulls over to the shoulder. Stopped.  OH MY GOD…….SHE knows that these ARE symptoms of the stroke-cancer-heart-attack-seizure and is having a hysterical panic attack. I will have to drive myself to the hospital!

BAH-HA-HA-HAAABAHA HA HA HA! She screams. Tears are running down Her face. She must know that this is the end and can’t face the world without me in it.

My heart is racing, bum on fire, panic set-in, ready for the full-on hysteria ….…

HER: “THIS CAR  HAAS HEATED SEEAATS!  BAHAHAHA BAHAHAHAHA!”  HAVE YOU BEEN WORRIED ALL THIS TIME THAT YOU HAVE A FEVER IN YOUR BUM? BBAHAHAHAAAA!”

We stay on the shoulder for quite a few minutes as it takes this long for Her to compose Herself and get a grip. Needless to say, we did not go to the hospital. I MAY have to go fairly soon though, for trauma to my ego. Ego-itis, it’s called. Do you know or have any idea how many jokes can be made about a bum, a backside or a hot bum. Millions, I tell you millions. I hate the stupid rental car and all of the trouble it has caused me. What a bummer, indeed. 

 "Blanche The Recycler" inspects the garbage can and chastises us for not re-using the gift wrap.

For Sale: One Extra Large Carpenter/Artist. Comes with Own Tools and a Months Supply of Feed. No Returns.

Yesterday afternoon after a busy morning, we decided to take a quiet break for 1 hour.
SHE has Her nose in a book.
I am also holding an open book in my lap. We are being quiet.
Me: "SO.......I cooked the ham and made the gingersnaps, the 2 mats are painted and I am going to varnish them this afternoon. I finished wrapping the gifts for Ontario and I've got everything ready to bring to town. I need you to cut the backs for the big orders and get down the jars from on top of the cupboard because I can't reach them."
She doesn't move a muscle, look at me or even acknowledge my words with a grumble. SHE is on a break.
 Me: "We have to add hay and grain to the shopping list and also, if you want chowder, we will have to get scallops. You have to call Aliant and also move the picnic table up onto the deck. I need to get some more tupperware containers......and cloves - I need whole cloves for the pork roast for the New years Eve party. Is it time to put the clothes in the dryer? I fed the goats and changed their water. Sophie seems great but Rosie is a little hoarse. Blanche and Stanley are outside. Should we get them all a little tree? "
SHE doesn't move a muscle, look at me or even acknowledge my words with a grumble. SHE is on a break.
45 minutes later, with Her nose and eyes still deep in the book......

Her: ".....and all this time I thought Rosie was a goat."

...and that's what it's all about!

This was a photograph we were given when  asked to create a custom wood-carved piece for a lovely family we met last summer. 

This is the piece we made. Hand-Carved/Hand-Painted by Cara & Pam 2012

This is the man from the photograph posing with his piece. It was a joy for us to work on because we knew it was about a special moment  on a very special day. The customers were pleased and we were happy too.....and that is what it's all about.

Hark! It's Hairold!

This week we've been busier than two full-fat sour cream salesman at a baked potato convention.
Custom orders, online shop shipments and Christmas events that need attending. No time for twice baked potatoes here!

Last week..... I am running late. SHE is ready to go, with coat and shoes on. She is jingle-jangling the car keys in her hand which in Her universe, must make people move faster.
I have put on my tights, my spanx, my good brassiere, my control top-ready for battle underthingy, my full slip and my newly pressed good dress. I have washed the Hair, blown it dry, straightened it with the dangerous straightening stick and have the make-up on. I am exhausted but ready to roll. One last glance in the mirror and I notice that Hair is sticking up. Floating above my head. I look like I did went I was 10 and went to the science museum and put my hand on the electric magic ball. Hair has betrayed me and has gone static for the second time in its life.
ME: PAM! Ask the Google for an anecdote to static cling of the hair!
Her: Pardon?
ME: I need an anecdote to get rid of the static hair! Hurry!!!
Her: That's what I thought you said......
The keys stop jangling and I hear Her walking away, hopefully to consult the Google.
I take out my tiny bottle of magic Arganon Hair Straightening oil and smooth it over Hair. Nothing.
Her: Did you hear about the lady who went to bed but her hair stayed up?
ME: What? WHAT?
Her: Did you hear about the man who had a hair-raising mishap when he stuck his finger in a socket?
ME: Are you joking?
Her: Yes. You asked me to.
ME: WHAT?
Her: You asked for an anecdote. Would you instead, like an antidote?
ME: ^{##<%|>>!!!!!
Her: How did your hair get that way? Did you rub a balloon on your head?
ME: YES! ALL MORNING IN BETWEEN PAINTING, MAKING TORTIERE, FILLING ORDERS AND WRAPPING GIFTS, EVERY CHANCE I GOT, I RUBBED A BALLOON ON MY HEAD!!!
Her: Well, I don't think you should do that anymore unless you plan on staying home.
Jingle-jangle-jingle.......

Yes. We are still together but just barely. Barely just.......

Wacky Weekend Sale!

Sophie and Rose have goat-jacked the online store for the weekend and are having a
SILLY WEEKEND SALE! (While Quantities last!)
THEY MUST HAVE HAY FEVER!

St. John's Harbour, 16" x 16"
Canvas Reproduction - 33% OFF!

St. John's Narrows, 16" x 16"
Canvas Reproduction - 33% OFF!

Icebergs in the Tickle, 16" x 16"
Canvas Reproduction - 33% OFF!

PLUS, Free Shipping (for North America) and gift wrap, too!

The goats don't like to toot their own horns but they think this is a pretty goaty holiday deal!


SALE ENDS DECEMBER 10th at 10pm.

Nothing to Stew Over......

Image: "Sophia's First Snowfall" Acrylic on Canvas by Cara

Because this has been an incredibly hectic, difficult week I decided last night to make a lovely, homemade beef stew. I put down my paintbrush, picked up my wooden spoon and went to work. I thought it would cheer Her up and that having a nice, quiet dinner would give us a chance to take a breath and relax.
HER: nom, nom, NOM... this is very VERY good stew. NOM, NOM. VERY GOOD.
Me: Thanks. nom.nom.
HER: No, no, it is REALLY good. Your stew is always terrific but this one is even better! The gravy!  NOM. NOM.
Me: Well, it's the same as always.
HER: What is in it? NOM. NOM.
Me: Beef, carrots, parsnips, peas, allspice, shallots, bacon, red wine....the usual.
HER: NOMNOMNOM....I thought we were out of red wine?
Me: Nope, I found a bottle in the back of the cupboard.
HER: NOM, NOM, NO.........red wine in the back of the cupboard?
Me: Yes...old black bottle.
She appears to be choking on a carrot and has turned a strange greenish-white colour. Not very attractive, even in the candlelight.
HER: oh......no. Please don't say it was my Amarone. PLEASE.
Me: WELL HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW!! nom. nom.
HER: I WAS SAVING IT. IT COST A FORTUNE!
Me: Well, you shouldn't keep so many secrets. Do you want me to put the rest of the gravy in a wine glass?
HER: nom. NO.
Me: Well, is it still the best stew since time began?
HER: YES. It IS fabulous. NOM.NOM.
Me: Then stop wine-ing about it and enjoy.
HER: Can I at least drink the rest of the wine with my dinner?
Me: No, because I put the whole bottle in.
HER: uhhhhh.....
Me: Well, if you eat all the stew, you will be so drunk you'll forget about it until morning.

HER: ok. NOM.NOM.
Me: See? Nothing to stew over at all..........

 THE EMPTY

She slept with it last night 

close to her heart

She clutched it tightly

cold and black

Its vacancy mocked Her

coursing through Her veins

the liquid gold 

infused her dreams with lies

the pillow wet with a thousand tears

the irony weighted her soul

fitfully

She slept.

Amarone.

Amarone.

Amarone.

by Cara Kansala

Things are RRRUUFFF!!

I locked myself out of my studio. Again. SHE had to magically squeeze through the 10 inch window (the tiny one I wanted because it was SO cute!) AGAIN.
I am in the doghouse.
If anyone would like to visit me, please bring a wooly sweater, some water and I wouldn't say no to a new rubber ball.
Even though She is THAT angry with me, She is still letting me go with my darlings to the movies today. No popcorn, no treats.
All I am allowed to do is sit. SIT!

Showtime!

 Image: Western Brook Pond" by Cara & Pam * Wood/Mixed Media

Thank you SO much to everyone who joined us at our gallery opening on Sunday. It was a ball and we both had a terrific time meeting new friends and visiting with old ones. Amber and everyone at the Heritage Art Gallery did an amazing job and we are so lucky to be able to work with them. The show is up and running until January 6th, so if you have a chance, do stop by!

 Image: "In Mr> Peckford's Dreams the Sky is Always Blue" by Cara Kansala * Oil on Canvas

Image: Left - "A Full Moon For Ewen" by Cara Kansala - Oil on Canvas

 Image: Gallery View Left

 Image: "The Other Side of the Feather" by Cara Kansala - Oil on Canvas

Image: "Rose the Goat" by Cara Kansala - Oil on Canvas

The Goats Who Stole Christmas 2

Image: "The Haypook" by Cara Kansala
Oil on Canvas * 24" x 48"

Image: "The Feather" by Cara Kansala
Oil on Canvas * 36" x 60"