It being Easter Sunday, I have spent much of the day painting eggs. There is an amiable Polish custom of painting an egg for every person in the house on Easter Day, making them into a chain and hanging them up — I made such a chain for the household while the Northern Professor was at church, and then this afternoon Tayla dropped by and I helped her to make one for her own household — the one for her mother was a spirited representation of the Jack Russell Johnny Rotten, Dad’s was one of the horses, the Apparitional’s was camouflage green, and her own was bright blue and covered in black and orange paw prints — a bit like a very small Miro. I rather liked it. This time last week, I was also up to my elbows in acrylics — we were staying with friends near Skipton who have a built in cupboard in the dining room with a rounded head: there is thus a more or less semicircular top to the thing. They fancied the idea of having a painting there, so I did the traditional thing, i.e. a view of the house itself taken from an imaginary high perspective so you could see the high moors and the drystone walls behind. It came out very well, though it was fiendishly difficult –the house dates to the 1630s and has very idiosyncratic windows arranged with total lack of symmetry. Fortunately there was a technical drawing of the place I could blu-tack up and use to keep myself from going astray. It was all rather strenuous, because I was painting standing on a chair, so I was constantly stepping up & down like Canadian Air Force exercises. I also have to marble a column and a bust — annoyingly I already marbled the column, rather well, but the allegedly clear varnish I then put on it turned out to be a murky brown which ran and streaked in the flutes of the column so I have simply had to paint the damn thing white again and start over; something which I have naturally been putting off. It has been sitting in the middle of my study for three weeks looking very odd indeed. Still, it has been fun doing all this painting — I’ve had so little time to myself for ages that I’ve hardly done anything for a year. But it seems to be like riding a bicycle; such skills as I possess haven’t actually deserted me, which is good to know.