A long tiring day assembling stretchers.
This consists of creeping about on the floor screwing the bits of stretcher together. Then fixing spacer strips to the edges and cursing as I run out of panel pins.
Creeping about on the floor measuring up the canvas and cutting from the roll comes next. Then stretching the canvas on the stretchers and cursing as I run out of staples for the staple gun.
Finally, priming the canvas and cursing as I run out of acrylic gesso.
It's so good to work in a well-stocked studio.
This is the tedious part. Tomorrow I can get on with laying out the pictures, several at a time. I like that bit.
But today was just grind, brightened only by the news that the trial of Slobodan Milosevic has been postponed indefinitely due to his failing health.
Surely they know that all they have to do is send him home and he'll be well again. Worked wonders for Thatcher's friend, poor old General Pinochet, the only man in history to recover from Alzheimer's.
Would that my own cure might be as easily attained.
I phoned the surgery today and asked for Doc Pop. Apparently he was expecting my call, because he went on two weeks holiday today.
"Well, I don't know who to see, then," I said. "I don't even know who else is in the practice now."
"I might as well tell you now," offered the receptionist, "that we have no appointments left today. If you phone tomorrow after 8.30, you can ask for an appointment for that day. We're now an Open Access practice, and that's how it works now."
Why does this sound ominously like first come, first served, and if you don't get an appointment on one day, you have to go through the same rigmarole the next day? At this rate, Doc Pop will be back from his hols before I get an appointment. And what guarantee is there that I'll get to see him, anyway?