In this case,a small gothic door like the one seen above. First of all the shape was scraped into place and then work began to chisel and scrap and scribe out the raised entrance way for the door. After that the defining of the stone work surrounding the entrance and the actual wall was scribe out.
The medical plaster stuck onto the scribing tool where the file was upon the stem. It saved my hand from sore chaffing. Better there in the first place upon metal then placing it upon a rather sore hand.
A good tip when using hand scribing tools.
The little gothic door slipped deeply into place giving it the normality look of it being planted there for many a long year. The last of the wall was then finished off in the repetitive style of deep shadow line scribing.
Yes I am most pleased with the look. Wooden steps would have led up to the entrance in days long gone by. And so it is that the work ongoing is gradually falling up into place.
I have felt very sad and tears flow now and again. Three days ago our little one eyed dog Keats,passed away. After 9 years as part of the family it does break your heart.I believe a little life lost deserves a few sad tears for they are only ever here once,as indeed are we all.
On a happy note,
Mrs B,and I saved her as a pup,as she was going to be put down because she was the runt of the litter and half blind. We bought her,and paid Vet bills to have her infected eye removed. So in that it comforts me knowing that our little happy home was also hers for her lifetime.
Of course she was Mrs B`s dog much more than mine, and Keats, would never let me pick her up or even pet her,but oddly her affection was shown in another way and I know that I will always miss her following me around the house all the time as if my shadow. I will also miss seeing her one good eye shining in the darkness under my PC desk, as I type my work in the dark. Always I`d look down and there she would be content to be there,but it is dark now as this falls upon the whiteness of the screen but sadly she my shadow is no more..... Love is such a powerful strange thing.
It is rather quiet here now in our Fiddlewood home,as Keats, had sure made barking into a very fine art at odd times of the day. She was self appointed as the welcome dog as Mrs B,returned home and it was always noisy as she declared to Bella, our other dog and me,that the hunter gatherer had returned safely home. It is a Wolf Pack thing that`s for sure.
I had included little Keats our one eyed dog in one of my story`s " THE HOUSE", a few months ago in April.
Being 18 inches in height she sure was beautiful in her odd ways,
and well worth a little mention here.