June 17, 2028 - And So It Begins.
As many of you know, I've been out of work on medical leave for the past month. While I certainly haven't mastered the art of sitting still, the unexpected gift of time has allowed me to focus on two things: figuring out my health and spending more time building Clucking Hill.
Something unexpected happened along the way. Quite by accident, my paintings and things started telling stories. The bronze rabbit I brought home because I thought he would add a little whimsy to the house somehow developed a personality of his own. Since he's clearly a distinguished gentleman, I named him Alfred. (To Joe's mild embarrassment, Alfred also has a proper nameplate befitting a debonair rabbit of his stature.) Alfred is an observer. Not in a creepy peering-through-the-curtains sort of way, but in the way that some people seem born to notice things. He remembers. He records. He keeps track of train schedules, weather patterns, blooming flowers, and the daily comings and goings of chickens, dogs, and various other residents of Clucking Hill—including one dog who may or may not actually be a shape-shifter.
Somewhere along the way, Alfred began narrating. (it's not the meds, I swear) And then, before I knew it, there was a book in my head.
So I suppose the big news is this: I think I'm writing and illustrating a book about life on Clucking Hill. It'll be a collection of stories about resilience and waiting. About hope, peace, and belonging. About family, friendship, creativity, and finally finding your way home after a long journey. Alfred, naturally, will be serving as narrator because that simply feels right. And have no fear, there will be a measure of ridiculousness throughout because well... I am who I am.
With all of that in mind, I thought this might be a good time to start a monthly newsletter via this blog
I'll share upcoming classes and events, what's blooming in the garden, what the chickens are getting into, what's currently on the easel, and frequent dispatches from Alfred himself - in fact, his first note is below. Over time, I'll introduce you to the growing cast of characters who seem determined to make themselves at home in this little world. You can also meet some of them on the “The Stories” page of this website. Thank you for being here.
xoxo Diana
Observations, Paint, Chickens, and Other Important Matters
A Note from Alfred
Good morning.
For those who are new to Clucking Hill, my name is Alfred. I am a bronze rabbit of distinguished character, part-time naturalist, full-time gentleman, and the unofficial keeper of notes regarding life on the hill. My duties include observing the garden, monitoring the chickens, documenting artistic endeavors, and occasionally recording events that others may overlook. I have found that the world is full of remarkable things if one takes the time to notice them.
Each month, I shall provide a brief report regarding what is blooming, what is being painted, what is being cooked, and what nonsense the residents of Clucking Hill have managed to create for themselves.
Now then. Let us begin.
Upcoming Classes & Events
July 11 - Tidal Dreams: Watercolor Whales
August 8 - The First Annual Clucking Hill Muumuus, Merriment, & Mid-Century Modern Event
Register now on the Classes page! For this event, you can expect:
Mid-century modern inspired artwork
Ridiculous (but comfortable) muumuus (Attendance in proper colorful, retro muumuu or caftan attire is strongly encouraged. There are plenty of muumuu shopping days until then!)
Excessive costume jewelry (can you top what the artist has planned to wear?)
Retro snacks and serveware
Beverages beginning with the letter M
What’s Blooming on the Hill
Summer has arrived with enthusiasm. The portulaca have become excessively cheerful and continue to bloom in brilliant shades of pink, apparently determined to brighten everyone’s day whether they asked for it or not.
The daylilies are putting on a splendid display throughout the garden, while lavender, bee balm, daisies, cosmos, milkweed, goldenrod, Joe Pye weed, and agastache are all contributing to the growing pollinator beds.
The deer, meanwhile, remain committed to their unauthorized gardening program. Several new roses were sampled before protective measures could be enacted. Fortunately, two blooms survived and are currently receiving the sort of attention usually reserved for royalty.
We also have enough mint for the entire Commonwealth of Virginia. If anyone needs some, please let us know.
What’s on the Easel:
Several projects are currently occupying the studio:
Blackwater Benediction
A stained-glass-inspired watercolor of the Fredericksburg bridge, reflecting across still water beneath moody summer skies. The piece explores light, reflection, and the quiet beauty of familiar places.
A Local Business Donation
A special painting is underway for a local business, blending architecture, history, and a bit of Clucking Hill whimsy.
The Beetlethorpes
Reginald and Annaliese continue to make themselves known, despite varying opinions regarding proper behavior, travel habits, and decorative accessories.
Native Wildflowers
Studies are underway featuring some of Virginia’s beautiful native plants, many of which can already be found growing throughout Clucking Hill.
What Else is Going On?
This week brings exciting developments. Work continues with Frog and Mantis Printing as we prepare a small collection of hand-embellished fine art prints. There is still much to learn about editions, paper, gold embellishment, and the mysterious world of professional printing, but progress is being made one step at a time.
Creature Report
After a brief flirtation with broodiness, Caroline and Teriyaki have both decided that motherhood sounds like considerably more work than originally advertised. As a result, all residents have returned to general population and are currently clucking about the jail yard in good spirits. Today’s bird gourmet menu includes leftover stir fry and fruit salad. Morale remains high.
As for my fellow four-legged friends, Petey spent much of the month conducting important research into the quality of various sunbeams throughout the house and yard. His findings suggest that all sunbeams are excellent, though afternoon varieties are particularly suitable for napping.
Rosie continues to patrol the property for suspicious toads, reckless lizards, and other creatures minding their own business. The Artist disapproves of these activities, while Rosie maintains that she is simply performing her civic duty.
Fenwick remains an object of considerable scientific interest. Known to some readers as Cocoa, he has elected to use a nom de plume for literary purposes. I have been assured this is standard practice and not, as originally suspected, the result of witness protection. He continues to divide opinion among local observers. Though commonly described as a dog, recent reports from the Ring camera have alternatively identified him as a fox, a turkey, and a bobcat. At present, no definitive conclusion has been reached. Fenwick himself has declined to comment on the matter. He’s busy.
What’s Cooking
Last weekend&’s Monstera classes were fueled by vegetarian green chile quiche and fresh garden salsa. The salsa proved unexpectedly popular and generated multiple recipe requests. The recipe has been posted on Facebook, though I suspect the success of the dish may have had as much to do with good company as the ingredients themselves.
Until Next Month - From all of us here at Clucking Hill—thank you for painting with us, visiting the garden, encouraging the artwork, and sharing in this strange and wonderful little corner of the world.
We’ll see you next month.
— Alfred
(Part-Time Naturalist, Full-Time Gentleman)
July 17, 2026 - The Slow Work of Becoming
Hi, friends! Happy mid-July!
The older I get, the more I realize that the most meaningful things in life are rarely built all at once. Gardens don't bloom overnight. Paintings begin with masking fluid and awkward first washes that don't look like much of anything. Friendships deepen through ordinary conversations. Businesses are built one class, one student, one painting, one idea at a time.
This month has been full of that sort of quiet work.
From the outside, it probably looks like Clucking Hill has simply gained a website, a few new paintings, and a handful of upcoming events. Behind the scenes, though, it's been filled with learning. Learning about printing, taxes, websites, business licenses, marketing, and the hundreds of little things that somehow become part of building a dream.
The future Clucking Hill studio still exists mostly in my imagination. At the moment, it's a basement full of boxes waiting patiently for walls, electricity, and a bathroom. Yet somehow I can already picture watercolor classes, coffee shared with friends, laughter around the paint tables, and quiet afternoons spent reading by the windows. I suppose that's part of building something beautiful—you have to believe in it long before anyone else can see it.
Next week I return to my day job after several weeks away on medical leave. While I wish my neck had healed more quickly, this unexpected season gave me something I didn't realize I needed: time. Time to paint. Time to dream. Time to build Clucking Hill one careful step at a time. For that, I'll always be grateful.
Thank you for following along on this adventure. Your encouragement has meant more than you know.
With love,
Diana
Upcoming Classes & Events
August 8 The First Annual Clucking Hill Muumuus, Merriment & Mid-Century Modern Gathering
Preparations are well underway. The vintage green glass collection continues to grow, the costume jewelry has become delightfully excessive, retro refreshments are being planned, and I have every reason to believe this may be the only art class where wearing an outrageous muumuu is considered entirely appropriate.
If you've been waiting for permission to dress colorfully, laugh loudly, and spend a day making art with kind people... This is it.
Additional fall classes, holiday workshops, and several vendor events continue to fill the calendar, and I cannot wait to share them with you.
What's Blooming on the Hill
The zinnias have collectively decided that subtlety is overrated. Together with the coneflowers, they have completely stolen the show, filling the gardens with color and welcoming bees, butterflies, and every passing pollinator.
Perhaps the biggest surprise, however, has been the return of several balloon flowers that I was convinced had disappeared two years ago. Apparently they had other plans and quietly decided they still belonged here after all. Nature has a remarkable way of reminding us that hope occasionally arrives exactly where we least expect it.
What's on the Easel
Today belongs to the paintbrush. After several weeks spent teaching classes, preparing templates, organizing prints, building a website, and learning the business side of Clucking Hill, I'm looking forward to spending the day painting.
The fireflies are waiting. Several holiday paintings are beginning to take shape.
And somewhere nearby, Tallulah (you’ll officially meet her in August) is undoubtedly preparing to supervise the entire operation.
Observations, Paint, Chickens, and Other Important Matters - A Note from Alfred
Good morning.
I have recently completed a formal inspection of the future Clucking Hill studio. Current conditions remain... optimistic.
The Artist insists that the stacks of boxes represent "potential." She points enthusiastically toward unfinished walls while describing classrooms, cozy reading corners, cheerful gatherings, and coffee that has not yet been brewed. I confess that, at first glance, I found this difficult to understand. However, I have also observed that gardens begin as bare soil, paintings begin as blank paper, and friendships begin with strangers.
Perhaps studios are much the same. They all appear to begin in the same way. Someone believes in them long before anyone else can see what they are becoming. The balloon flowers, I suspect, understood this long ago.
Until next month, I remain,
Alfred R. Hareington
Part-Time Naturalist, Full-Time Gentleman
