Boykin Portraits

 Meet Piper, my daughter's little brown dog and Scout, my husband's other lady. This breed is our iconic South Carolina Boykin Spaniel. Vivid eyes and textured curls wrap them in loveliness. Their willingness to please those they love is a vibe of innocence that never alters even with the progression of age. The breed are revered bird hunting magicians. Energy discharges in every jump as they fly over reeds and grass. Their bravado is catching high mid-air birds in feats that would make professional athletes jealous. Certainly, a Boykin could be made into a lap dog, but that would be an unnatural impediment to the innate design of the Little Brown Dog. Their joy comes from the hunt, the chase, and the seizure of the game.

    Here are few pics of the Boykins and one additional old fellow. Enjoy !

  "Piper"

"Piper"

"Scout"

Dogs that know commands are a breeze to shoot! Thanks Cole

"Scout"

"Coot"

Cock Your Hat, Angles are Attitude!! ...Sinatra

  I adore the eye candy we call a "Hat"...My grandmother gave me many that now adorn my wall. As a young girl, I would climb to the top of her mothball scented closet, and pull out the fine printed boxes tinted yellow with age. Climbing on my sister's shoulders, I dangled with one hand on the shelf and the other on one of those exquisitely huge boxes. Suddenly, all of the boxes and hats would topple out like bubblegum in a dimestore machine, and we'd scrounge to capture them all . My sister and I would covertly peek around the corner to make sure Grandma was engrossed in her chores. Unless "Days of our Lives" was airing, she was working. She would be cooking summer dinner (in the South that's lunch) for 15 or more who were coming in from the field. While her hands were in the biscuit dough, our hands were in her white elbow gloves. We would tiptoe with our arms piled with boxes into her pink-tiled bathroom. After primping for hours and using all her Hairnet, we lustily layered on the rouge. Do ladies still apply rouge? AnyHoo, finally we paraded in front of her sink-to-ceiling mirror in her mink hat or her pinky-orange straw hat.  Those hats fit me perfectly back then, but as I grew so did my big noggin, and now I can't wear many of those daintly little hats that fit Grandma Reba Margaret. Thus they hang along with the ones I've collected in my bathroom reminding me of her each time I primp. Hats are still a passion. I wear them, buy them, paint, and photograph others in them.

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Dearest Audrey could definately wear a hat.

Reminds me of grandmother's hats..Candy!!

 Hats are graceful, but the best hats sass. KSG*