Sorry about this long silence

The porcelain painting lessons were very enriching. But the traveling took a lot out of me. I am now convinced, that when you are ninety, you cannot do all that you want to do. I hate to think what my condition might have been, had I driven myself. Each time I returned home, I vegetated one whole day to get restored. Another reason for my absence from my computer is that there are so much sensational coverage of sports on the TV. Baseball continues. (Mariners are loosing too often, but if you are a real fan you continue hoping). Then the World Cup in soccer. And the basket ball is working toward the end of the year. And to day is the last day of the Open in golf. I am going to watch that as much as I can. And I want to begin a new project. I am going to try to do a small Panama type of embroidery of a few leaves and one or two flowers from the bush in my backyard. I hope I haven't waited too long.

EMDK managed to get a message to me, regarding the windmill in Viken. I am so grateful. She told me that Lindberg didn't come from Denmark. I knew that. But his ancestors came from Denmark. We read in the papers that he intended to visit the small village and every time we heard a plane flying overhead, we would search the sky to find the plane, and then we would say, That's Charles Lindberg going to Denmark to see his relatives. There were very few planes flying overhead in those days. But our imaginations were flying everywhere.

A very good friend from our Diablo days who had three children came back for me to remember how kind she was and how talented she was. Her son, who is an attorney, happened upon my blog and managed to get in touch with my son. He had found a portrait his mother had painted of him, and he wanted to come deliver it. And so I was invited for dinner when they touched base. It was wonderful getting caught up with them. We had lost touch when we moved to Laguna Beach. His parents had moved about the same time we did. So Christmas cards must have been lost. I have always wondered what happened. She was so talented and so unsure of her talent. I am sitting here looking at a huge bouquet of flowers, brought from the big outdoor market in Seattle. Thank you Tom.

New Adventure

Tomorrow I will go to Bainbridge Island for a series of lessons in Porcelain painting. In 1945 I took lessons in this subject in Sweden while I was waiting for Sam to come from Germany to join me. I painted the soup terrine (sp) and the tiles for a coffee table and a couple of lamps and smaller items. I have never found a way to have ware such as this fired and I felt taking lessons from this teacher whose work I really admire was the solution to finding these sources.

The classes are early in the fore noon so I have to leave here early in the morning. Luckily I don't have to drive for Gilbert and Chris will take me to Polsbo, more than half the way, and Anna will pick me up and take me to my destination. I am so lucky to have such co-operative relatives, for I am a little unsure of driving that far. The second class will be on Saturday and I will be spending the meantime with Anna and Steve and their new Blood Hound. I'm anxious to meet her, the dog, and to see all the new things in their house, such as a new kitchen and other alterations to their house.

And tomorrow night Anna and Steve have invited good friends of mine who moved from here to Bainbridge a couple of years ago, to come for dinner. That will be fun. Friday Anna and I will have some shopping to do. There is the most fantastic yarn store there.

Saturday is another class and then I will reverse my mode of travelling. A neighbor, Mary Fran has promised to check on my cat while I am gone.

A historical thing happened last week. Ken Griffey Jr retired from baseball. It made me very sad. I have shed a tear over a baseball player only once before. When Lou Gehrig gave his farewell speech in Yankey Stadium in the late 1930s or early forties, I shed many tears.

Windmills

I don't know if I ever talked about the windmill in my hometown. When I was little and sent by my mother to the bakery to buy a loaf of bread, I had to pass the windmill where the farmers were waiting in line to have their seeds milled into flour. In my earliest memories of this, they were accompanied by their horses who had pulled their wagons. Later they came in tractor pulled carts. There were huge round stones piled against the the wall. I think they are still there.

The reason I am bringing up the windmill is that someone sent a picture of a windmill in her tract in Denmark. If I knew how to do it I would include the photo she sent me. And I would write to my best friend in Sweden to get a picture of that wwindmill and ask all of you if you think they could have been built by the same builder.

My father's grandfather came from Denmark and settled in Viken. He built the windmill there and later became a shipbuilder. He named the windmill SOFIA. It is now restored to its full glory. They are raising money to keep it as an exhibit from the past. When we were in Sweden with Gilbert and his family we were given a tour and demonstration of how it worked in the olden days.

All I know is that his name was Lindberg and that he came from vaguely the same area of Denmark that Charles Lindberg came from. Now I would like to get news of who built that Danish windmill, when it was built and is it identical to the one in Viken. I will let you know if I solve this interesting story.