It has been decided

Thank you all for voting on my blog. The result of the vote was stunning. Not a single NO vote. And so many YES votes. A humbling experience. I have chosen my new carpet. I have the blessings of the director of our home office. Now I have to set a date with the carpet people.

I am teaching a class on Oct 16. I am so nervous about being able to do it. Two people are coming from Southern California, one from Bainbridge Island and the rest from Port Angeles and Sequim.  The subject of the class is FAKE IT IN FABRIC. I have to tell you how the name came about. I may have told you sometime in the past. A good friend was visiting in Washington D.C. She and her husband went to an art show and saw among other things a painting by Matisse called ' Lady with flowers. She bought a postcard depicting that Matisse. When I received it I remember what a horrible feeling filled me. 'No matter what happens between now and my final days, I will never be able to own a painting like that'. It was something like greed and avarice that filled me. I remember I was in the middle af a daily chore when my husband handed me the card. And I was ashamed of the way I felt. And then I told myself 'I'LL MAKE ONE'.

I went into my sewing room, looked for suitable fabrics and began my new art form. Trial and error and beginning over and over again I finally finished the work. And for some reason I was as happy as if I really had a Matisse in my possession. It proved that it was not the hundred or so millions I was craving, it was the beautiful scene of lovely colors and perfect composition that appealed to me. I have made many others but none has filled me with happiness the way that first one did.

A short, short visit

Anna and her friend Dana came from Bainbridge Island yesterday morning. We met at a breakfast place, finished early, and they went to the house on the beach to pick up a piece of furniture that Dana had bought during my garage sale. I drove as fast as was legal for an appointment with my dermatologist. I walked in and was seen at ten sharp and at ten-o-five was told not to worry, I did not have the bad kind of cancer on my arm. (We have been told so many times that when a spot on the skin changes and gets an irregular edge, go to the doctor.) Good news.

I now have another question that is worrying me. In a totally different area. Where I live, a wonderful beautiful place, management made a huge mistake when they readied my cottage for a new inhabitant. They ordered new carpeting throughout the place. The cheapest stuff on the market. It is awful. Every footprint shows and it is always soiled looking. My friend down the lane and I have compared notes, and she has now replaced everything in her cottage. When I saw the change, I was astounded. The comfort of the better kind of carpeting is huge.

But there is a distinct difference between us. She is in her early or middle seventies and could now be living there for twenty more years. I am ninety, or nearly ninety one, and I may have a much much shorter time. Should I spend that much money on a new carpet? There ore lots of people with nothing but mud under foot. I will ask my financial advisor if he thinks I can afford it, but he cannot advice me on my sense of right or wrong. I could ask my four children to vote on what I should do. 

Writing this blog has changed my mind. I will let you, my readers vote on yes or no. I know I can take it out of my saved up living expenses. Please all of you comment on this problem.

Some ups and some downs

My life is getting too hectic. I rejoined a Book Club I used to belong to many years ago. The reason I left the club was that so often I had not read the book by the time we met to discuss it. The reason was that my mother had told me, often, that 'we don't read in the daytime'. When I went to bed I always began reading whatever was current, and as soon as I opened the book, I fell asleep. Now I can read as much as I want in the daytime. 

Today was the first meeting of the season for the book club. After this there will be nine more meetings and then the summer is free. Today was spent picking the books we will read these nine months. Several I have already read and the rest of the list is fun to look forward to. I will tell all of you what the books are later.

The reason I mentioned the word hectic is that I am going to teach a class titled FAKE IT IN FABRICS. I wake up in the middle of the night asking myself 'how will I handle that problem'. And then I lie there trying to solve it all. Luckily the class will be small. Two people will arrive from California, Two from Bainbridge Island, and the rest of the group live here in the environs. The date is October 16 and I can't afford to loose all that sleep. I will try to copy Scarlet O'Hara and say to myself, 'I will worry about that tomorrow. 

First day of school

I remember the very first day of school, when I was seven years old. The year was 1927. I was surprised the other day, when I read a story comparing Education in various countries, when I saw that beginning School is still when you are seven in Sweden.

My first day was wonderful. First the smell in the class room. I have often wondered what it was that smelled so promising. Was it coming from the pencil sharpeners, or was from the black surface on the floors.

 Somewhere in a drawer I have a picture of our first class. Most of us looked scared but my face showed no fear. Froken Andersson, our teacher, looked happy to be there. She was old. Now that I am ninety, it seems wrong to say she was old. I know she was under 65 for that was when people were pensioned. And I know she taught many years after my one year stint in her class. So maybe she was in her fifties. 

We had a small class. I remember a girl whose name was Gerd. Her father was something like a coast guard. She was next to the youngest in her family of many children. It was before the birth of Kleenex and the poor girl had a nose that needed one, but she had learned how to keep whatever was happening to herself. She had to keep her mouth open so she could breathe. I think it held her back. There was one of the Petterson girls. Stina, Brita and Greta. I don't remember which one was in my class for all three of them became friends through the years. Their father was a carpenter. Their mother must have been a seamstress for they all had cute clothes. The school was located on the main street of Viken. Our entrance was from the back of the building, but the teachers living quarters had an entry from the main street. Next door to the south was a clock maker's store. His name was Holm and he was a very dapper gentleman. Next door to the clockmaker was the 'smidga' The horses went there to get re-shoed. 

I knew how to read before the first day of school. I think I must credit my sister Birgit with that.