Yesterday I went to our Farmer's Market to check out the hats that I spoke of when the bicycle ladies were here. There were no hats to my liking. (We just had a week-long meeting of ESPRIT, a convention for cross dressers, and no doubt they bought all the good ones) I had dreaded going there, for they are in a new place in town and I didn't know where to park and I didn't know how many stairs I would encounter. I drove around looking for a parking place and there were none on the street. So I went into a little alley below the building and found that there was an outdoor elevator taking you up to where the action is. And even better for my next visit, there is handicap parking even closer to the elevator.
So I looked around for the hat department. There sat a lady working on some llama yarn. She was not carding or spinning, she was melding two colors of the yarn and making it into a ball for future sale. So I asked her if she had been coming to the Port Angeles Farmer's Market for long. Did you come when it was held on eight street? She said yes. Did you ever have a basket with kittens? She said yes, many times. In 1998 I got one of your kittens. Oh, are you the lady who came after the funeral of your husband? I said yes. And my cat is still alive and healthy and I love him so much. We laughed and she said 'I have to get a hug.'
I did not remember what she looked like in 1998 but the whole setting was so similar.
To Em in DK. Are you in one of the Dakotas or are you in Denmark? Glad to know there are Salmon berries in your area. I think they got that name because the berries are salmon colored. Sorry to say I have no pictures of my water colors. I think 1% of my attempts have been successful. Most of my tries have been small scale, cards and such.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Condition
I am speaking now of my condition. I feel happy about several Salmon Berry bushes in full bloom that I have to pass every time I am on my way to my garage. And I am equally thrilled when I open my curtains in the morning. Every time I have to go to the grocery store I pick a small bloom with a couple of buds and they last on my kitchen counter two or two and a half days. I am promising myself that I will paint a watercolor of the bush or at least a card of the single one sitting on the counter. Watercolors are difficult to paint for it is such a fleeting time one has to accomplish anything. I promise myself TOMORROW. If I dawdle too long I will have to live until next year when they bloom again. I am such a coward.
My own condition has been a sorry story. I don't think I told you about having to go to the dentist a couple of weeks ago. I had a tooth way back in the rear of my mouth that had at one time suffered a root canal. About four or five years ago that tooth broke off about level with my gum. As time passed this loss caused pain in my jaw joint. So I had to use pain medicine. I took two extra strength Tylenal every morning and two every evening. It made my life tolerable but unbeknownst to me, it totally threw off my blood-thinning treatment and suddenly that had to be re-arranged. What a nuisance. I should not complain for I have been lucky as far as health is concerned.
My good friend Toni, came for a visit. I told you about her fabulous gifts while she was here. Yellow orchids, a bottle of rum from her home Island in the Virgin Islands, a wonderful dinner at our best Mexican restaurant and it goes on and on. And then I got a large envelop with probably 15 American stamps. In it a beautiful embroidery from the Panama area. I love the work they are famous for and I am going to try to copy that. It will not be a native American sort of pattern. Maybe I can try to make a Salmon berry pattern. I will let you know what develops. Thank you Toni.
My own condition has been a sorry story. I don't think I told you about having to go to the dentist a couple of weeks ago. I had a tooth way back in the rear of my mouth that had at one time suffered a root canal. About four or five years ago that tooth broke off about level with my gum. As time passed this loss caused pain in my jaw joint. So I had to use pain medicine. I took two extra strength Tylenal every morning and two every evening. It made my life tolerable but unbeknownst to me, it totally threw off my blood-thinning treatment and suddenly that had to be re-arranged. What a nuisance. I should not complain for I have been lucky as far as health is concerned.
My good friend Toni, came for a visit. I told you about her fabulous gifts while she was here. Yellow orchids, a bottle of rum from her home Island in the Virgin Islands, a wonderful dinner at our best Mexican restaurant and it goes on and on. And then I got a large envelop with probably 15 American stamps. In it a beautiful embroidery from the Panama area. I love the work they are famous for and I am going to try to copy that. It will not be a native American sort of pattern. Maybe I can try to make a Salmon berry pattern. I will let you know what develops. Thank you Toni.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Read Cassie's comments
I read Cassie's comments several times and I felt I received a history lesson. It is so well written and so sympathetic to the cause and yet so opposite from the way I think. If the Latinas who moved to Arizona were treated the same way I was treated when I first arrived, they would feel at home and would return to Mexico just to see old friends and relatives.
I told earlier about a trip Sam and I took to Mexico. On a train. The train left San Francisco and went to El Paso via Los Angeles. We had tiny bedrooms but ate food that was like food from the best San Francisco restaurants. Our American crew left the train when we crossed into Mexico at El Paso. The chef remained on board but he was a tourist like the rest of us. I wish I knew how to find were I discussed this trip. I think I will google Copper Canyon and see what happens. See you later.
Tried it , but found nothing about our trip. There were thirty to forty passengers on the train. Our cars were attached to the Mexican locomotives and sometimes we had to sit and wait for what seemed hours for a train to come to haul us to our next destination. When we came to big cities the train would wait for us at the station so we could check into a hotel to do our bathing and shampooing. And our sight-seeing. I think we stayed in Mexico City for five days. After that stop we headed for Mayan Country were we saw the pyramids. And we also got to see how the people lived there. Our guide took us to his home and showed how all members of his family slept in 'hangmattor' (sometimes I search in every nook and cranny in my brain for the right word in english and in this case it has taken over 24 hours and it refuses to turn up.) If I had a pencil I could have shown you what I mean.
When we waited for a long time to get going I would sit on the steps of our carriage and soon a child would arrive, curious about a rain stopping just there. I would do a quick drawing of the beautiful face, tear off the drawing to give the child, and as soon as he or she scampered off, there would be ten more waiting. If there was any pushing, or getting out of line, one of our porters would quietly restore order. By the time our train left that spot, there would be hundreds of faces waiting and two hundreds of big black eyes looking disappointed. What beautiful people they were.
I told earlier about a trip Sam and I took to Mexico. On a train. The train left San Francisco and went to El Paso via Los Angeles. We had tiny bedrooms but ate food that was like food from the best San Francisco restaurants. Our American crew left the train when we crossed into Mexico at El Paso. The chef remained on board but he was a tourist like the rest of us. I wish I knew how to find were I discussed this trip. I think I will google Copper Canyon and see what happens. See you later.
Tried it , but found nothing about our trip. There were thirty to forty passengers on the train. Our cars were attached to the Mexican locomotives and sometimes we had to sit and wait for what seemed hours for a train to come to haul us to our next destination. When we came to big cities the train would wait for us at the station so we could check into a hotel to do our bathing and shampooing. And our sight-seeing. I think we stayed in Mexico City for five days. After that stop we headed for Mayan Country were we saw the pyramids. And we also got to see how the people lived there. Our guide took us to his home and showed how all members of his family slept in 'hangmattor' (sometimes I search in every nook and cranny in my brain for the right word in english and in this case it has taken over 24 hours and it refuses to turn up.) If I had a pencil I could have shown you what I mean.
When we waited for a long time to get going I would sit on the steps of our carriage and soon a child would arrive, curious about a rain stopping just there. I would do a quick drawing of the beautiful face, tear off the drawing to give the child, and as soon as he or she scampered off, there would be ten more waiting. If there was any pushing, or getting out of line, one of our porters would quietly restore order. By the time our train left that spot, there would be hundreds of faces waiting and two hundreds of big black eyes looking disappointed. What beautiful people they were.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Another fabulous weekend
Friday Anna had eight of her bicycle friends for a sleep-over at Gilbert's house. (G is back in Colorado) All, except one, were recipients of the socks that I told abut earlier. All of the ladies slept in sleeping bags in the master bedroom. with the door open, protected from a sea lion invasion* only by the screen door. They did not know about this danger until the following evening.
After breakfast the whole gang arrived at my place. It was so much fun seeing them again. All of them came to Anna's and my birthday party, and they had spent the night with me while the house was mine a couple of times earlier. So I feel very close to them. They spent a couple of hours here and then the gang broke up. Most of them went biking at Lake Crescent and the other group went shopping. A Holland American cruise ship was in town, which was an awesome sight. All the merchants were behaving as if it was a common occasion hoping all tourists would come back again. Two of our ladies bought hats at the Farmer's Market. Hats knitted in wool and then boiled. They were good looking hats and cost only forty dollars. (I am buying one next Saturday)
That evening I was invited by them to have dinner. Even had pick-up service so I could have a drink there. The drink was impressive. Even had a parasol in it. A Margarita. The food was impressive too. Leg of lamb, roasted potatoes and a huge salad. For dessert we had chocolate ice cream with a wonderful sauce. Some people put salt on it. We sat at the table talking for a long time after dinner.
In the afternoon I had a long conversation with Jane, my third daughter. I told her how tiresome older people are, so self-
involved and so insistent on talking about themselves. She jokingly said PUT A SOCK IN IT. We laughed, but I went looking for a sock to take with me in the evening. I used it a couple of times but everyone at the table said, no we want to hear about your life and your adventures. It turns out, that among the eight people there, Anna is the only one who still has a mother. So I will adopt the other seven.
*Maria, who lives down the street came over to see what was going on in Gilbert's house. There were four cars in his driveway. She also told of the sea lions who have invaded their house. Four baby lions and a non-lactating female live under their deck. And they smell so awful it is difficult to remain in the house. Gilbert was notified of this and he said he had it checked before he left and there is nothing under his house.
After breakfast the whole gang arrived at my place. It was so much fun seeing them again. All of them came to Anna's and my birthday party, and they had spent the night with me while the house was mine a couple of times earlier. So I feel very close to them. They spent a couple of hours here and then the gang broke up. Most of them went biking at Lake Crescent and the other group went shopping. A Holland American cruise ship was in town, which was an awesome sight. All the merchants were behaving as if it was a common occasion hoping all tourists would come back again. Two of our ladies bought hats at the Farmer's Market. Hats knitted in wool and then boiled. They were good looking hats and cost only forty dollars. (I am buying one next Saturday)
That evening I was invited by them to have dinner. Even had pick-up service so I could have a drink there. The drink was impressive. Even had a parasol in it. A Margarita. The food was impressive too. Leg of lamb, roasted potatoes and a huge salad. For dessert we had chocolate ice cream with a wonderful sauce. Some people put salt on it. We sat at the table talking for a long time after dinner.
In the afternoon I had a long conversation with Jane, my third daughter. I told her how tiresome older people are, so self-
involved and so insistent on talking about themselves. She jokingly said PUT A SOCK IN IT. We laughed, but I went looking for a sock to take with me in the evening. I used it a couple of times but everyone at the table said, no we want to hear about your life and your adventures. It turns out, that among the eight people there, Anna is the only one who still has a mother. So I will adopt the other seven.
*Maria, who lives down the street came over to see what was going on in Gilbert's house. There were four cars in his driveway. She also told of the sea lions who have invaded their house. Four baby lions and a non-lactating female live under their deck. And they smell so awful it is difficult to remain in the house. Gilbert was notified of this and he said he had it checked before he left and there is nothing under his house.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Night time radio
Last night I woke up at 2.30 and my radio was tuned in to KGO in San Francisco as usual. I always listen for a while to John Rothman when I first go to bed. Sometimes for hours, sometimes I can't remember a word he said for I was tired enough to go to sleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. That's what happened last night. And then I woke up too early and listened to Ray Thaliafero until five am when I got up to take a shower .
What I heard Ray say upset me SO much. He was correct but I never heard it before and it is true what he said. The discussion was about the governor of Arizona. Her latest edict is that there can be no studies in public schools about black or Mexican traditions. A man had called in saying: My parents came from Italy. They came legally, became citizens, and led fruitful lives. Why can't the Mexicans do the same? Ray said 'where your parents black?' No they were Italians. 'What color were they?' They were Italians. 'Were they brown? No they were Italians. Were they yellow? No they were white. Ah, they had no trouble getting to be citizens. Read up on our history and see what happened to the first chinese who came here. They were used to build our rail roads and then could not become citizens nor could they buy Real Estate. And how did the blacks get here. They were shipped in to become slaves. And how long before they could become citizens. And how long before they could ride the buses or eat in our restaurant? And what about the mexicans? When they come across the border because they want to earn money to send home, they work in the fields and live in sub standard housing, and get sub standard pay.
This is what I remember from this nocturnal conversation. I can not get this out of my mind. And what have I done during my ninety year long life to ease or help anyone so unfortunate. I remember paying a woman twice what she charged for doing my laundry in Georgia. She charged quarters and I paid her dollars. I did not have any money for we were paid $60 a month and our room and board, but her charge was ridiculous and she picked up and delivered. That is a tiny thing to put on my grave stone.
Maybe one other thing could be put there also. I never allowed anyone to use the N word in my presence. Even my step father-in-law. We were sitting at the dinner table in HIS house and he used it. I said I will eat in the kitchen if you must use that word. He never did it again and we had a fine relationship while Sam was overseas. But ninety years. I could have done more.
Maybe, one scary day when I had to drive around the Los Angeles area to find a town were we would like to move. The free ways were new to me. I was in Long Beach I think, when I saw a huge building in the distance and discovered that it was Sears.
I stopped and went in to ask were I could have a cup of coffee. They sent me to the seventh floor I think. I got a cup and looked around to see where I could sit. There were not many people there. I saw a table with a teenage boy and asked if i may sit. He nodded. Then I tried to start a conversation and realized he spoke no English. That was fun for me for I had had four lessons at the famous language school in New York. I tried and tried. Finally I made out that he was going to go to work someplace. I asked him about School and he hung his head and said no dinero. I said save money and later and he just got sadder and sadder. I had never seen anybody so without hope. I've never forgotten him. I hope now he is rich and honest .
What I heard Ray say upset me SO much. He was correct but I never heard it before and it is true what he said. The discussion was about the governor of Arizona. Her latest edict is that there can be no studies in public schools about black or Mexican traditions. A man had called in saying: My parents came from Italy. They came legally, became citizens, and led fruitful lives. Why can't the Mexicans do the same? Ray said 'where your parents black?' No they were Italians. 'What color were they?' They were Italians. 'Were they brown? No they were Italians. Were they yellow? No they were white. Ah, they had no trouble getting to be citizens. Read up on our history and see what happened to the first chinese who came here. They were used to build our rail roads and then could not become citizens nor could they buy Real Estate. And how did the blacks get here. They were shipped in to become slaves. And how long before they could become citizens. And how long before they could ride the buses or eat in our restaurant? And what about the mexicans? When they come across the border because they want to earn money to send home, they work in the fields and live in sub standard housing, and get sub standard pay.
This is what I remember from this nocturnal conversation. I can not get this out of my mind. And what have I done during my ninety year long life to ease or help anyone so unfortunate. I remember paying a woman twice what she charged for doing my laundry in Georgia. She charged quarters and I paid her dollars. I did not have any money for we were paid $60 a month and our room and board, but her charge was ridiculous and she picked up and delivered. That is a tiny thing to put on my grave stone.
Maybe one other thing could be put there also. I never allowed anyone to use the N word in my presence. Even my step father-in-law. We were sitting at the dinner table in HIS house and he used it. I said I will eat in the kitchen if you must use that word. He never did it again and we had a fine relationship while Sam was overseas. But ninety years. I could have done more.
Maybe, one scary day when I had to drive around the Los Angeles area to find a town were we would like to move. The free ways were new to me. I was in Long Beach I think, when I saw a huge building in the distance and discovered that it was Sears.
I stopped and went in to ask were I could have a cup of coffee. They sent me to the seventh floor I think. I got a cup and looked around to see where I could sit. There were not many people there. I saw a table with a teenage boy and asked if i may sit. He nodded. Then I tried to start a conversation and realized he spoke no English. That was fun for me for I had had four lessons at the famous language school in New York. I tried and tried. Finally I made out that he was going to go to work someplace. I asked him about School and he hung his head and said no dinero. I said save money and later and he just got sadder and sadder. I had never seen anybody so without hope. I've never forgotten him. I hope now he is rich and honest .
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Weekend number 2 plus
I forgot to tell of all the wonderful things that came my way last weekend.
Anna brought a gift bag that had something strange in it. I had to guess and my first guess, because it had a long handle sticking up, was that it had to be a musical instrument. The weight of it made it impossible to think it was something intimate.I took too long to guess, so it was revealed. It was a ten foot coiled hose with a long handle to irrigate all the flowers and herbs on my little 'deck'. Anna went out to water at once and discovered that a ten foot hose with a long handle would not reach from the farthest corner where the source of the water came from to the side where most of my herbs are. And so Anna went back to the store and got the next length in hose. I can now get baskets for hanging. no way I could have reached to water before.
And I got a book and a card from Martha about food. Michael Pollan's FOOD RULES. Amusing short little thoughts about our new rules. Enjoyed the one that said 'thank you to mother who would not let us eat margarine'. Martha also sent a magazine called WRITER'S DIGEST and page 54 WRITING ADVICE and out of 16 advice blogs there is one called PLOT WHISPERERS FOR WRITERS AND READERS 'The always inspiring Martha Alderson helps you tackle your plot problems' What a great gift. I always feel she is inspiring.
And then Toni brought me a magazine Spring 2010 AMERICAN ARTIST. There are 8 pages about Toni and illustrations showing her paintings. Since I gave her her first water color set when she was a little girl, and painting lessons it made me feel warm and happy. Toni also gave me an orchid with yellow flowers and a bottle of rum that came from her island in the Carrebean.
There was more, but Edgar is sitting outside the front door asking to come in.
Anna brought a gift bag that had something strange in it. I had to guess and my first guess, because it had a long handle sticking up, was that it had to be a musical instrument. The weight of it made it impossible to think it was something intimate.I took too long to guess, so it was revealed. It was a ten foot coiled hose with a long handle to irrigate all the flowers and herbs on my little 'deck'. Anna went out to water at once and discovered that a ten foot hose with a long handle would not reach from the farthest corner where the source of the water came from to the side where most of my herbs are. And so Anna went back to the store and got the next length in hose. I can now get baskets for hanging. no way I could have reached to water before.
And I got a book and a card from Martha about food. Michael Pollan's FOOD RULES. Amusing short little thoughts about our new rules. Enjoyed the one that said 'thank you to mother who would not let us eat margarine'. Martha also sent a magazine called WRITER'S DIGEST and page 54 WRITING ADVICE and out of 16 advice blogs there is one called PLOT WHISPERERS FOR WRITERS AND READERS 'The always inspiring Martha Alderson helps you tackle your plot problems' What a great gift. I always feel she is inspiring.
And then Toni brought me a magazine Spring 2010 AMERICAN ARTIST. There are 8 pages about Toni and illustrations showing her paintings. Since I gave her her first water color set when she was a little girl, and painting lessons it made me feel warm and happy. Toni also gave me an orchid with yellow flowers and a bottle of rum that came from her island in the Carrebean.
There was more, but Edgar is sitting outside the front door asking to come in.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Weekend number 2
If you would like a Willie Mays quote, read the comment Kin Gordon left on the last blog titled Weekend. Kin is a friend from long ago and I am so happy to have heard from him again. Do any of you remember our trip to Mexico at Thanksgiving time the same year we moved to Laguna Beach. Trip was the four or five year old who bought a five dollar watch from a street vendor and was so proud of having a watch, that he asked constantly for someone to ask him 'What time is it'. And when we crossed the border on our way home, the watch stopped. Kin Gordon is his older brother, and a finer person you will never find.
Mother's Day weekend was eventful. It began on Thursday. A friend from early Laguna Beach who now lives in the United States Virgin Islands and Anna and I met for lunch at John Wayne Marina for lunch. We spent hours remembering our close friendship in Laguna. Toni was the young girl who lived next door to us. She spent a lot of time in our house learning about drawing and later about Water Colors. She is the one who came along to harvest green tomatoes when I needed a super-tireing job to get over our sad loss of Schotzie, our miniature Dachshund. We picked what seemed a ton of tomatoes and I had to pickle them the next day. It, or Toni saved my sanity that day.
Back to Thursday, I had shopped earlier that morning. I bought fish rolled up with crab and oysters and aspargus and on my way to the register I thought 'What if she does not eat fish'. So I went back and bought three steaks and sweet potatoes. And fruit for dessert. Luckily she loved fish, so I had enough for two dinners. Saturday Toni took us out for dinner at a Mexican restaurant. And we needed a huge dinner Saturday, for Anna and Toni drove West to a place where you can look for concretions. Absolutely round rocks, some as small as a thimble and others as big as a baseball. I sat in the car reading a book for there was a lot of climbing that my knee cannot tolerate. It was a successful hunt for they found many, many. I wonder how it went at the airport when they found all the rocks.
The art show on Friday evening was uneventful. I have a few people who would like to be told when I have another session of classes in FAKE IT IN FABRICS. And I met some fascinating people. And I had my first Chocolate Martini. Yum.
Sunday Toni and Anna left early so Toni could catch an early ferry so she would get to the airport on time. I had been overdoing it so I spent Mother's Day in my PJs and answered phone calls from family and friends and today Monday I feel full of energy again. So I went to Mc Donald's and had a hamburger and a hot coffee and chocolate drink that I had seen on an ad on television. It was forgetable but I am glad I did it.
Mother's Day weekend was eventful. It began on Thursday. A friend from early Laguna Beach who now lives in the United States Virgin Islands and Anna and I met for lunch at John Wayne Marina for lunch. We spent hours remembering our close friendship in Laguna. Toni was the young girl who lived next door to us. She spent a lot of time in our house learning about drawing and later about Water Colors. She is the one who came along to harvest green tomatoes when I needed a super-tireing job to get over our sad loss of Schotzie, our miniature Dachshund. We picked what seemed a ton of tomatoes and I had to pickle them the next day. It, or Toni saved my sanity that day.
Back to Thursday, I had shopped earlier that morning. I bought fish rolled up with crab and oysters and aspargus and on my way to the register I thought 'What if she does not eat fish'. So I went back and bought three steaks and sweet potatoes. And fruit for dessert. Luckily she loved fish, so I had enough for two dinners. Saturday Toni took us out for dinner at a Mexican restaurant. And we needed a huge dinner Saturday, for Anna and Toni drove West to a place where you can look for concretions. Absolutely round rocks, some as small as a thimble and others as big as a baseball. I sat in the car reading a book for there was a lot of climbing that my knee cannot tolerate. It was a successful hunt for they found many, many. I wonder how it went at the airport when they found all the rocks.
The art show on Friday evening was uneventful. I have a few people who would like to be told when I have another session of classes in FAKE IT IN FABRICS. And I met some fascinating people. And I had my first Chocolate Martini. Yum.
Sunday Toni and Anna left early so Toni could catch an early ferry so she would get to the airport on time. I had been overdoing it so I spent Mother's Day in my PJs and answered phone calls from family and friends and today Monday I feel full of energy again. So I went to Mc Donald's and had a hamburger and a hot coffee and chocolate drink that I had seen on an ad on television. It was forgetable but I am glad I did it.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Weekend
I had an unusual weekend. I had nothing planned except Mariners baseball and reading my heavy Willie Mays book.
On saturday the phone rang and a woman said that she, her husband and a couple from Sweden had run into someone who said that he knew a ninety year old Swedish woman who would love to practice her Swedish with someone. It was confusing for me too. I said, yes I would love to speak my old language with someone. The person who called put her Swedish friend on the line and we chatted for a while. And it was good to hear and the person came from the province next to the one I was born in. I came from Skane and the person on the phone lives in Smaland. Where Orrefors glass comes from. It was a short, interesting little interlude and I went back to my book
Sunday I was in the bathroom cleaning Edgar's cat box. The phone rang and by the time I made it to the phone it had stopped ringing. And so eventually I went back to my book with the game in the background. (they lost the third game in a row) It was nice to read about a sixteen inning game pitched by Warren Spahn and Juan Marichal at Candlestick Park and Willie Mays finally hit a home run and won the game. I drew a happy sigh. There was a knock on the door and I called out COME IN. And there were the four people I mentioned earlier. They had tried to call and got no answer. They were on their way to Walmart to buy a bathing suit and decided to stop in.
My little living room filled up and it was a lovely time for me. Everything that had been confusing the day before on the phone turned into a lovely interlude. Four of the nicest people made my day. The Swedish gentleman is here to attend a convention of international importance. It begins today in Seattle and it deals with the future of the sources of power for the world. They all saw the photo of our four children meeting the King of Sweden and apparently the King's granddaughter is also attending the convention. If he had the chance he would tell her about the story of Anna sending her letter when she was a little girl inviting the King for 'tea or coca cola'.
And then when we were in my bedroom looking at a FAKE IT IN FABRICS his wife said, I love your art. And I have mine. It is my voice. And I mentioned a song my mother used to sing, about a bird that sat in the evening in the uppermost treetop saying
'Ive sung all day long but not sung enough. She then sang a song about a bird in the most powerful, beautiful voice that I will never forget. Even if I live to be a hundred, I will never forget her. We changed addresses and I know we will keep intouch by mail. What a great day!
On saturday the phone rang and a woman said that she, her husband and a couple from Sweden had run into someone who said that he knew a ninety year old Swedish woman who would love to practice her Swedish with someone. It was confusing for me too. I said, yes I would love to speak my old language with someone. The person who called put her Swedish friend on the line and we chatted for a while. And it was good to hear and the person came from the province next to the one I was born in. I came from Skane and the person on the phone lives in Smaland. Where Orrefors glass comes from. It was a short, interesting little interlude and I went back to my book
Sunday I was in the bathroom cleaning Edgar's cat box. The phone rang and by the time I made it to the phone it had stopped ringing. And so eventually I went back to my book with the game in the background. (they lost the third game in a row) It was nice to read about a sixteen inning game pitched by Warren Spahn and Juan Marichal at Candlestick Park and Willie Mays finally hit a home run and won the game. I drew a happy sigh. There was a knock on the door and I called out COME IN. And there were the four people I mentioned earlier. They had tried to call and got no answer. They were on their way to Walmart to buy a bathing suit and decided to stop in.
My little living room filled up and it was a lovely time for me. Everything that had been confusing the day before on the phone turned into a lovely interlude. Four of the nicest people made my day. The Swedish gentleman is here to attend a convention of international importance. It begins today in Seattle and it deals with the future of the sources of power for the world. They all saw the photo of our four children meeting the King of Sweden and apparently the King's granddaughter is also attending the convention. If he had the chance he would tell her about the story of Anna sending her letter when she was a little girl inviting the King for 'tea or coca cola'.
And then when we were in my bedroom looking at a FAKE IT IN FABRICS his wife said, I love your art. And I have mine. It is my voice. And I mentioned a song my mother used to sing, about a bird that sat in the evening in the uppermost treetop saying
'Ive sung all day long but not sung enough. She then sang a song about a bird in the most powerful, beautiful voice that I will never forget. Even if I live to be a hundred, I will never forget her. We changed addresses and I know we will keep intouch by mail. What a great day!
Friday, April 23, 2010
Art Show
A store in down town PA has asked me to exhibit paintings and examples of my FAKE IT IN FABRICS during the Art Walk early in June.
I was asked to send a bio and I have had many difficult moments trying to figure out what to send. Every time I would begin it sounded as though I was writing another blog. So it will be my new blog.
I think they want me to show a couple of paintings and mostly concentrate on FAKE IT IN FABRICS. I have made several Matisses, a couple of Van Goghs and many other lesser artists in that media. I gave a class at the PA senior center that was successful for me and for the persons in the class. I have been asked to have another class and before summer I hope to have another one, with two people coming from California to attend.
Anna is supposed to act as my agent and it is a learning time for her, as it is for me. I will offer to do a FAKE IT IN FABRICS for anyone who would be satisfied with a FAKE. It will be expensive but I can guarantee it will cost a lot less than the original.
We have a Yacht building company, or maybe two, in PA. One of the companies built a half a million dollar yacht named Vango. We saw it out in the Straight being tested before it left our waters. There was a story in our daily paper which claimed that the name of the yacht came from the fact that they could not afford an original Van Gogh. I was so tempted to ask the designer who did the interior of the yacht if he would show the owners my Van Gogh done in FAKE IT IN FABRIC. I, of course, lost my nerve.
While working on this I have managed to send a bio which is adequate with, when did I start painting, where have I exhibited, with whom did I study, and who shaved my grandfather. Wish me luck.
I was asked to send a bio and I have had many difficult moments trying to figure out what to send. Every time I would begin it sounded as though I was writing another blog. So it will be my new blog.
I think they want me to show a couple of paintings and mostly concentrate on FAKE IT IN FABRICS. I have made several Matisses, a couple of Van Goghs and many other lesser artists in that media. I gave a class at the PA senior center that was successful for me and for the persons in the class. I have been asked to have another class and before summer I hope to have another one, with two people coming from California to attend.
Anna is supposed to act as my agent and it is a learning time for her, as it is for me. I will offer to do a FAKE IT IN FABRICS for anyone who would be satisfied with a FAKE. It will be expensive but I can guarantee it will cost a lot less than the original.
We have a Yacht building company, or maybe two, in PA. One of the companies built a half a million dollar yacht named Vango. We saw it out in the Straight being tested before it left our waters. There was a story in our daily paper which claimed that the name of the yacht came from the fact that they could not afford an original Van Gogh. I was so tempted to ask the designer who did the interior of the yacht if he would show the owners my Van Gogh done in FAKE IT IN FABRIC. I, of course, lost my nerve.
While working on this I have managed to send a bio which is adequate with, when did I start painting, where have I exhibited, with whom did I study, and who shaved my grandfather. Wish me luck.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Dr Blemer
This name was mentioned before, long ago, but I do not remember in what capacity. When we moved to Port Angeles one of my first errands was getting a library card. The library was nearly a hundred years old and not in very good shape. Most of all, it was an exceedingly ugly building, for many years ago it had needed more space and a new addition was hiding the lovely original building. The friends of the library needed new members and it was a fun group to work with. We raised between one thousand and two thousand dollars every year on a book sale which lasted over the weekend. It was hard back breaking work and most of us were more than spring chickens.
One day while sorting books, I found a book that dealt with Dr Blemer and his famous house keeper.
First I have to mention that Dr Blemer graduated from the medical school at Mc Gill University and in his senior year he was voted the most likely to succeed. He, however, married a wealthy woman who belonged to a Christian Science Church. After I knew him, he worked from 5AM to 10.30AM, seeing mostly farmers who came in from the country side and me with my chronically infected throat. I the afternoons he played golf. When he was needed for a huge accident of some sort he always behaved heroically. He also helped me with Martha and her speech problem.
And so, twenty five years later, I find this book in Port Angeles, dealing with Dr Blemer. It seems that he and his wife had given the escaped "trunk murderer' Winnie Ruth Judd a job as a house keeper. She had a car registered in her name and when a murder occurred in Danville all strangers were suspect. Her relative had borrowed her car, the Highway Patrol stopped him and found the name Winnie Ruth Judd on the papers in the car and all of a sudden she was in trouble again. She was declared not guilty and the murder of a Psychiatrist's wife was never solved. The murdered woman who was shot in their patio early on morning was an aquaintance of mine when we lived in Diablo. A friend of mine and I were invited to lunch with her on the patio where she later was murdered. We did get to see fabulous paintings by French Masters hanging in her house.
Sam and I were happy to have left Southern California where we had never really felt at home. We lived in a virtual paradise, with the most breathtaking view of the ocean. We had tennis and swimming daily as a possibility. We had two couples who were dear friends and we did many things with them, such as playing bridge, playing tennis going to Palm Springs for golf etc. Suddenly both couples went through divorces, and Sam an I felt harmed by them too. Both men had philandered and possibly the younger of the men felt he had permission to do the same after the news came out about the older one. These were both men of quality, we thought, one a Superior Court Judge and the other a professor at UCI. We were devastated and felt as cheated on as the wives did.
One day while sorting books, I found a book that dealt with Dr Blemer and his famous house keeper.
First I have to mention that Dr Blemer graduated from the medical school at Mc Gill University and in his senior year he was voted the most likely to succeed. He, however, married a wealthy woman who belonged to a Christian Science Church. After I knew him, he worked from 5AM to 10.30AM, seeing mostly farmers who came in from the country side and me with my chronically infected throat. I the afternoons he played golf. When he was needed for a huge accident of some sort he always behaved heroically. He also helped me with Martha and her speech problem.
And so, twenty five years later, I find this book in Port Angeles, dealing with Dr Blemer. It seems that he and his wife had given the escaped "trunk murderer' Winnie Ruth Judd a job as a house keeper. She had a car registered in her name and when a murder occurred in Danville all strangers were suspect. Her relative had borrowed her car, the Highway Patrol stopped him and found the name Winnie Ruth Judd on the papers in the car and all of a sudden she was in trouble again. She was declared not guilty and the murder of a Psychiatrist's wife was never solved. The murdered woman who was shot in their patio early on morning was an aquaintance of mine when we lived in Diablo. A friend of mine and I were invited to lunch with her on the patio where she later was murdered. We did get to see fabulous paintings by French Masters hanging in her house.
Sam and I were happy to have left Southern California where we had never really felt at home. We lived in a virtual paradise, with the most breathtaking view of the ocean. We had tennis and swimming daily as a possibility. We had two couples who were dear friends and we did many things with them, such as playing bridge, playing tennis going to Palm Springs for golf etc. Suddenly both couples went through divorces, and Sam an I felt harmed by them too. Both men had philandered and possibly the younger of the men felt he had permission to do the same after the news came out about the older one. These were both men of quality, we thought, one a Superior Court Judge and the other a professor at UCI. We were devastated and felt as cheated on as the wives did.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Herb Caen
It was time to try to paint Herb Caen. One of his good friends was Barnaby Conrad, the younger brother of one of Sam's best friends, Hunt Conrad. He paved my way and Herb said yes when I presented my plan.
I had to see him at 2PM after his walk about town checking up on his pals. And after his leisurely lunch with his friends. After 2PM he spent a couple of hours at his desk in his office taking copious notes from incoming phone calls. He laughed a lot and obviously enjoyed his life and his work. ( Historically, at one time Herb and the owners of the paper had a falling out and Herb quit and went across the street and worked for the other paper in town. Thousands of people gave up their subscription to the Chronicle and moved their allegiance to the other paper. However soon the Chronicle realized that they needed Herb and they settled their difficulties.
In Herb's office I sat next to his desk. It was difficult to concentrate for he was very amusing. The calls were constant and the repartee was exciting. It was fun to read his column the next morning remembering how the item came in while I was sitting there. At one time Herb said he would pay me a bundle if I would give him a turned up nose. My portrait of Herb was a disappointment to me. There was a good likeness but it was not ART. I got much publicity especially after the portrait hung in
deYoung Museum. I gave the painting to the educational channel in San Francisco and rumor had it that it was bought by a hotel on Market street and they hung it in the Herb Caen Suite. When we lived in Northern California I often wanted to find it.
And then I was going to paint Bishop Pike and Willie Mays. One day Sam come home from work and told us that his partner in Southern California had died and he was supposed to take over his job. We moved. We had lived in Diablo nearly 20 years and I had been very active in the schools and in our church and in the world of art. We had made such good friends. I saw myself as others saw me and after we moved and I knew no one and I lost my identity. I remember going to Martha's graduation ceremony and sat there not knowing a soul and I felt I was invisible. We lived there until 1983 and I think I painted no more than five or six successful paintings.
I had to see him at 2PM after his walk about town checking up on his pals. And after his leisurely lunch with his friends. After 2PM he spent a couple of hours at his desk in his office taking copious notes from incoming phone calls. He laughed a lot and obviously enjoyed his life and his work. ( Historically, at one time Herb and the owners of the paper had a falling out and Herb quit and went across the street and worked for the other paper in town. Thousands of people gave up their subscription to the Chronicle and moved their allegiance to the other paper. However soon the Chronicle realized that they needed Herb and they settled their difficulties.
In Herb's office I sat next to his desk. It was difficult to concentrate for he was very amusing. The calls were constant and the repartee was exciting. It was fun to read his column the next morning remembering how the item came in while I was sitting there. At one time Herb said he would pay me a bundle if I would give him a turned up nose. My portrait of Herb was a disappointment to me. There was a good likeness but it was not ART. I got much publicity especially after the portrait hung in
deYoung Museum. I gave the painting to the educational channel in San Francisco and rumor had it that it was bought by a hotel on Market street and they hung it in the Herb Caen Suite. When we lived in Northern California I often wanted to find it.
And then I was going to paint Bishop Pike and Willie Mays. One day Sam come home from work and told us that his partner in Southern California had died and he was supposed to take over his job. We moved. We had lived in Diablo nearly 20 years and I had been very active in the schools and in our church and in the world of art. We had made such good friends. I saw myself as others saw me and after we moved and I knew no one and I lost my identity. I remember going to Martha's graduation ceremony and sat there not knowing a soul and I felt I was invisible. We lived there until 1983 and I think I painted no more than five or six successful paintings.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Famous San Franciscans
Don Sherwood was a popular early radio talk show host. He was intrigued when he agreed I could come and paint while he was broadcasting. I was nervous and packed the car the night before I had to begin. His program began at 5AM. I left home in the dark, and worried all the way to the city. How would I get the palette, my brushes, the canvas, my small easel and my purse from the car to the building into the elevator. When I arrived I found out I had to sit in a small glass booth next to a larger glass booth where Don was to broadcast. Not the best of arrangements for there were many reflections in the glass. I could hear him as if there was no glass separating us and in the middle of the hours I was there he suddenly introduced me to his audience. He was a very amusing and quite handsome person. He did not sit still for a second. I found out early that this portrait was not going to succeed. I thanked him profusely for having agreed to let me try.
I saved the painting in our garage and a couple of years later someone asked me to enter a juried show in Walnut Creek. I repainted Don Sherwood's eyes and made them into small, small raisin like eyes. I signed the painting and my entry
NEEK RETLAW. The painting was accepted for the show and when Herb Caen told about the joke there were many more visitors to the Art Exhibit. WALTER KEEN was famed for his paintings of little children with huge eyes. O rather, Walter Keen was famous for the paintings his wife painted of children.
By the way, a commenter on my last blog, asked if the sharpshooter was Annie Oakley. No. My sharpshooter was often on the same stage as Annie Oakley. My friend's married name was Semmelmeier. We all knew her public name from the newspaper articles from the Chicago papers, but I forget.
I saved the painting in our garage and a couple of years later someone asked me to enter a juried show in Walnut Creek. I repainted Don Sherwood's eyes and made them into small, small raisin like eyes. I signed the painting and my entry
NEEK RETLAW. The painting was accepted for the show and when Herb Caen told about the joke there were many more visitors to the Art Exhibit. WALTER KEEN was famed for his paintings of little children with huge eyes. O rather, Walter Keen was famous for the paintings his wife painted of children.
By the way, a commenter on my last blog, asked if the sharpshooter was Annie Oakley. No. My sharpshooter was often on the same stage as Annie Oakley. My friend's married name was Semmelmeier. We all knew her public name from the newspaper articles from the Chicago papers, but I forget.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
More on painting
Maureen and I had had a long time of admiration from a distance. She was a gorgeous woman who had at one time been involved in Hollywood. She was an accomplished swimmer and had won many honors in College and the powers in Hollywood had decided to train her for one day taking over from Esther Williams who was not getting younger. That kind of picture with huge casts and imposing money outlays for the studio suddenly became passe and Maureen married a man who had kicked a football longer than anyone else in the yearly in New Years Pasadena Spectacle. Both of them became models and then moved to Diablo and became our neighbors.
Anna, our daughter who was 10 was extremely shy and Sam and I decided a horse would give her not only good posture but also a good feeling of who she was. Maureen gave her lessons in horsemanship. Anna could not ride her horse outside our property before getting her graduation papers from Maureen. This has been a long intro into my association with Maureen.
We formed a loose business deal and rented a building in Danville. We called it DIABLO DESIGN CENTER. It was located between Dr Blemers office and the local cinema. It was an old building with lots of charm. It was covered with cascading flowers. Peter Blos who lived in Berkley was happy about not having to drive to Burlingame and agreed to teach in what became my Art School and with a name like his we also lured four or five other well known painters to a come out to Danville. It was a success from day one. I bought twelve easels and signed up twelve students for most of the classes. (many drove from Burllingame). I kept one day for teaching a beginners class. A friend built a model stand and Peter brought his own lighting equipment. I want you to remember the name Blemer for it recurs in 1983 after we had moved to Port Angeles.
You may think I was well on my way to becoming rich. I painted the flowers that covered our building and sold it almost at once. I also fabricated a construction of old sewing machine parts and named it Mary and the child. A big horse owner saw it and bought it even though I had put a ridiculously high price on it for I wanted to keep it. He hung it in his elegant tack room
Maureen who was an architectual designer was busy designing a home bought all my mistakes in painting a loaf of Wonderbread. The man who sold the company the new type of paper used in the bread wrap wanted me to paint a loaf, sitting on red velvet. I accepted his offer and the price he was to pay me. I bought the bread and the velvet and a piece of Brie cheese and a bottle of red wine and proudly showed him what I had created. He threw up his arms and said 'I want a loaf of bread on red velvet and nothing else.' (he was Gilbert's baseball coach') And so every monday I bought a loaf of bread and began a new painting. Our children were not allowed to eat that kind of soft white bread so I usually just stood there after another failure and made the bread into a factory building with a river in the foreground and skyscrapers in the distance. Or I made it into a luxurious sofa with a teen slouching on it. There were many weeks of failures. Finally I said 'I cant make it'.
But Maureen bought every one of the failures. Since she knew they were supposed to be a Wonderbread she did not pay much for them. She had all of them framed in very expensive frames and when I saw them years later I think she got away with a coup
Anna, our daughter who was 10 was extremely shy and Sam and I decided a horse would give her not only good posture but also a good feeling of who she was. Maureen gave her lessons in horsemanship. Anna could not ride her horse outside our property before getting her graduation papers from Maureen. This has been a long intro into my association with Maureen.
We formed a loose business deal and rented a building in Danville. We called it DIABLO DESIGN CENTER. It was located between Dr Blemers office and the local cinema. It was an old building with lots of charm. It was covered with cascading flowers. Peter Blos who lived in Berkley was happy about not having to drive to Burlingame and agreed to teach in what became my Art School and with a name like his we also lured four or five other well known painters to a come out to Danville. It was a success from day one. I bought twelve easels and signed up twelve students for most of the classes. (many drove from Burllingame). I kept one day for teaching a beginners class. A friend built a model stand and Peter brought his own lighting equipment. I want you to remember the name Blemer for it recurs in 1983 after we had moved to Port Angeles.
You may think I was well on my way to becoming rich. I painted the flowers that covered our building and sold it almost at once. I also fabricated a construction of old sewing machine parts and named it Mary and the child. A big horse owner saw it and bought it even though I had put a ridiculously high price on it for I wanted to keep it. He hung it in his elegant tack room
Maureen who was an architectual designer was busy designing a home bought all my mistakes in painting a loaf of Wonderbread. The man who sold the company the new type of paper used in the bread wrap wanted me to paint a loaf, sitting on red velvet. I accepted his offer and the price he was to pay me. I bought the bread and the velvet and a piece of Brie cheese and a bottle of red wine and proudly showed him what I had created. He threw up his arms and said 'I want a loaf of bread on red velvet and nothing else.' (he was Gilbert's baseball coach') And so every monday I bought a loaf of bread and began a new painting. Our children were not allowed to eat that kind of soft white bread so I usually just stood there after another failure and made the bread into a factory building with a river in the foreground and skyscrapers in the distance. Or I made it into a luxurious sofa with a teen slouching on it. There were many weeks of failures. Finally I said 'I cant make it'.
But Maureen bought every one of the failures. Since she knew they were supposed to be a Wonderbread she did not pay much for them. She had all of them framed in very expensive frames and when I saw them years later I think she got away with a coup
Monday, April 12, 2010
Not continued
I could not say continued for this will be an attempt to tell you what happened between the time Anna was less than a month old and when she went to college. First we had Martha and a year later we had Jane. And when Jane was born I was disconnected. My MD was worried that the negative blood situation (can you tell that here that I am faking it? I can't remember the right word. But Martha was born slightly anemic and Jane had to have a transfusion.) We were so lucky to have four healthy children.
And that was when I was going to fill my time with projects that could make money. Hence art classes. I had four children who were five and under. I spent as much time as I could painting and drawing. As my talents seemed to be in the portrait area I was in the right place in Thomas Leighton's class. He was a stickler for details and it was good discipline to follow his instructions. The worst dressing down I got in his class was once when he felt I had not cleaned my brushes correctly. I felt like a ten year old about to get a beating. But I never allowed my brushes to dry unless they were cleaned in thinner and then soap and water.
His studio was near the old baseball stadium, on Bay street. I remember starting out early on my drive to San Francisco on Wednesdays. I had an hour or more to only worry about the car nearest to me. And then I of course worried about my car making it over the bridge. I drove a 1939 Chevrolet that we bought from Sam's partner. We called it the green hornet. Sometimes it refused to start, but I watched the repairmen we called to see how they fixed that problem. On the passenger side they lifted the hood, looked worried for a while and then they grabbed a thingamajig and jiggled it slightly and then the motor would start. I said to myself 'I can do that'. One day I was going out for lunch after seeing the dentist, and since the car wouldn't start, I took off my little white gloves and moved the thingamajig. When I lowered the hood, my dentist was standing there laughing. He said, I have a few problems with my car, when can you come over. ( I digress again.)
Thomas Leighton's studio was serene with two doves usually cooing in their cage. Always we enjoyed classical music. There was a fellow student who had an interesting past. She was a famous sharp-shooter and when she was young she had shared the stage with world famous shooters. On one occasion the Chicago Police department asked her if she would help them prove how safe a certain vest was for the force to wear. She or her agent agreed. In front of thousands she shot this policeman who fell down dead. He had forgotten to put the protective things into his vest. It was such a shock to her that she never shot a gun again. After much urging she brought with her the Chicago newspapers and it was interesting to read about all the investigations that followed. And to see how beautiful she was as a young woman. She was elderly when I met her.
Thomas Leighton was such a stickler in adding everything in detail into his paintings. I enjoyed the discipline but I did not like that kind of painting. We would have a professional model for four weeks And we would paint embroidery on her skirt and each hair shown correctly. One day on the last day of the model Mr Leighton said to me 'I think you are finished.' I said 'since there is half an hour left my I get a canvas in my car and just see what I can do' He frowned but said yes. In twenty minutes I finished the face of the model and I think it is the best painting I have ever painted. So when I heard of a teacher in Burlingame whose name was Peter Blos I tried to get into his class. He critiqued my paintings and said 'yes I could attend his classes.' His portraits were wonderful with loosely applied paint. He would mix a brushful of paint on his palette and then study the next stroke he was going to apply, and then he would add a little more amber and then study again to see if he now had the correct nyance. It was a discipline of a different kind.
And that was when I was going to fill my time with projects that could make money. Hence art classes. I had four children who were five and under. I spent as much time as I could painting and drawing. As my talents seemed to be in the portrait area I was in the right place in Thomas Leighton's class. He was a stickler for details and it was good discipline to follow his instructions. The worst dressing down I got in his class was once when he felt I had not cleaned my brushes correctly. I felt like a ten year old about to get a beating. But I never allowed my brushes to dry unless they were cleaned in thinner and then soap and water.
His studio was near the old baseball stadium, on Bay street. I remember starting out early on my drive to San Francisco on Wednesdays. I had an hour or more to only worry about the car nearest to me. And then I of course worried about my car making it over the bridge. I drove a 1939 Chevrolet that we bought from Sam's partner. We called it the green hornet. Sometimes it refused to start, but I watched the repairmen we called to see how they fixed that problem. On the passenger side they lifted the hood, looked worried for a while and then they grabbed a thingamajig and jiggled it slightly and then the motor would start. I said to myself 'I can do that'. One day I was going out for lunch after seeing the dentist, and since the car wouldn't start, I took off my little white gloves and moved the thingamajig. When I lowered the hood, my dentist was standing there laughing. He said, I have a few problems with my car, when can you come over. ( I digress again.)
Thomas Leighton's studio was serene with two doves usually cooing in their cage. Always we enjoyed classical music. There was a fellow student who had an interesting past. She was a famous sharp-shooter and when she was young she had shared the stage with world famous shooters. On one occasion the Chicago Police department asked her if she would help them prove how safe a certain vest was for the force to wear. She or her agent agreed. In front of thousands she shot this policeman who fell down dead. He had forgotten to put the protective things into his vest. It was such a shock to her that she never shot a gun again. After much urging she brought with her the Chicago newspapers and it was interesting to read about all the investigations that followed. And to see how beautiful she was as a young woman. She was elderly when I met her.
Thomas Leighton was such a stickler in adding everything in detail into his paintings. I enjoyed the discipline but I did not like that kind of painting. We would have a professional model for four weeks And we would paint embroidery on her skirt and each hair shown correctly. One day on the last day of the model Mr Leighton said to me 'I think you are finished.' I said 'since there is half an hour left my I get a canvas in my car and just see what I can do' He frowned but said yes. In twenty minutes I finished the face of the model and I think it is the best painting I have ever painted. So when I heard of a teacher in Burlingame whose name was Peter Blos I tried to get into his class. He critiqued my paintings and said 'yes I could attend his classes.' His portraits were wonderful with loosely applied paint. He would mix a brushful of paint on his palette and then study the next stroke he was going to apply, and then he would add a little more amber and then study again to see if he now had the correct nyance. It was a discipline of a different kind.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Plot II
I told you how I exhibited paintings after I was invited by the owner of our local cinema, against the advice of my teacher, who said I was not ready to show. And how my hair person said she wanted me to do her portrait. I charged her $25 and painted a; horrible portrait of her. It was partly her fault that it was horrible for her ears sat in the wrong place on her skull. My powers of observation were not acute enough to realize that they were sitting too high on her head. Everyone knows that the ears are supposed to be between the eyebrows and the bottom of the nose, On the side of the head of course. She loved her portrait and when she gave me the $25 I took them to San Francisco to take lessons from Sir Thomas Leighton who charged $25 for four days of lessons. From 10AM to 3PM. I arranged for a baby sitter from 8.30AM to 4.30PM. I paid for her out of our grocery money. She was a real find for she liked to bake and cook while she was there. She kept all four children in the kitchen so she knew where they were and what they were doing. Her name was Sadie and I soon found out she did not know how to read. She made apple pies with potato flour for thickening.
After I had learned more with Thomas Leighton I took the portrait back from my hair dresser and painted her again in oils and this time I knew about her ears, and the painting was a success. And I was very proud of it.
It did not take me long before I rented a space I could use as a studio. I began teaching a few of my friends what I had learned as a painter, and soon I had a long list of people who wanted to join my class. It was a heady time and I hoped it would continue but then came the time for us to move to Southern California. We moved when Anna had gone off to UC Davis so a lot of years had passed since she was less than a month old. My memories seem to shrink the time between these happenings.
After I had learned more with Thomas Leighton I took the portrait back from my hair dresser and painted her again in oils and this time I knew about her ears, and the painting was a success. And I was very proud of it.
It did not take me long before I rented a space I could use as a studio. I began teaching a few of my friends what I had learned as a painter, and soon I had a long list of people who wanted to join my class. It was a heady time and I hoped it would continue but then came the time for us to move to Southern California. We moved when Anna had gone off to UC Davis so a lot of years had passed since she was less than a month old. My memories seem to shrink the time between these happenings.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Plot.
When my three daughters were here for the birthday parties, Martha, very generously gave me a long hour of tutoring. All this time since, A paper that she helped me has been sitting by my computer, looking very threatening. There are twelve Post-it-notes decorating it.
At first her question to me was What made made you want to paint?
On the first little yellow slip it talks about how little money we had when the children were young. Sam worked hard and he worked daily. He was a self starter which was lucky, for he had no boss checking up on him. He could have worked one day a week and stayed home with me for the other six. I am afraid I would not have urged him to drive off early in the morning for I would have loved having him home.
There was one day when he should have stayed home. But it was a Friday and he had to go to the Furniture Mart i San Francisco. I was sick with a high temperature and possibly a strep throat. He got Gilbert fed and diapers changed and left him to play in his room. By pulling my side of the bed over to the door of Gilbert's room, he became stuck in his room. Anna was asleep in another bedroom and I had fed her and changed her. Then he put a glass of water on my bed side table and in the last minute added a bottle of aspirin. And then he left to return at seven or seven thirty that evening.
I fell asleep. And when I woke an hour or two later, I was shocked to see a white powder all over the floor in what as Gilbert's domain. I soon found out that he had taken the aspirin into his room and tried to eat what he thought was candy. I was desperate. What if he had eaten too much. What to do.
I called our pediatrician whose office was only five or ten minutes away. She said 'I will be right up to check on him.' When she arrived she went immediately to Gilbert. I took her into our bedroom and showed her how Sam had arranged for Gilbert to be safe. She told me to get back in bed and went in to check on Gilbert. She looked on the amount of white powder on the floor and offered to give him a white pill and he stuck out his tongue and shook his head. She came back to tell me the good news, that she felt he had not eaten any and might have stomped on them on purpose. And now how is Anna, she said. She is still asleep. I will show you. So we went into the third bedroom where Anna slept peacefully. Anna was less than a month old and as cute as a button with her bright red hair.
You should not have been left alone, as sick as you are. Do you have anyone to call to come to help you? I said yes I would do that. She left, and as far as I remember never sent a bill for the house call. And that was the last house call by a doctor.
All the little yellow post it notes did not help me stay organized. I was supposed to begin the way I did and then go on to tell you why I began taking art lessons. Was it to quiet an inner need to express myself? No. It happened when Jane was born two years after the story of the aspirins. I suddenly realized that we were going to have four children in college at the same time. And somewhere I had learned how much that cost. I had to do something to help. And next time I will tell you what exciting adventures happened because I was bound and determined to get rich and famous.
At first her question to me was What made made you want to paint?
On the first little yellow slip it talks about how little money we had when the children were young. Sam worked hard and he worked daily. He was a self starter which was lucky, for he had no boss checking up on him. He could have worked one day a week and stayed home with me for the other six. I am afraid I would not have urged him to drive off early in the morning for I would have loved having him home.
There was one day when he should have stayed home. But it was a Friday and he had to go to the Furniture Mart i San Francisco. I was sick with a high temperature and possibly a strep throat. He got Gilbert fed and diapers changed and left him to play in his room. By pulling my side of the bed over to the door of Gilbert's room, he became stuck in his room. Anna was asleep in another bedroom and I had fed her and changed her. Then he put a glass of water on my bed side table and in the last minute added a bottle of aspirin. And then he left to return at seven or seven thirty that evening.
I fell asleep. And when I woke an hour or two later, I was shocked to see a white powder all over the floor in what as Gilbert's domain. I soon found out that he had taken the aspirin into his room and tried to eat what he thought was candy. I was desperate. What if he had eaten too much. What to do.
I called our pediatrician whose office was only five or ten minutes away. She said 'I will be right up to check on him.' When she arrived she went immediately to Gilbert. I took her into our bedroom and showed her how Sam had arranged for Gilbert to be safe. She told me to get back in bed and went in to check on Gilbert. She looked on the amount of white powder on the floor and offered to give him a white pill and he stuck out his tongue and shook his head. She came back to tell me the good news, that she felt he had not eaten any and might have stomped on them on purpose. And now how is Anna, she said. She is still asleep. I will show you. So we went into the third bedroom where Anna slept peacefully. Anna was less than a month old and as cute as a button with her bright red hair.
You should not have been left alone, as sick as you are. Do you have anyone to call to come to help you? I said yes I would do that. She left, and as far as I remember never sent a bill for the house call. And that was the last house call by a doctor.
All the little yellow post it notes did not help me stay organized. I was supposed to begin the way I did and then go on to tell you why I began taking art lessons. Was it to quiet an inner need to express myself? No. It happened when Jane was born two years after the story of the aspirins. I suddenly realized that we were going to have four children in college at the same time. And somewhere I had learned how much that cost. I had to do something to help. And next time I will tell you what exciting adventures happened because I was bound and determined to get rich and famous.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Another long hiatus
Is there an excuse for waiting this long and what could have kept me this long from the computer? I will let you in on all the what fors.
I think all of you know about my son in law, Steve. I call him Peter Pan, who will never grow up. He has many endearing qualities but that is a great one. Anna, his wife, who is one of my favorite daughters (I have three favorites) and Steve decided, that since it was going to be Anna's sixtieth birthday around the same time it was my ninetieth we would combine our celebrations into one party.
Apparently Steve wears home made sox on his feet when he enters the house of one of their friends. Some of them are outragiously colorful. When asked where he gets them, he replies From a mother in law who loves him. And then someone said, would she make a pair for me? His answer was Send some money to the Port Angeles Food bank and maybe she will. So twenty four couples took up a collection and sent more than six hundred dollars to the food bank. Two days ago I finished the twenty fourth pair. I rushed over to my neglected computer and it would not work. Last night, another favorite daughter, Martha, helped me overcome the problems. Martha is the plot lady you can read about on Shreve's advertisers. And by the way, Shreve has promised to insert a picture of most of the sox in question.
And then I have to warn you that another favorite daughter, Jane, sent me a huge book. The note with the book said:
HAPPY BASEBALL SEASON from three of your fans, Anna, Martha and Jane. The title of the book is WILLIE MAYS, by James Hirsch
It will take me to the time of the next World Series to finish it. Last night the MARINERS won in spring training exhibition play and I will hope for many more victories. Life is so exciting!!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
What happened on Monday
After making an appointment on Friday, with a big shot from our local Y, I arrived at 7.45 AM on Monday. The parking lot was full and the Gyms were humming with all machines at full speed and mostly men panting, working up glowing patinas and much sweat.
My Y big shot who listened to my story about being totally graceless when attempting to rise from a sitting position and my desire to strengthen my quadriceps and my gluteus maximus introduced me to two chairs that she felt could improve the strengths of the two areas I mentioned. I did ten ups and downs with ease on the first one and then when I came to the second one I felt very insecure. My feet were sort of enclosed to make them feel secure, but the seat I sat on was a flat square surface, no bigger than a small book. I managed one push back, thinking I was going to run out of room in the back and land on the floor, but miraculously it stopped in time. The second one began OK, but half way back I fell off the chair, landed on my shoulder and my butt while my shoes were still tied in the foot thing. Luckily, as soon as my feet were untied I attempted to get up. My Y big shot and a gorgeous man who interrupted his work on a nearby machine helped me up.
After discussing my problem, I decided that I would attempt to strengthen my problem areas at home, and then I would join her class in balance when it begins in April.
There is no way could ever feel secure and dignified at that place. I hope they will hold the balance class somewhere else.
My Y big shot who listened to my story about being totally graceless when attempting to rise from a sitting position and my desire to strengthen my quadriceps and my gluteus maximus introduced me to two chairs that she felt could improve the strengths of the two areas I mentioned. I did ten ups and downs with ease on the first one and then when I came to the second one I felt very insecure. My feet were sort of enclosed to make them feel secure, but the seat I sat on was a flat square surface, no bigger than a small book. I managed one push back, thinking I was going to run out of room in the back and land on the floor, but miraculously it stopped in time. The second one began OK, but half way back I fell off the chair, landed on my shoulder and my butt while my shoes were still tied in the foot thing. Luckily, as soon as my feet were untied I attempted to get up. My Y big shot and a gorgeous man who interrupted his work on a nearby machine helped me up.
After discussing my problem, I decided that I would attempt to strengthen my problem areas at home, and then I would join her class in balance when it begins in April.
There is no way could ever feel secure and dignified at that place. I hope they will hold the balance class somewhere else.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
The reason for waiting
The party was a huge success.
Saturday was an unusually beautiful day. No clouds on the horizon and no wind. The girls were fully prepared and rose from bed with a song in their hearts. My neighbor, Mary Fran, who had been such a big help in securing the room at the church, said, let me know if I can be of help. She let them go earlier than first thought possible. And with that they began the decorating and the preparing the food. I was not there, but when I arrived the hall was decorated and the food was getting ready. Wine or water and cold and warm treats were served as people were arriving. It was wonderful seeing both old friends and new friends from my new digs. And then the time came to sit down to eat. We had never decided how people should sit, so it just happened. I would have liked to sit next to every one there, but that was impossible. A chair with a balloon tied to it was my designated spot.
Several people have asked for the recipe for the OLIVE-STUFFED CHEESE PUFFS that were served before lunch. Here it is...
1 1\2 cups flour
2 cups finely grated sharp cheddar cheese (about 8 ounzes
i\2 cup unsalted butter, melted
4 to 5 dozen olives, well drained
Combine above items. Take about a teaspoon of dough, enfold the olive and shape into a small ball. Place balls on an ungreased rimmed cookie sheet and freeze for one hour. When frozen put balls in freezer bag and freeze until firm. Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees and bake until golden brown. About 15-18 min.
The main course was a chicken salad inspired by the Barefoot Contessa. What made ours better than anything I've tasted before was the addition of the Chutney. She mentioned col Gray's but I had made my own apple chutney. We used it freely and I could have eaten the whole huge dish of salad dressing with a large spoon. People are still raving on about how good it was. We bought seven or eight pre roasted chickens from Costco. And we bought the wine from Walmart at an embarrassingly low price and I, with my uneducated taste of wine, thought it was delicious.
The cake was ordered from a restaurant with a strange name. People around here pronounce it DUPIES. It is a French name that sounds ultra-elegant when you pronounce it correctly. DUPUIS. There was one chocolate cake and one lemon one and both were great.
For me the greatest part of the day was seeing old friends and hoping there was time to spend a few moments with each one. That was not possible, but I now have hopes of seeing each and every one for breakfast or for lunch so we can talk. Our friends from California were unable to come because of health reasons but Sam's nephew and wife came from the California and as it turned out they ere terrific at helping with the party. Sudenly they took it upon themselves to put all the dishes in the dishwasher that spews out hot clean dishes every five min. So when my three girls were finished restoring the place as it was when they arrived, the dishes were done . ( Janice, this was the spot were you called and we had our long talk. Which I enjoyed so much . Wish you had been able to come.)
Martha and I had time one day for me to have a lesson on PLOT. I will spend the time trying to put all that knowledge to use on my blog. It concerns my short attempt to paint portraits of as many famous San Franciscans as I could get near. I had permission to paint the portraits of Bishop Pike, Don Sherwood, Herb Caen, Willie Mays and Governor Brown. I am sad to say that I only achieved two of them and I do not know if I failed to do the others because Bishop Pike died or because we moved, or because I was unhappy with the results of the two I did paint. You'll have to wait and see. With Martha as my Plot helper I should have an easy time.
Saturday was an unusually beautiful day. No clouds on the horizon and no wind. The girls were fully prepared and rose from bed with a song in their hearts. My neighbor, Mary Fran, who had been such a big help in securing the room at the church, said, let me know if I can be of help. She let them go earlier than first thought possible. And with that they began the decorating and the preparing the food. I was not there, but when I arrived the hall was decorated and the food was getting ready. Wine or water and cold and warm treats were served as people were arriving. It was wonderful seeing both old friends and new friends from my new digs. And then the time came to sit down to eat. We had never decided how people should sit, so it just happened. I would have liked to sit next to every one there, but that was impossible. A chair with a balloon tied to it was my designated spot.
Several people have asked for the recipe for the OLIVE-STUFFED CHEESE PUFFS that were served before lunch. Here it is...
1 1\2 cups flour
2 cups finely grated sharp cheddar cheese (about 8 ounzes
i\2 cup unsalted butter, melted
4 to 5 dozen olives, well drained
Combine above items. Take about a teaspoon of dough, enfold the olive and shape into a small ball. Place balls on an ungreased rimmed cookie sheet and freeze for one hour. When frozen put balls in freezer bag and freeze until firm. Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees and bake until golden brown. About 15-18 min.
The main course was a chicken salad inspired by the Barefoot Contessa. What made ours better than anything I've tasted before was the addition of the Chutney. She mentioned col Gray's but I had made my own apple chutney. We used it freely and I could have eaten the whole huge dish of salad dressing with a large spoon. People are still raving on about how good it was. We bought seven or eight pre roasted chickens from Costco. And we bought the wine from Walmart at an embarrassingly low price and I, with my uneducated taste of wine, thought it was delicious.
The cake was ordered from a restaurant with a strange name. People around here pronounce it DUPIES. It is a French name that sounds ultra-elegant when you pronounce it correctly. DUPUIS. There was one chocolate cake and one lemon one and both were great.
For me the greatest part of the day was seeing old friends and hoping there was time to spend a few moments with each one. That was not possible, but I now have hopes of seeing each and every one for breakfast or for lunch so we can talk. Our friends from California were unable to come because of health reasons but Sam's nephew and wife came from the California and as it turned out they ere terrific at helping with the party. Sudenly they took it upon themselves to put all the dishes in the dishwasher that spews out hot clean dishes every five min. So when my three girls were finished restoring the place as it was when they arrived, the dishes were done . ( Janice, this was the spot were you called and we had our long talk. Which I enjoyed so much . Wish you had been able to come.)
Martha and I had time one day for me to have a lesson on PLOT. I will spend the time trying to put all that knowledge to use on my blog. It concerns my short attempt to paint portraits of as many famous San Franciscans as I could get near. I had permission to paint the portraits of Bishop Pike, Don Sherwood, Herb Caen, Willie Mays and Governor Brown. I am sad to say that I only achieved two of them and I do not know if I failed to do the others because Bishop Pike died or because we moved, or because I was unhappy with the results of the two I did paint. You'll have to wait and see. With Martha as my Plot helper I should have an easy time.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
The week of the party
On Monday my three daughters arrived. That was enough of a gift for me, for it was wonderful seeing them all together. Rare sight. They were here about five minutes and then the planning began. Jane was in charge of decorating the wonderful room we had arranged to use in St. Andrew Episcopal Church in Port Angeles. A large sunny room with eight large round tables. So we prayed for the sun to shine on the designated day and that nine or ten people could gather around each table. In addition to the room we could also use the memory garden with its roofed area for people who might arrive early. Wine and water and a few nibbles would be served there.
Gilbert who was performing in a play in Sequim, said we could have dinner in his house, and since he has a dishwasher and I do not, we quickly agreed to take our Lamb Shanks and mashed potatoes there. It was a joy again to see all of my four children in one room. I can not remember when that had happened. When Sam was sick Gilbert was missing, and when we had his, Sam's, requested party in his honor, Martha was missing. This was an occasion for the books. How lucky can one ninety year old be?
On Wednesday we girls shopped and then had lunch at the John Wayne Marina. Another wonderful memory. The sun was shining on all the masts and on the fishermen who were bringing in their catch while we were eating. Then a stop at Mad Maggie's where the girls all have been lucky in finding some treasure but this time it was my turn. I found hat I was going to wear for my party.
Wednesday evening we ate spagetti and went to see Gilbert in Cabaret. Fabulous play, and I ran into many people from long ago when Sam treaded the boards. The star of the show, who sang like an angel, remembered me from the time her father and Sam were poker players in The Odd Couple, and she and I had to find time to play during rehearsal. She was about eight or ten at that time.
Thursday we bought the already cooked chickens we needed for the chicken salad for Saturday. And all the other details for the party food. And then the chopping and slicing and stirring began. Anna was more or less in charge of that part of the preparations. Martha was making lists upon lists and we never could have survived without them. And Jane never stopped making tissue paper flowers for the tables. Everyone helped with this also. Except me. I sat in my chair and enjoyed the view. I am now ninety and I can do what I want! I tried one flower but it was too difficult.
The girls were sleeping in a nearby Cottage and that was a lifesaving stroke of luck. We could use their totally empty refrigerator and freezer. What luck. And finally it was Saturday. I will tell you next time about that Saturday.
Gilbert who was performing in a play in Sequim, said we could have dinner in his house, and since he has a dishwasher and I do not, we quickly agreed to take our Lamb Shanks and mashed potatoes there. It was a joy again to see all of my four children in one room. I can not remember when that had happened. When Sam was sick Gilbert was missing, and when we had his, Sam's, requested party in his honor, Martha was missing. This was an occasion for the books. How lucky can one ninety year old be?
On Wednesday we girls shopped and then had lunch at the John Wayne Marina. Another wonderful memory. The sun was shining on all the masts and on the fishermen who were bringing in their catch while we were eating. Then a stop at Mad Maggie's where the girls all have been lucky in finding some treasure but this time it was my turn. I found hat I was going to wear for my party.
Wednesday evening we ate spagetti and went to see Gilbert in Cabaret. Fabulous play, and I ran into many people from long ago when Sam treaded the boards. The star of the show, who sang like an angel, remembered me from the time her father and Sam were poker players in The Odd Couple, and she and I had to find time to play during rehearsal. She was about eight or ten at that time.
Thursday we bought the already cooked chickens we needed for the chicken salad for Saturday. And all the other details for the party food. And then the chopping and slicing and stirring began. Anna was more or less in charge of that part of the preparations. Martha was making lists upon lists and we never could have survived without them. And Jane never stopped making tissue paper flowers for the tables. Everyone helped with this also. Except me. I sat in my chair and enjoyed the view. I am now ninety and I can do what I want! I tried one flower but it was too difficult.
The girls were sleeping in a nearby Cottage and that was a lifesaving stroke of luck. We could use their totally empty refrigerator and freezer. What luck. And finally it was Saturday. I will tell you next time about that Saturday.
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