My niece sent me email. Let’s meet for coffee and celebrate Aunts’ Day. What a splendid idea! We ought to launch it, worldwide. Surely there wasn’t a special day for aunts already, an international observance?
I dived into the amazing world of the internet. Did you know that there are over two hundred days a year when something or other is being internationally observed? I did some analysis on them and divided them into different categories.
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I had to clear out my parents’ apartment earlier this year.
This meant going through every single piece of paper starting with the waste paper basket, every single envelope, every single pocket in every single piece of clothing (coins, hankies, combs), every single pocket in every single bag and purse (coins, hankies, combs) etc, including every single everything. This also meant figuring out where to take and what to do with posessions accumulated since my parents got married in 1947. There are some older treasures like my maternal grandmother’s song book from 1907 I think, my uncle’s war time letters from the front in 1944, some letters from my great aunts and uncles to my grandmother, old photographs in which I hardly recognize anyone. Luckily I’ve found a second cousin who does recognize many of these people. Auction houses, charity shops and recycling centres are a blessing. As is the fact that it is more than ok to buy things second hand. My siblings and their families and I took our share. I think we all would have taken more had we room for more. However, holding on to things for the sake of holding on to things makes no sense. Our parents are not in the paintings, furniture, silver objects, books, beautiful shoes, crystal glasses or tableware. Our parents are in us, in our memories. Or, actually, we think they are at the cottage. Sometimes I can feel a presence. Nice. It’s 5C today. Not unusual for the first of May, but compared to the 17C to 20C just ten days ago it seems an awful lot colder. And it’s been rainy. The buds on that rowan tree outside the window are growing as I type. Anyway, what does one do on a cold and rainy day in the country? I decided to do something with my hands. Draw or paint. I went for my art things and in my sketch book there was this pencil drawing I did two summers ago. We were growing cherry tomatoes in flower pots and got lots and lots of them and oh! did they taste sweet. That was the first summer we grew them and encouraged by our success we decided to grow them again last summer. This time, however, the mice or shrew or both found them and thought they tasted pretty sweet as well, I bet. Last summer wasn’t such a success. I’ve often noticed that a sketch is a lot better than the ”proper” version I later decide to make. When I sketch I don’t take myself so seriously, I’m more relaxed. So if I make a sketch on the back of a lottery ticket and it turns out nicely I’m annoyed at the quality of the paper. Luckily, the paper in this sketch book is acid free and actually archival quality, so my art work will last for generations. I took out my coloured pencils and this is how the drawing turned out. |
AuthorI'm Piisa and I will be sharing with you my thoughts on this and that, maybe even on whatever. Archives
August 2023
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