Une Petite Chaise Bleue

Soooo my French title is a bit pretentious but the story isn't. This is a tale of ...

 A LITTLE BLUE CHAIR

Once upon a time, there was a cute little blue chair that belonged to a cute little child. It got sat on, dragged around, climbed on, dinged, nicked, and played with. Eventually, the owner outgrew his little blue chair and the sad little chair got tossed unceremoniously onto mom and dad's weekly garbage pile. Poor little blue chair, all alone and sitting on the curb.

A nice lady who was out walking her dog spotted the little chair. This little chair is too cute to be dumped into the monstrous, groaning, squealing, trash truck she thought. She had her dog leash in one hand, but was able to pick up the little chair in her other hand and carry it to her nice, warm home.

The nice lady went to her friend for help. "Can you paint this little chair and make it cute and happy again?" she asked.

                                            ______________________________________________

Her friend loved to paint and agreed to try to help.  

First, she gave the chair a nice bath. Then, she sanded, filled holes and cracks, and sanded again.  Blue dust flew all around.  Finally, she got a cloth and wiped off all the dust.

The chair was ready, but ready for what?

It needed some fresh, bright coats of white paint. The chair looked sparkly and new.

Next, the friend had to think and think. What would make the small chair, and a possible new small owner happy and not afraid? Should she paint trucks, or fish, or storybook characters?

"I know," she said. "The little chair needs some bright colours and cute animals painted on it."

Since it was a very little chair, it was difficult to make tiny animals with paint. She tried using a pencil, but it left ugly marks, and she didn't like how the chair was starting to look when she added paint. It deserved a lot more thought, love, and detail.

Once again, the tiny chair got re-painted white. This time, the friend decided to make a pattern, or template for the chair seat. She used a square of construction paper and drew each animal. Then she cut and taped, moved them around, and reassembled until she was satisfied with their size and placement. This was a better idea.

After painting the background, she used erasable charcoal to draw the animals onto the seat.

When she was satisfied with her drawing, it came time to paint and add a few details. It took bright lights, a steady hand, and lots of patience to get all the animals the way she wanted them to look, but soon the chair was finished. With a quick protective gloss coat of fixative, the chair became bright and shiny and new.

                                           

                                                         ______________________________________

When the chair was finished, the nice lady came to pick it up from her friend. She took it to her little grandson's house where there was a beautiful quilt that coincidentally matched the animals on the chair. The little chair had a new home and had a cute, new little owner. Everyone was happy.

Where Have the Months Gone? A Pandemic Review

For awhile since self isolation,  I'd wake up in the morning with the title and melody from a Carpenters' song, "It's Yesterday Once More" swimming in my head. Although the song has nothing to do with our current situation, it does contain a poignant verse which spoke to me.

"Lookin' back on how it was in years gone by
And the good times that I had
Makes today seem rather sad, so much has changed"

I miss my friends, my trips, certain group activities, shopping, my appointments (yes even those), and mostly, my freedom. I suppose it is affecting me more since I am now considered "older", "senior", and "high risk group", during this time of covid-19 pandemic. The problem is that with age, there's also a certain element of urgency to get on with life, and to do all those things we always wanted to do while it's still possible. This isolation is severely impacting the time I have left to complete those activities.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not playing the world's tiniest violin here. I understand how fortunate I am. I know there are all kinds of horrific issues in the world, and there are people who were suffering prior to this, and even more so now as a result of this pandemic. The loss of jobs, the homelessness, the poverty, the hunger, the death toll, has escalated everywhere. I too have family members who are impacted.

Nonetheless, I'm no longer young enough to recoup this time, or to consider it as just a blip in my life.

On the bright side, there are things I've accomplished during my stay at home time. I'm trying hard not to think of them as "make work projects", since that would depress me. So, in an effort to make the best of my "captivity" as it were, here are some of my escapades and accomplishments over the last couple of months. This summary, is not meant to sound boastful. I have not found ways to save the world. It is rather an attempt to remind myself that I have managed to use some of the time to a good end.

It all started with new and inventive ways of cooking with food finds early on, while we were unable to shop. I've completed several blogs about that including  "Covid Cooking" 5/21/20 .

The cooking, then got interspersed with the dreaded housework, "Fanatical Tidying, Organizing, or Not! " 5/15/20, and as the weather improved,  gardening, "Pandemic Planting" 5/16/20.

For awhile, when we thought the pandemic would be short lived, we had special celebratory days. I decorated, we dressed up in costumes, and it was fun. Eventually, my poor hubby got tired of my silliness and I got sick of all the work involved, so we've put everything on a hiatus. It's only temporary, so shhhhh...don't tell.

First we celebrated the Blue Jays no home opener day this year.  We wore our fan gear and ate hot dogs, fries, and other ballpark delicacies.  Next came Maritime fish Fryday...self explanatory, but who knew I had an Anne of Green Gables outfit and would dress hubby as a fisherman in his yellow slicker?

German Day was a celebration of our heritage, complete with schnitzel, sauerkraut, spaetzle, and beer. Medieval Times was a lot of work. We wore elaborate costumes and wigs and performed feats of strength. Formal Friday was a suggestion by late night talk show host Jimmy Kimmel, even though I'd already thought of it. Then there was our Green Eggs and Ham party.  For Cinco de Mayo, which conveniently fell on Taco Tuesday, I made a papier mache pinata and sombrero.  Choice of food was obvious and simple.

Then,  after hearing everyone complaining about the length of their hair, it became time for a little haircutting fun.         

 Hobbies have managed to take on a new life. First, I painted a bookcase (details in blog "Now I Am An Old Purple Woman" 5/29/20).  The stool was an old rickety unpainted wreck. Now, it's an old rickety, weirdly painted wreck. I'll never be a Picasso, but I'm having fun. The easel has seen a few of my efforts.

I recently wallpapered the laundry room, practiced piano, and  reverse tie dyed a shirt (blog yet to come). I've also managed to make a dent in the pile of books I've been meaning to read.

Perhaps it's all been time well spent after all. At least that's what I'll tell myself.

There are countless jokes on the internet about the coronavirus, and this calendar year. There are comments about unused day planners, and those who say that 2020 doesn't count and we're really not a year older. I fear that I will be at least a year older before all this is over. 

After  I saw a rather humorous meme from Aunty Acid using the  movie "Groundhog Day", I now no longer hear the Carpenters' song "It's Yesterday Once More" in the morning.  Instead, I've started waking up to "I've Got You Babe".

Now I Am An Old Purple Woman

Many people are familiar with the poem, "Warning" by Jenny Joseph which begins, "When I am an old woman I shall wear purple."  Essentially, she suggests that when people are older, they don't care as much about what others think of them. They have the freedom to do as they please, without feeling the need to impress others. I believe this to be true. She also suggests that some people should be a bit quirky before they become old, so that nobody will think them odd later in life. It doesn't work. People still think I'm odd, but alas, I don't care that much about what they think. So clearly, Joseph has a point. 

This week, I was busy. We had an old brown bookcase in the garage. Why does most furniture have to be brown anyhow? During one of my energetic moments, I decided to paint it, so that it could be placed the bedroom. I wanted my impossible pile of books to be organized enough that they could be shelved, and hopefully read. I knew I wouldn't offend anyone who has issues with the painting of wood, since this shelf was made of ***chipboard photo-paper. After a trip to Home Depot, I learned that I needed to use primer, then cover with two paint coats. What colour was I going to pick? 

After careful consideration, I decided to paint my bookcase purple to add some life to the room. Back in 9/23/11 "Missing Blogs...Updated Digs" I redid the bedroom in shades of green and aubergine, and although some changes have taken place since then, the basic colours have remained the same. I like them.

The whole time I was using the purple paint, I was reminded of the children's story, "Harold and the Purple Crayon". I wondered how it would look if I sketched and painted Harold on the side of my shelf. At no point did I care what people might think about this odd childlike shelf showing up in a bedroom. On the other hand, not many would see it and it would probably bring me joy.

Although I had some issues with the paint adhering without lifting off the photo paper (not sure if the primer preparation was correct), I eventually succeeded in completing the additions to my satisfaction. I protected it with varathane, and it was done...night time appropriate with moon and stars.

My books are now stacked and the room makes me happy. The colour  breaks up the boredom of the rest of the brown furnishings.

Earlier on, when I was doing the priming, I decided to also coat a rocking chair which I had retrieved from a neighbour's trash. There wasn't much wrong with it except that a dog had chewed part of the seat at the back. Wood purists of the world might take issue with me. When I turned the rocker over, I was surprised to make some discoveries. Still, it will become my next art project.

Although I'm not yet certain how I will complete the chair, I do know one thing for sure. It will not be purple.

 ***Chipboard photo-paper shelf - No real wood was harmed in the painting of this bookcase.

Lots of No Time

You'd think that during pandemic isolation, there'd be lots of time to do things...like blogs. That's actually only partly true. I must admit that I am happy about a lot of things I've accomplished...special fun days which included dressing up and torturing my spouse; working on some hobbies (painting, reading, playing keyboard, writing); house cleaning...hiss boo, no excuse, and cooking...ugh. I'm becoming more efficient, and more inventive even though I dislike both of the latter tasks. Waste of time if you ask me. On the other hand, what else do I have to do?

As I previously mentioned, I have started no fewer, (yes the correct word, rarely used anymore is "fewer") than a dozen blogs and finished only two. At least I think I finished two. There's probably one that I stole from someone else, so perhaps three. As for writing, I've done a bit...messages/emails to friends. Perhaps I can incorporate these someplace. I certainly have a lot to say, and I definitely have plenty of opinions.

I think what happened is that my head is so full of "stuff", that I can't focus on the direction I want to go with any one of my blogs. Then, there are also occasional interruptions. I read somewhere that interruptions are the greatest suppressors to imagination and trains of thought. My train is easily derailed. I have the attention span of a gnat, and am fortunate to know this about myself.  I knew a writer once that wrote during the night, quiet, isolated. I suppose that's why some authors disappear into cabins in the woods. Or perhaps that's a myth and just how we perceive writers.

It's not just the blogs that are unfinished. I currently have a partially completed painting on my easel. It still needs some layers and shading. Not an original idea I might add. I saw it someplace on google and it appealed to me. The colours have been changed to protect the innocent or however the expression goes.

I have also been working on a small piece of unpainted furniture, trying to come up with some colour and design. I figured, if I don't wreck it, I can go on to bigger and better pieces.  Besides, I'm so immature that when my friends phone and ask what I'm doing, I can say, "I'm just painting my stool."

Then I cackle and laugh like some four year old repeating the words poopoo, peepee, and diarrhea, over and over, as they love to do.

Here's a picture of my stool before I started painting it. Ha,ha.                         

Well...that's about it for now. I'll try to recap some of my other adventures later. I have already shared them on Facebook, so I suppose that also contributes to my laziness in blogging about them.

Take care. Wash your hands. This too shall pass.

Easter Cookies

My friend and I signed up for a cookie decorating workshop at a nearby bakery. I like doing things like this. It provides a few hours out to meet new people. You usually learn something. It's fun, and all the mess is somewhere other than your place. I highly recommend it.

Here is the "after" photo of how the cookies were supposed to look.

We had a couple of wonderful owner/instructors who provided us with great information and demonstrated technique. We also had the photo, and a workspace. First we practiced decorating using a template and a piping bag. It's not as easy as it looks. A steady hand is helpful.

Our partially *flooded cookies were ready for our touches. We would be combining food colour painting and piping to make our creations.

The small eggs were experimental. The others were...well, clearly also experimental. Some painting, more flooding, then piping. My bunny turned out looking like an angry mouse. The back of my lamb looked like not much of anything. My carrot...pretty good. Butterfly...passable. The flower and big egg...oh well. Just don't compare them to the original photo and they don't look half bad.

Next, we were given a delicious snack. Love those scones, one savoury, and one with raspberries. The lemon square was a highlight, and the punch was tasty.

Voilà! Cookies were dry and ready to be boxed and taken home for consumption. We each received a lovely graduation cookie as well. It was a successful day. I do believe I want to keep an eye out for further fun activities at this bakery.                                                                                                                                         

graduation cookies

*Flooding is the process of filling a cookie with icing. It is necessary to first pipe a "dam", let it dry, then fill the middle with softer icing which once dry, can be painted with food colouring. Making a dam keeps the icing from dripping down the sides.

         

Do It Myself Projects - The Beginning

It occurred to me that there are a lot of things that bug me around my house. Why do they bother me? They're either ugly, boring, or not useful...not necessarily old, just wrong for whatever reason. Feng Shui philosophy would suggest disposal or changing of anything we don't love or isn't useful.

Some would argue that as long as things are functional and not broken, there's nothing wrong with them and they should be retained until death. Others replace the entire contents of their homes and redo their decor far too often.

Sometimes, we get help. Not that long ago, I had the good fortune of disintegrating living and dining room sheers. I went to wash them and as I removed same from their pocket rods, I found myself holding tatters. This was a no brainer. I soon replaced them with gorgeous, clean, new, semi sheer, slightly patterned curtains. I needed tie backs and couldn't come up with anything that didn't look like the "mature" person I am. Then I saw some great little glasses cords (also old lady...the kind that hang around your neck) at the dollar store. I brought them home and voilà. Here are my sheers and tie backs.

I looked around the house and determined what things bothered me most. I made a list. My plan is to begin small, so small, that hopefully, it will be barely noticed except as an improvement. This is a laundry hamper, mid century modern. I checked Google and similar hampers were made in the late 50's and early 60's. No real value...$20 on pinterest and perhaps slightly more on ebay. It also weighs more than one frail, senior woman can lift. Fill it with laundry, add additional obstacles (dogs, stairs, etc) and it's pretty much an impossibility to transport to the basement laundry room. It's dirty and faded, but in relatively good condition....and sturdy. I would like it to look clean, tasteful and modern.

The internet is of no help. All their hampers and redesigned hampers look sterile...wooden, metallic, or white. I want some pizazz. I want style. I want... well, who cares? Anything will be an improvement over the current look.

So far, I've decided to paint the bottom, recover the vinyl lid, and replace the braid and rusted hinges. Wish me luck. I'll report back.

Painting for Absolute Beginners - Week 2

I finally found a spot to keep my paint items set up in the house. No bathtub is involved despite the fact that it would facilitate water acquisition and cleanup.

I have put all paper and paint (not the water) on and around a t.v. tray, near....what else?...the t.v. That way, I don't have to pack up and I only need to bring a small, stable container with water when I'm ready to watch t.v...and paint. I like to multi task especially when it comes to t.v. It feels as though less time is wasted. The only occasion when this might become a problem is if I accidentally sit on the chair remote which will recline me more rapidly than I can retrieve the gizmo and thus fling my feet into a horizontal position directly in line with my painting supplies. Fortunately, I don't keep the water on the tray but on a large wicker trunk (no elephants were harmed....) next to my chair.

This week, in class, my eyes were swollen and I had major hives all over my body...an attractive look. I probably won't use that as an excuse for my painting efforts. I will use it as a reason for another blog, possibly today or tomorrow.

We received a course summary, and I soon saw that a week's Caribbean beach vacation was looking more desirable than some of the paint weeks. The fact is, I don't really care for water colours and saw no sign of acrylic usage as I had hoped in the later stages of these sessions. Ah well.

I learned more about colour theory and followed the instructions we were given to work with wet on wet, wet on dry, and dry on dry. I hope I have this all correct. Wet on wet involved wetting the paper and using thinned paint atop this. Wet on dry...hmmm...sounds like wet paint on dry paper. Finally, dry on dry wasn't quite as it seemed although the brush had minimal amounts of water and made a scritching sound on the paper.

Once finished following the instructors suggestions for trying these techniques, we all brought our work to place it on display along a wall...a gallery exhibit as it were. I immediately noted and announced "One of these things is not like the others." I got a laugh if nothing else.

Mine was different, probably wrong....was I already lagging? Am I unteachable? You know the old saying about "those who can, do and those who can't....."

Yep....that's mine, last one on the right. Not to worry, there won't be a test at the end, I thought. I've always been a bit different. Besides, I've got a terrible case of hives.

We received our homework assignment. Make shapes. Experiment with different techniques. Add paint at different times. Seemed simple enough. I'll just keep plugging away. Here are a few of the messes I made while watching the State of the Union address (listening actually).

Mucking around #1....lines, shapes, mixing colours, dry on dry...who knows? I think I even started a game of watercolour tic tac toe in the corner.

Mucking around #2....Let's try something else. I filled a whole page with colour, wet on wet, dry on whatever....just running things together. And what would happen if I put a Picassa frame around it?

Painting For Absolute Beginners - Week One

Thirty five plus years ago, I took a computer course. It was supposed to be for beginners. I arrived, had no idea about anything, and soon discovered that others were not only switching on their Commodore 64's but had also begun to run the adjacent tape recorder. Some where playing games of solitaire at their assigned stations. I had no idea where to turn the machine on. I had no clue why there was a tape recorder. And so it went. I was already left behind.

I've taken other "beginner" courses in the past. The most recent was a community college course (see blog Feb. 13, 2011 - Computers for Dummies or Photoshop for Pros?) I took my little Nikon camera in the hopes of learning something other than point and shoot. The rest of the class showed up with monstrosities which can only be described as something a newspaper photographer would own...complete with foot long lenses and suitcase carrying bags. After a few weeks, I dropped out. I was behind from day one.

When I saw a six week "Painting for Absolute Beginners" course listed in the seniors' community centre brochure, I thought I'd give it a try. Although nothing is ever certain, the words "absolute"  and "senior" gave me hope that everyone in the class would not be immediately emulating DaVinci or Van Gogh.

I arrived a few minutes early and discovered that the class contained eight women. Most of them had three to five letter names, simple names, old fashioned names, nice names. There wasn't a Dweezil, a  River, an Apple, or a Zuma in the bunch. I tried not to cause too much trouble when the instructor handed us name tags. I resisted writing John Hancock as we were instructed to do.

We were told that this was definitely a beginner class...basic, basic, basic. The artist/instructor showed us some of his work and we were all impressed. It was lovely, it was detailed. He created 3-D art, miniature works, pen and ink and geometric drawings. He had his own style. I began to panic. Not only was his art fantastic, it contained details which were drawn with a fine pen. Should I have taken "Drawing for Absolute Beginners" prior to this course, I wondered. Then I realized it would have been impossible since that begins in February.

I maintained my composure as all the essential materials were discussed and some were demonstrated. We learned about types of brushes and grades of paper. Helpful. It was recommended that once at home, we keep our paint supplies out and readily available for use at all times. This sounded like a good idea because if they have to be packed and unpacked for each use, painting opportunities and efforts would diminish. My mind was racing as I mentally surveyed our house. Where could I find a spot?

Our basement is currently uninhabitable...well, actually it's inhabited but mostly not by hubby or me. The laundry room is too small. Hubby's office is too cluttered. Part of the upstairs bedroom has become my office so it would have to be a choice.... computer, writing, bills OR painting. The floor is carpeted, so, bad idea. The living room has too much furniture and the kitchen...well,..No! The deck would be too cold and my water would freeze. My best option was to set up shop in the main floor bathtub. After all, it's never used.

My daydreaming ended when the instructor handed out supplies....paper, watercolour paints, and water cups. I was nervous and kind of sorry I opted to sit in the front row. What ever possessed me?

We were to paint a red line, then a water line. The paint would not go beyond the line we were promised.

Next, we made a blue line. "I get it." I thought. This is like kindergarten. I'm good at kindergarten!

After adding water we mixed the two colours together...yayyy....purple. I totally understand this. The instructor complimented my purple glob. I felt so successful. This was indeed a beginner's class that I could enjoy. After adding yellow, making green, making brown and a darker brown, we were ready to be given our homework....practice mixing colours at home after setting up your work station. 

I suggested we return our name tags onto the original backing so that we could reuse them next week. Everyone thought this was a good idea. Then I muttered , "and we can all select a different name next week."  The instructor laughed. He had already identified me as a trouble maker early on.

Now my only remaining problem is where to set up shop. Do I really want to paint in a bathtub? Well, if nothing else, cleanup would be easy.

Autumn Au Revoir

My parents bought their first real home in the early 60's. I was eleven years old. It was a small three bedroom bungalow with one bathroom, no garage, a gravel driveway and an unsodded backyard. Until then, we lived in a series of flats in Toronto. In those days, people didn't live with their parents indefinitely, nor did they purchase a huge home the day they got married. My folks worked, they scrimped and eventually, they bought.

One of the first non essential purchases my parents made was an oil painting. They bought it in a jewellry and gift store at the Oshawa Centre. I remember that they went back several times. Spending $50 was a huge decision. They had admired several pieces by a Finnish artist who lived locally named of *Erkki Jalava. Although they preferred his works that showed splashing waves, the price was prohibitive and they ended up selecting an autumn scene, this autumn scene.

I liked it well enough at first, but then, over the years, twenty to thirty years, I began to tire of the picture. Part of the reason was that it seemed "dated". I thought it was time for my parents to revisit their living facilities and try to move into a newer decade of home decor. I had a friend whose parents had almost the exact same picture, painted from a slightly different perspective. In fact, they had met the artist who informed them that these were his "bread and butter" paintings.

In later years, I was surprised to see yet another version of the same painting, a winter scene at the home of my inlaws. Mr. Jalava seemed to be doing well in the "bread and butter" department. I also learned that there was a sister-in-law, Anna Jalava who painted similar scenes. I don't recall the exact location of the works, but they were painted near an Ontario cottage which the Jalava family owned.

After my dad died, the painting was homeless. We took it in. For awhile, it was hanging in our basement hallway. I hesitated to part with it...nostalgia I suppose. I still didn't particularly care for the colours or style. It didn't match my tastes at all, nor did it fit into my small house.

I researched similar paintings. Most were in the $325 price range. Some were even marked "sold". I decided that this was too small an amount of money to part with a piece of my family's history.

Imagine my surprise one day recently, when my daughter in law, admired the picture. "I really like that painting and the frame matches our furniture really well." she said. I remembered their grand house with its spectacular and tastefully decorated formal living, dining room containing French provincial furnishings. I had an idea.

Erkki Jalava would have a good home. I could visit from time to time. Everyone would be happy.

*Erkki Jalava

 The Jalava family arrived from Helsinki Finland in 1952 and included Mauri and Anna-Liisa Jalava, Mauri’s brother Erkki and his wife, also named Anna-Liisa, their mother Orvokki and Mauri’s brother-in-law, Paavo Hyttinen. Mauri Jalava had worked in Finland as location manager for two studios and as a freelancer for Finnish movie trade magazines. His wife Anna-Liisa was an accomplished artist, as was Mauri’s brother Erkki.

Erkki Jalava is listed in the National Gallery of Canada archives.