supper

This boy eating his supper alone (loosely based on a painting by the amazing Carl Larsson called "Evening Meal" - see the original at web site below) reminds of those times when I would be left at the table alone to finish a meal, long after everyone else had finished. I can't remember telling my own children "You're not leaving the table until you eat your supper!" but I may have done so, cruelly echoing my own mother's imperative. This child doesn't seem to be bothered much, whatever his reason for eating alone may be; maybe he is just got hungry and is eating his supper early, not waiting for anyone else. I wish every child could sit down to supper whenever she felt it was time to eat and be fed without thinking anything of it, as I did, as my children did, as my grandchildren do. http://scandinaviantreasures.com/website1/pages/CLEVEN1.htm

at the beach

These three friends are playing in the chilly waters of the Pacific. I always wondered about the veracity of paintings of children at the beach wearing sweaters and jackets, but have learned first-hand that even ice-cold ocean water is no deterrent to a child! Naturally, the lovely tow-headed daughter of my former teaching buddy is the smartest, leaving the water after a quick splash.

baby cups

When you paint silver, you are really painting whatever you see reflected there. Most of these cups came to me from my dear late mother-in-law and I treasure them. One is monogrammed and dented, and I can almost hear the clatter of it banging on the metal high chair tray of the toddler who would grow up to be my husband. His mom would certainly have let him use it. I gave up using the precious silver spoons my children received as baby gifts after the last one took a spin in the disposal. The tall goblet has my monogram and came to me as a bridesmaid's gift from my cousin's wedding long ago. The champaigne I drank out of it that day did it for me forever. I love that cup, not because of the champaigne, but because of the memory it holds of the tow-headed boy cousin who took great delight in filling and refilling it for me that long afternoon.

Ronald and Martha, circa 1930

I have a very few pictures of my dad as a child, like this one with his sister, wearing coats, but I can't imagine why. They lived in South Florida, where winters rarely required more than sweaters. They were the fifth and sixth of eight children, so it is hard to imagine there having been money enough for luxuries like coats. They do look sharp, though, in their 1930's haircuts, my dad's arm around his sister's shoulder. He was no doubt trying to keep her still for the camera. He kept that arm around others' shoulders all of his life, hoping to keep them out of harm's way.

cousins in summer, l950

In this painting of my Florida cousins, they all look pretty serious. They were most likely just blazing hot. Just outside the painting, on the step, were the little foot and handprint impressions of the siblings who lived in this house, which my uncle built for his family. My dad used to tell the story of how he would buy as many concrete blocks as he could afford, then build on the house as far as he could until he could save up to buy more blocks.