*Still laying on couch*
Well Mr. Blog,
Sorry I got all choked up over a stupid
dried out daisy.
*lays tiny said
daisy on chest*
So on Tuesday
Troy comes home from school and tells
me that the Klondike Museum that
he and Carlos went to last week-end
does not count towards his art class!
UGH! I tried to tell them that!
I swear to God Mr. Blog,
you can't tell a sixteen year old boy
ANYTHING!
Well, I knew I was working Thursday and Friday
and I wanted to work Wednesday so bad,
but my kid is more important
than anything in the
world to me so I
had to block out
and find a suitable nearby gallery.
He won't go anywhere with me willingly since I'm not,
"Kwel." They can't even spell it! C-O-O-L!!! Ugh!
So Wednesday afternoon
it was another gloomy day in Kookmore
and Troy and I hopped in my van for Kirkland.
The Howard Mandville Gallery
had a nice big sign and it was very
easy to spot!
We parked right next to it and went inside
and I was so proud of that rotten kid of mine.
While at home
he acts like he was
raised by wolves,
I was shocked and delighted at the words
that came out of his peach-fuzz, surrounded mouth!
"Excuse me maam, I am here for a school project
and wondered if I could trouble you
for some art information."
I was like, WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?!
In my head of course.
I knew better than to try to stay with him
so I wandered off and looked at the paintings
and sculptures and I was in a state of awe.
I don't think I'd been to a gallery
since I was in London at the National Gallery in 1989.
Theresa and I had buddy-bid job-shared with a few
senior mamas to work the non-stops from
Denver to London and I had convinced my mom
to get her passport and go with us.
They even upgraded her to First Class!
She wanted to see everything and the National Gallery
was on her list so we went took a red double-decker bus to
Trafalger Square and found it.
Anyway, back to Troy.
I could overhear him talking like a well-mannered adult
to the gallery curator as I enjoyed the art.
I was so amazed at the paintings that
I was getting really short on breath and
had to remind myself to breathe a few times.
There was one painting of Friday Harbor
that stopped me in my tracks.
I had stood at that exact spot on the hill
where the painter had painted it from!!!
It was the most beautiful painting I had ever seen
because it captured a decade of memories for me.
Memories of spending a week up on San Juan Island
at Mar Vista resort with Terry and the kids
every year since Troy was born.
One year, mom and Lyle decided
to take a Kenmore Air Harbor float plane up to meet us!
Troy was six, and we left Terry and Teddy over
at the cabin and drove to town and stood
on the hill above the harbor watching
for their float plane.
In the EXACT spot the painting was painted!
When we saw the plane,
we ran down the hill together,
laughing our heads off,
and out onto the dock to meet the float plane.
Oh, back to the gallery.
Well Mr. Blog, as you can imagine
I love, love, loved that painting
but it was $14,000.000 so I didn't buy it.
Troy finished his report and we drove home
and turned right at Seattle Supplements
down our little road.
I saw our handsome garbage man, Anatolia,
collecting garbage at the boat store and
waved out the window to him.
He didn't see me and Troy said,
"He didn't see you mom. You are abnormally friendly."
We were rolling past Plywood Supply and he said with irritation,
"Mom, did you take some class or something?
You are way too friendly."
And I said,
"No class,
that's just how God made me."
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