Yesterday in the morning, I opened my eyes and felt joy. Spring is near, the room wasn’t dark anymore -the sun was raising, and so was I. Today in the morning at the same time it was dark again. We had turned the clocks forward last night, back to daylight-saving time.
Too often I see the elderly talking, instead of listening. They -just like me- think they know it all, and they are so eager to spread their wisdom. That’s a curse we carry on our shoulders, and it gets more cumbersome with each passing year. The urge to enlighten the youth gets stronger and stronger.
Today I spent 5 minutes searching under my bed for the socks, that I thought I had to wear when I went to bed last night. I am not really sure how I do it, but I think I pull them off during the night, and then somehow the poor socks fly through the bedroom, and end up at places no sock should be.
My husband, the wonderful man by my side, who is no longer allowed to buy pictures or art without my supervision, outdid himself. Somehow he sneaked out and bought another picture. Where does he find them you ask? In an art Galerie? In a store? No, my husband finds his art bargains in a resale shop or at estate sales -bless his little heart.
“Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl that she used to be.
