22. Kicking and screaming into the 21st century

How fantastic the internet is!!!

Oh it’s probably all ho-hum to you lot, but you see I am a real newcomer to this. My Husband/Manager Bryan has been looking after my old website and anything electronic since forever and I swore black and blue that I was just not INTERESTED and did not even know how to turn the stupid thing on! I used to say when asked that I still marvelled at the invention of lighting a match.

Well how things change….I got a laptop for Christmas and here we are and now I think it is the best thing since sliced bread and my children and husband say, welcome to the 21^st century.

One of the fabulous advantages for me has been the reconnection with my Swedish relatives through Face book which is another thing I so love. The time just runs away when you are on that, so parents don’t be so hard on your kids, they can’t help it, time speeds up I swear. Lol Really nice to meet so many new face book friends too.

Anyway had a message from my cousin, whose mother had bought 3 of my paintings at my Swedish show a few years back. He had heard that I often paint the family in my work and asked where we were. His question was “Where is Waldo?” (The Swedes have a funny way with translations; it should be Wally, right lol)

So I sent him this picture of “Pottering at the Port” so he could compare and find us in the other paintings (we are on top of the lighthouse on the right hand side Bryan in an orange shirt, little Kai and Hillivi and me next to them waving. No clue who is next to us, never spoke to them, so never found out! Lol)

You see I nearly always paint us as we were when the kids were little. Hillivi will be forever 4 and Kai 8 years old. I don’t know why I do that; perhaps it is because they were just mine and Bryans then.

We did not have to share them with boyfriends and girlfriends and work and just life.

They will forever be my baby girl and baby boy and I still call them that today, as you can imagine that was not a cool thing to be called during the awkward teenage years but they coped well with their mothers little idiosyncrasies. Although understandably teenage son at 18 was less than pleased when I called him my little” Possum Poo “in front of his new girlfriend, I think as I remember I got a bit of silent treatment then, well deserved too, but I swear it just slipped out. The lights were on but there was no one home. Lol