I love this sketch of Mary Wotten, Lady Guildford by Hans Holbein. She looks like she is carefree, happy, young. You just know she laughed at bawdy jokes and made fun of what her rivals wore to court. She was a woman I would want to sit next to and laugh aloud with her. I must admit I cotton to the saying: if you cannot say anything nice come sit next to me. The tragedy of this sketch is that Holbein never got to paint her like this. Her husband the esteemed Lord Guildford decided it was not matronly enough for his new bride. He wanted her looking more respectable. You have to wonder if the guy was any fun in bed for Mary. Anyway the results are tragic. The finished results which were no doubt hung in the most public place of her home and now the St. Louis Art Museum do not show Lady Guildford to her best advantage. It is like a bad booking photo on the cover of the National Enquirer. I have to wonder if Mary just laughed it off and made fun of her husband for preferring her to look so severe.
Okay enough of Mary. My companion and I went to the Family Fest in the park and volunteered to help at the children's art's and craft booth. Okay, we really didn't volunteer for that, but when we showed up that is where they needed help. So we worked for about 2 hours in the hot sun with children who barked out "excuse me" as if it were a command. I am so glad I have no children. Anyway, in the middle of all of this, my vile ex-boss showed up. Natalie kept threatening to spit on him. Of course the jerk showed up to politic and get his picture taken. Meanwhile I had toiled over plans for the park improvement for months and worked in the hot sun watering plants, picking up trash, and then with rude children barking orders at me and he is the one who gets his photo taken. Oh well, I say his karma is going to be a bitch.
I continue to work on my knitting project, the green afghan of despair, with no end in site (okay I lie I am 3 sections from the end, but I am trying to be dramatic here) and the deadline is here. So I must accept what the Yarn Harlot http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/ says I should just go out and buy my friend a punch bowl. Oh well, live, learn and buy more yarn. I am trying so hard to not think that my bad choices for a present are not somehow a reflection on the friend who the gift is for. However, I think he managed through some voodoo trick to influence my choice of this project and I blame him for the hours I have spent knitting like a fiend to get this thing done. I know if anyone could do such a sneaky, underhanded, no account, lowdown thing it would be him. Maybe I should reassess my choice in friends? It is ashamed Mary Wotton isn't available.