Last week I went into a store in town to buy some lingerie. While I was in the store I thought I’d look for a good pair of house slippers, since the store carries the Naturalizer brand that Mom always recommended as a quality shoe. Dad’s visit to a podiatrist some time ago, when he was having foot pain, garnered the information that people like him and me, with high arches, should never go barefoot in the house; we should wear shoes with sturdy support. The store didn’t have any slippers but did have one pair of backless leather slip-ons in a size 6 for $100, so I bought them. And they’re great. I’ve been wearing them around the house, taking them off before going outside, and am often reminded of Mom when I see them on my feet. And dare I yet say that my feet don’t get sore after standing at the kitchen cupboard for a couple hours?

Spending that $100 required some quick second thought though. I still have a habit of thinking that someday I’ll have lots of money to buy better quality and more expensive personal items, but that right now I am just squeaking by and can make do with cheaper stuff. And when is this far-off day I imagine is going to come? I’m 48 already, and I can manage to buy a pair of $100 shoes that I will certainly get my money’s worth out of. It is foolish to keep living with $20 shoes (or more often I buy them for $2 at garage sales) if they are not what I want; they end up worn for only a short time before they’re falling apart or I’m not wearing them any more because I don’t really like them. These ones, however, I love.

When I was in Saskatoon in the early spring I went to an antique store to see if they had any jewellery that appealed to me. While there I saw this painting and stood in front of it, tempted, for some time. The dancing people in the picture exhibit such joy that I wanted to bring it home, but talked myself out of it. We have no extra wall space as it is; already we have framed pictures with no place to hang.

I couldn't stop thinking about the painting though, and when I was in the city again a couple months later, I told myself if it was still there, I'd buy it. And it was. It's an unsigned painting but on the back is a tag upon which is printed both "Tenier" and "Festa Campetre," so I started doing some internet research.

From what I can see, it's a sort of copy of a 17th century painting called "Flemish Kermess," by David Tenier the Younger. The basic structure of the painting is the same ... the church in the background on the left, the building in the right forefront, the dancing crowd, the folks seated at the table. Surely my painting was not done by Tenier (after all, I only paid $35 for it), but I am a sucker for pictures of people having fun. For now it's hanging on the wall in my office, overlapping my Canada Council arts calendar and a brim of Grandpa's fedora.

Due to my attraction to people during happy moments, although I am not particularly a fan of Marilyn Monroe I have an almost life-size framed-glass black and white photo of her famously standing over the hot air grate, barely holding down her skirt. The gorgeous 1950s sex kitten appears to be feeling beautiful and enjoying being admired. What gal has never felt that way at some time in her life?

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