In continuation of my newly rediscovered diary of a short period in 1998, I must have been thinking about a good friend of my family…
Thelma is almost 80-years old. She has known me since I was in the sixth-grade, and was my Mom’s best friend for years. She does ceramics; makes greeting cards; paints; sews; volunteers at the senior center; helps people who need clothes, food, money; encourages people with educational goals; makes things and gives them away or sells them cheap, like bowls, mugs, plates, figurines (made warped on purpose or normal shapes), trash can mugs, pencil holders, ceramic whistles, greeting cards in unusual styles; and the list goes on.
I’ve found Thelma Things all over San Diego county. The chiropractor’s wife has several things. I do. I had a secret pal a few years ago and I thought I was being smart to give her a trash can mug Thelma had made. Thelma signs her work TJ on the bottom. A couple of months later, my secret pal told me (at the unveiling) that she knew I had been her secret pal because I was the only one she knew who was acquainted with Thelma. Oh well. She had several Thelma Things.
I would like to be known like that. I want people to remember me by My Things, to touch people’s lives with the fruit of my hands, the labor of my brain.