MY FATHER'S DESK
As a good memory to my father is made his desk in miniature.

I have put the desk in a cardboard box.
He always sat at his desk, writing. I used the paper with his handwriting to glue on the outside of the box.

The picture on the left shows the full size desk; the picture on the right is the miniature desk.
My mother’s picture hangs on the wall.

The pictures beneath are from the miniature desk.
Our dear friend Jean Damery made the desk, the chair, the lamp and the working letter scales .
He did a tremendous job. You can hardly see what is miniature and what is full size.
After that I made the accessories. My sister-in-law made the little statue for one of his birthdays, our children made the two little penholders for him and now I made them in miniature.
And also his pen case with the typical roller ball pens, the writing set with blotting paper and his dairy.

This is exact how his desk always looked like.
The little notes with our telephone numbers and the shopping lists.
And a letter for the bank waiting to be posted.
His mother of pearl pocket knife which I admired so much when I was a child.
He always opened his mail with it.

As he taught German, English and French he could not do
without his dictionaries.
The same with his other books and maps.


In a desk drawer are his last memories.
In the red notebook he made his last notes in hospital.
In the yellow envelope are his last wishes for his children.

Every year, on the 4th of June, my father gave my mother a field bouquet
They were my mother's favourites.
Until gradually the original flowers were replaced.
The cornflower became an iris, the poppy became a carnation, the daisy a chrysanthemum, etc.
Until only the colors reminded of a field bouquet and my mother didn't like it anymore.