Our time here in Mexico is drawing to a close. Two months has slipped by effortlessly, one day after the next. Cold nights have turned to cool and are trending to warmer. The air has become even drier as central Mexico heads into the zenith of its dry season. We will be home during those punishing months of April and May before the blessed rains start, God willing, in June.
But what a time these past two months have been! Construction on our outdoor sala and shower began in earnest back in January, soon after we arrived. We have finally been able to move to completion a project seven years in the making. Our dream of a modest place for more outdoor living, perfect here in year-round moderate temperatures, as well as a place for art workshops, morphed into something more elaborate with the added bonus of an outdoor shower space. But then things rarely turn out the way you plan.
One question we get is, Why an outdoor shower? Well, that was a dream since staying at a small hotel on the north shores of Bali back in 2005. Our modest room, that was more like a north woods cabin complete with high rafters and plank built-in closets on one side of the room, had a small bathroom with sink and toilet at the back with a door that opened to an enclosed area open to the sky. It’s “floor” was the ground covered in small river rock, and on the outside back wall of our room was a shower head with a squat stump of wood just below for you to stand on while you showered. In that little courtyard open to the sky there were a few tropical plants and overhead were trees and the blue tropical Pacific sky. Dave and I fell in love with it and vowed we’d make something similar some day if we had the chance. And so we do, and so we have built our own rendition.
During our time here in Alcocer I’ve completed a commission that I obtained back in November. This from a dear friend who has always admired my work. I enjoy doing commissions, but this one was special to create something as a treasure for my friend, something that she had envisioned from one of her many trips abroad.
I also have envisioned a new series which I will begin in earnest once we are back in Paducah. I’ve submitted a couple grants to assist with the series as it will be a long-term project which will need some outside backing. Wish me luck. Watch for previews as things progress.
I work two sides of my brain and sometimes it feels like neither functions very well. At this certain age I suppose that’s to be expected. They say doing complex activities keeps the dimentia at bay, and if that’s the case I should never have to worry. To help feed my creative side, at least until I’m “discovered,” I work as a nurse a couple days a week. In spite of the work being extremely stressful and sometimes down right impossible, I love what I do.
Nurses don’t always get a lot of credit. Doctors are canonized and are portrayed in heroic parts in movies and TV shows. But those of us in the trenches know it’s absolutely true that you better have a good, smart, savvy nurse when your body starts sending signals it’s trying to check out early. So this Spring I thought it might be nice to do something a little special for my fellow comrades-in-arms. Something more than a carnation (one hospital I worked for in the past gave all its nurses a carnation on Nurses’ Day) or the hospital-wide activities that aren’t specific enough to let each of those I work with know how special they are.
So I did what I do best with the side of my brain that “relaxes” when I’m at work as a nurse. I painted a picture that could be turned into a banner with each of their names on it. It didn’t take a lot to sell the idea to my manager, and I’m happy to say that if you come to my unit, one of the first things you’ll see when you step off the elevator is my banner. People notice and I like to think it’s made a difference.
Nurse for all seasons, which is exactly what we are.
I love my job because I love the people I work with. They’re an incredible group of people who care desperately about the patients who find themselves on our unit.
I hope you’re never “lucky” enough to meet us there.
We went to the DuQuoin State Fair a couple years ago in southern Illinois. It brought back a lot of fond memories of growing up in Indiana and making the annual trek to their state fair. This one was a much smaller version, but there were still all the animal barns and 4-H competitions for cooking and sewing. The big difference was the emphasis on horses and horse races. We wandered through barn after barn of horses readying for sulky races and waiting inside their stalls for the next big event.
This guy caught my eye immediately for his rich chestnut color. (Yes, I know he’s bay, as evidenced by his mane, but I insist that his red is a chestnut.) I just couldn’t walk past him, he was that striking. His handler standing near by cautioned me that he was a biter, and though I’d never dream of just casually lifting my hand to stroke a strange horse’s nose, he didn’t seem too menacing. I decided to err on the side of caution and just look from afar all the same.
These many months later I wish I’d written down his name and where he came from. He’ll have to remain an unknown champion to me. I can’t imagine him of the devilish grin as anything else.