Move over, Rodin!

Now I'm a sculpter!
I've had a couple of blocks of Sculpey for years. It's a polymer clay that stays soft until you bake it. They look like they could be porcelain. It's way fun, but I wish I had a better imagination. I did a search on Etsy to get ideas, and then started playing with my clay. It felt like pre-school, or kindergarten! Course, there was alcohol involved...

Calla Lily Earrings



White Rose Earrings, gold hooks

White Rose Necklace

White Rose Earrings, sterling

And here's that cat I finally finished. Now it's not Rocky anymore, it's a Jaguar.

Depending on how thick the piece is, I "cook'em" in the convection oven for an hour or so, WITHOUT heating up the casita. And yes, if you forget they're in there, they turn brown...

So Sculpey Clay got added to my list for the next Tucson trip. And can my Kino Amigas guess what they're getting for birthday gifts this winter?

Pretty Cool (if I do say so myself!)

Really enjoying having nothing to do and all day to do it. The OMG-It's So-Hot weather has abated, gets down to 70 overnight and highs maybe low 90s at most. Gorgeous, balmy mornings and evenings. But late morning and early afternoon, I go into the RV, turn on the AC, and open up CRAFT CENTRAL.

Here's a pendant I made with Sculpey clay. I bake them in the convection oven. It's my casita! Look at the photo at the top of my blog:

It's only i inch wide, complete with purple railings and cortinas! As well as leaning palapa roof...

This one is baked, but unfinished. Manana... My mean cat Rocky...



I'm sewing again. Lost some weight this summer, and nothing fits. I've discovered I can take clothes I don't wear, and combine tops and bottoms to make DRESSES I probably won't wear!



The top one was a denim sleeveless blouse and a lined summer skirt. I hate skirts, probably because I no longer have a waist, per se. I like unstructured dresses that hang from my shoulders.

The white one was a size 3 long pleated skirt from a thrift store. The waist was actually 20 inches, but something made me cough up $1 for it. Who has a 20 inch waist? (Actually, all these "parts" are from thrift stores) And the tropical print was the part I cut off when I shortened another dress. It may be a nightgown now, too shapeless to wear in public. Maybe a "wandering in the yard" dress?

The last one was one of those long, gauzy, broomstick skirts. I just sewed it to a pale green embroidered linen tanktop. But then I had to line the skirt, because you could see right through it. It's lined with a filmy curtain, from which I cut off the lace header to use in another project some day...

This is mi favorito! It was an ankle-length Mom-Jumper, $1 at a segunda. I made it just above knee-length, then painted wildflowers on the pocket with fabric paint. Added a lime green T shirt. Really cute, and way too young for me, but I'll wear it anyway. It gots pockets!



So that's what I've been doing. Plus, my husband and I have begun playing online poker TOGETHER, just play money. It's way fun! He's on the PC, I'm on the laptop, we register for the same tournament (usually a 45 man) and I refuse to tell him when he should fold.  Pretty sure it's illegal to do that, but it's only play money, so maybe not? We almost always end up at the final table together, but I'm only "in the money" about 1/2 the time. Ron's much better, close to 90 %.

Today I'm still in my jammies at 3:30 PM. Too late to get dressed now, huh?

In My Next Life...

I sort of believe in reincarnation, that we get another chance to get it right. To avoid or correct mistakes from the last life is comforting to me, and actually explains a lot. I often think or say aloud "in my next life" when pondering the past, as a means of atonement, perhaps. It is effectively an admission of error, regret, and resolve to improve, all without the burden of fixing things in this life. Here are some "Promises To Self" for my next life:

In my next life:

• I will be born to TWO parents without too much baggage, who were themselves raised in a loving home with engaged parents, and who have a healthy, positive sense of self-worth. I believe DNA to be only 1/2 the equation. The other 1/2 is what happens after.

...nuff said

Jack and Kelly Osborne...

• I will save 10% of every dime I earn in mayonnaise jars.
• I will have lifelong girlfriends, and work hard to maintain those friendships.

My friend Kitzie

My friend Cathy, far right. I'm second from left.

Me and my friend Vick

(Sorry, Marlene, still looking for a photo of you. Will add when I find it...)

• I will choose my mate from a short list of men who were also from families like the above. Whose mother did not pick up his dirty socks for him (past the age of 5), or put her own needs/wants above those of her child. He will have been raised to be a mensch. This man will already have finished school and be gainfully employed in a stable field, OR  inherited a lucrative cattle-ranch. He will cherish me, treat me like a queen (as opposed to a princess, which smacks of Oedipalism...), and not resent or forever work to exceed my own talents/skills with lifelong one-up-manship. WHO HAS MY BACK. In turn I will cherish his every atom and honor him for the god he is. He might occasionally dress up like a pirate...

(This is NOT meant to denigrate the two husbands I've had, who together with me have abetted the production of the finest group of children/grandchildren in existence.This is a fantasy, what I wish next time.)

• I will choose a career that does not involve making life-or-death decisions, and does not consume me or follow me home at night. Maybe something to do with crafting. Welding giant yard sculptures from junkyard parts that sell for many thousands?

• Either I or my mate will have the ability to be at home with the child (yes, again only one) until said child starts school.
• My child will have lots of playmates and cousins and spend his/her childhood in joyful pursuits.

•  Daily, he/she will witness parents doing the right thing, loving each other unconditionally, paying bills on time, telling the truth,  and will grow up with the expectation that there is no other option.  
• There will be no tobacco or drugs, and minimal alcohol in my life. Or my mate's.
• I will discover Mexico earlier.

• I will be physically active, fit and strong.

• I will use moisturizer with sunscreen.
• I will go to the dentist twice annually.
• Our motor vehicles will also have regular and routine maintenance.
• I will employ a housekeeper and maintenance man/gardener.

• I will eat because I'm hungry and not to fill emotional voids. (Although bacon, shrimp, tomatoes, avocados and coconut ice cream will comprise the majority of my diet.)
• There will already have been invented an effective scorpion/snake/spider/bee/no-see-um repellent. Or vaccine.
• If I'm again nearsighted, I will have Lasik surgery early, using money from my mayonnaise jars.
• I will grow tomatoes, learn to cook, learn to swim, learn to dance, eat fruit, watch the sun rise, stay up late, and take catnaps.

Get it? Catnap...

Of all this, the part I regret the most and look forward to "fixing" in My Next Life is the girlfriends part. I'm loving my new Gringas Viejas life here in Kino Bay. How much more joy would there be if we had been friends from childhood?

Travel Nursing: One Last Rant

I'm officially retired after 34 years as a Dialysis RN, and there are still a few bridges left to burn. Let's start with the end: my one and only stint as a Dialysis Travel Nurse.

Gazillions of companies to choose from, all of whose emails never ever go away. Wide variability in benefits, salaries, perks. I picked THE ONE company that didn't pay a completion bonus at the end of my contract. Go figure. Their website is classic bait and switch.

• Reimbursement for obtaining state nursing license. (Yeah, AFTER your 13 week contract is over.) But no reimbursement for actually driving to/from Phoenix, staying in a hotel, the required fingerprinting, the $30 internet charge to document current licensure in my home state...
• Actual travel reimbursement to and from your assignment. (Unless you live in Mexico.)
• There were $800 of unreimbursed medical expenses prior to actually signing, not mentioned anywhere on their website, and pre-employment medical screening is not covered by my private health insurance. They required a recent Medical Release (physical), blood tests to prove Varicella and Hepatitis immunity, and a Mantoux. Plus 2 days in a hotel to await the reading of the Mantoux. The only thing they covered was the drug screen. I have never in 34 years had to pay for my own Hepatitis Antibody test. Faxing all this from Staples? $30, unreimbursed.
• Completely furnished apartment provided. Seriously? The merchants of Show Low AZ benefitted greatly after my arrival there. You'll need lamps (you only get ONE), light bulbs, waste baskets, laundry basket, pillows, bedding, towels, plates, cups, bowls, glasses, cutlery, utensils, pots and pans, broiler pan, cooking and serving ware, toaster and coffee maker, ice cube trays, bathroom rug/mat, TV, DVD player, radio, a frickin' cable for the cable TV, flashlight and candles for power outages, shower curtain and rings, paper towel holder, and a hook for your bathrobe. Really, no light bulbs?
• It's RENTAL FURNITURE. Not new, not even clean. My recliner had a toddler's dirty sock and a  child's plastic watch in it, plus CheeTos. And my bed was infested with bed bugs, which led to 3 weeks in a cheap motel (because MY agency's "cap" on lodging was $70/day) while my building underwent extermination. That was a nightmare.
• 24 hour on-call support. My recruiter never once answered her phone, always voice mail. So you press 0 to get the switchboard, and that person says you have to go through your recruiter. I explain why I cannot wait for her to return my call (bedbugs, whatever) and that I need to speak to housing NOW. I get voice mail... I press 0...
• The job itself wasn't anything new. After doing this 34 years, I would hope not. They did have an even stupider-more-antiquated-computer-program to learn than the one I was used to. And while I was hired as a Charge Nurse, I worked 75% of my shifts as a Patient Care Tech. And when I WAS scheduled as Charge, I didn't get the promised $3/hour extra Charge pay that was in my contract, because that dialysis company doesn't HAVE charge nurses in Arizona. They have something called a Team Leader instead, who doesn't even necessarily have to be on the premises that day "but is always available for questions or help".  Yeah, right. Never did figure out who my Team Leader was. Probably the Clinical Manager (who is terrific), because the other RN was too new to be a resource. I did like the staff there, and the patients were mostly great (after they realized I knew what I was doing). Fairly even mix of Apaches, Mexicans, and affluent white transients who vacation there. One Apache woman taught me to say "How are you?" in Apache, which turned out to REALLY be "How're they hanging?" Very funny.

Would I do it again? Well, no, because I'm retired now. But yes, if I had to work again. I'd ask more questions, negotiate a better contract, and require a bed bug inspection before I move in. And now that I know what a Furnished Apartment is..This is pasted from their website:

  Your apartment will be in move-in condition complete with furniture and utilities all prearranged for you.
  When you arrive at your destination (usually two days before your assignment starts), you only need to pick up your key, unpack and start learning your way around town.

Like learning where to buy light bulbs so I can find the frickin' toilet...
 

We are SELF-CONTAINED!

But MAN, we're crowded in here now!

Stopped to pick up a bed frame at IKEA on the way home from the airport. Ron assembled it quite handily, and while only pine, seems very well made.

Monday I drove back to Hermosillo alone while Ron rearranged furniture. I'd seen pillowtop mattresses at both WalMart and Sam's Club for 1490 pesos ($112), and we decided to just put plywood under it. I did get lost in Hermo for a while, because my detour had a detour, and nothing looked familiar. Finally found WalMart, bought the mattress, stopped on the way home at LaRumba (GREAT hardware store in Miguel Aleman) for the plywood. Bed assembled, made, slept on, perfect. Here's how the furniture's been arranged FOR NOW. I'm dissatisfied with the crowdedness of it, it may change.

Double bed in corner, with Jack Sparrow watching me...

Screen divider

Futon at an angle for traffic flow

Not much traffic flow...

Baskets for clothes, walking stick for hanging stuff, laundry basket beneath

So no more wild dance parties inside the casita, it's too crowded. We shut off the AC in the fifth wheel and it's just sitting there, clean, ready for guests...

And here are a few more photos from Minnesota I forgot were in the camera.

Jon taking the kids to Montessori. Yes, Dylan has a mohawk...

They're holding hands!!!

Nora got the sunglasses at Savers thrift store.

Eli and Ruby after school

Caprice's yard. Biggest hostas I ever saw.

And that's all I know.

Home Sweet Home

So my awful summer is over, and I'm home in Kino Bay for good. But first!

Our Minnesota Trip

We drove to Tucson on Sept. 9 so Ron could be seen at the VA there. However, someone in their eligibility department had cancelled his appointment without notification. Now rescheduled for early October. It had already been a headache of a day, because the truck was making a loud "something's dragging" noise the whole way, and Ron couldn't see what it was. Nor did he want to get it looked at before it became something horrible. (I think I heard my dad rolling in his grave.) In Tucson, we found a Big O shop by the VA that advertised brake repairs, and drove away 3 hours later with a new drive-carrier-thingy and minus $300. Not too bad. Got a motel room and crashed.

Flew out of Phoenix the next morning to Minneapolis on Southwest. Rented a car, and drove to daughter #3 Julie's house in St. Paul. SO great to see those faces! Just a quick visit, then drove to St. Cloud to stay at Jon's overnight. More great faces! Next day a reunion dinner at daughter #1 Caprice's house, and my friend Kristin joined us with her daughters. LOTS of great faces there! That night back to Julie's. Next night at Jon's. Then up to friends Brian and Joy's place in Dalbo. (That was poker night at a lakeside bar. None of us won, but had tons-o-fun.) Then a night at Caprice's house (shopping and Olive Garden for me and Caprice, billiards for Ron and Don), followed by the last two nights at Julie's with backyard campfires.

Flew back to Phoenix Saturday, where Ron proceeded to have a cardiac event: racing erratic heartbeat, sweaty, fatigue, short-of-breath. He didn't want to go to the ER, but we weren't anxious to leave the vicinity of medical care should it be required, so we stayed at the Desert Diamond Casino Hotel. Next morning, he was OK, so we drove home. Oh! We'd left the new air conditioner on in the casita the whole week FOR THE CAT and it was 68 degrees in there! YAY! Still summer here, upper 90s with high humidity.

Now we need a vacation from our vacation. Here are some photos:

Chef Don, Ron, Kristin

Jon

Caprice, Leben

Julie

Nora, Eli, Dylan

Max

Ruby

Nora

Eli, Ruby, Ron

Almost the whole family, plus one...

All because two people fell in love...

On Becoming A Geezer

Aging is an interesting experience. "Seniors" are punchlines to jokes, judging from the email forwards from friends (very few of which I find humorous, as I have a very sophisticated dry/black sense of humor). Since my early teens, I have loved and valued Old Folks, envied their wisdom, experience, and their non-chaotic settled life. Drama-free. Time to savor life's moments. I was SO looking forward to Becoming A Geezer! But the reality is a bit of a letdown...

Body Parts Warrantee.

• Gravity. Maybe Seniors on planets with less gravity than our Earth look better than we do? From my jowls to my bosom to my butt, everything moves south like Minnesota Snowbirds. Most of it also gravitated around to my abdomen. Handy place to find food I've dropped, though. Helps avoid having to pick it up off the floor, which hurts my knees, which is why those reacher/grabber tools are SO nice.

• Knees. Now THOSE are replaceable, I know, but still...First thing out of bed in the morning, having to check the daily knee status to see how your day is going to go, decide to medicate or not, can pretty shoes be worn, or will it have to be something sturdy and sensible?

• Vision. Nearsighted at birth, I had glasses at age 4. Contacts at 14. Back to glasses with bifocals late 20s when the bifocal contacts proved painful. Then a series of stronger and stronger myopia/bifocal prescriptions. Now the bifocal part of my glasses is only effective for that distance between my face and the speedometer in the truck. Anything closer requires taking them off. Reading, computer, crocheting, everything. I can't light my cigarette without taking off my glasses. And how the hell does one find one's glasses in the morning without one's glasses?

• Pigmentation. Where does it go? (Yes, I know, age spots) I was born with blond hair on my head, but dark brows, lashes, and everywhere else (if you get my drift). The hair on my head started turning white early on, but it looked sort of salon-frosted, so I didn't mind. But the white hair "everywhere else" is a shock to see every day.

• Speaking of shocks. It seems that crushing chest pain episode I had recently was a mild heart attack. All these years of abusing my body by what I put into it and not exercising  lead to only one thing: lots of medical tests. I almost need a secretary to manage my doctor appointments schedule. But they do give me something to do, somewhere to go. Apparently that's how seniors are meant to fill those empty hours of retirement. I'm thankful to realize this, was a little worried.

Financial Security

This might be laughable, but a fixed income is no laughing matter. What do you mean I can't buy what I want whenever I want it? Should have saved more. What a concept! A registered nurse for 35 years, I miss my salary more than anything else, except maybe my dignity.

Dignity

Loss of. I remember being SO embarrassed of my mother when I was 13. She could be relied upon to chauffeur me to events with her hair in rollers and a gaudy headscarf tied over it. But I'm learning to accept my own loss of dignity. Took the cat out for a walk today wearing my flannel Lucy Ricardo pajama pants, Crocs, and a stained T-shirt without a bra. But I'm almost positive nobody saw me.

Reverence

Nobody reveres me like I always revered seniors. The kids don't even call. I suppose we reap what we sow, but you'd THINK my valuable advice, opinions, and experiences  would be sought more often. Or occasionally. Or even annually. Ingrates! Hence this blog...


And then you die.

It's so hard when you lose your grandparents, then your parents, but when your peers start dropping off, it's a real eye-opener. One major force in my botched child-rearing is the compelling urge to spare my children from pain and heartache. I find myself slowly withdrawing from their lives, possibly hoping that my eventual death will not be the gut-wrenching, OMG-this-is-too-painful-to-bear experience I went through in losing my dad. (No, I'm not a saint like my dad was, so it's probably overkill to worry. But still...)  Sure, I want them to miss me, remember me sometimes, but sweet, funny little memories rather than an aching sense of loss. To spare them that pain would mean the world to me.