Stolen words

"I'm basically a huge coward about making new friends. I'm awesome at making acquaintances. But actual friends? As a grown-up? It all feels like such a risk. It's not uncommon for me to know someone for years before we decide if we like each other enough to make the transition from chatting in Target to actually being real friends."

http://www.rantsfrommommyland.com/2013/12/for-auld-lang-syne.html?m=1

Worth the read. I thought I only felt this very way because I got "messed up" somewhere along the way. I've blamed my work. I've blamed various losses of important people. I've felt I had even more to feel guilty about because I don't have a passel of kids I'm chasing after as a "good excuse". 

Turns out, I'm normal. I'm validated. 

Nature Friends

We've made lots of animal friends here on the island. The animals make us happy. 

These donkeys and goats live happily together in this spot between the grocery and our resort. 

They are kept in by the cactus fence, but lots of other goats and donkeys just roam about the land feely:

Adam got too close to these dudes for my comfort. I'm probably way too cautious, but the hospital here is tiny (60 beds. But they do have a hyperbaric chamber because of all the diving), and I have no idea how lifting out by air would work, or how long it would take to arrange transfer to a more equipped facility. I digress...back to the animals!

This cutie kept landing on my hammock one afternoon while I was out reading a book about the lives of strippers (free vacation reading, indulge me here!). There's also tons of hummingbirds and some butterflies. The next birds live at the eating place we tend to watch the sun set from more days than not, and where we spent our anniversary evening- Captain Don's. 

They don't really speak, but they squawk a lot. 

We also met this big guy at Captain Don's Habitat:

We didn't bother him much. He had some very pretty pals swimming below his coral perch:

Here's our view from our sunset spot:

There are also an abundance of small lizards of various sizes and colors. Here's one that was just now hanging out with me on our porch....

I don't like the ants or Mosquitos. They bite, so they don't get a blog feature. 

We do have a very special sweet girl we met down by the pool one night. 

She loves cuddles and detests almond milk. 

When we go inside, she sits outside our door and mewls for more attention. 

She's the favorite. 

Here's our favorite sign, on the grocer's door:

"Please put on your clothes before entering"

Guess there's a little bit of animal inside us all. 

Oh, and this guy is my favorite:

Bon Bini!

L. 

Time Outside

Swimming always makes me hungry. Good thing we stocked the kitchen a bit. The tiny fridge is the cutest:

The grocery store within walking distance is called Zhung Kong. It's very expensive. Eggs, bread, and beer are priced cheaply; meats, liquor, and fresh veg are much more than we're used to. 

So, back to swimming...

After we have pool time, there's a bit of work to be done:

This is where the lounging and swimming happen:

This entrance is at the back of our place. 

It takes you down the hall....

And into...

Which is beside...

The pool! We've spent a bunch of time in there. Haven't even been in the ocean yet. The pool is saltwater. The hot tubs are not. They aren't hot either. Which is reasonable...

Before you can switch from the pool to the jacuzzi, you have to rinse off so you don't mess up the sweetwater with the saltwater:

This shower is made from an old telephone pole somebody knocked down with their car. 

It's warmer than I'd expected. 

Next to the shower is my favorite, favorite part!

The library!! You can nap there. It's amazing. The print on the table decor says "EASY LIFE". 

I have to agree. 

Again, note the Ikea design. The owners, Anno and Sebastian, are from Holland. ;)

The books are in Dutch, English, or Spanish. All the magazines are Dutch, but I've enjoyed the pictures.

Today is our actual anniversary day. 

We will go out for dinner tonight at Captain Don's, which is just walking distance down the road. 

Pics from there, and more later!

All love,

L. 

At Home

This is one side of our porch. 

From there we can view the common courtyard:

It's breezy today, as I think it is most days. 

Our sitting area that you approach from the courtyard. It's at the front of the bungalow, around the corner from the table side of the porch. It faces our entrance:

The little window on the right is at the shower. 

A few more steps over on the porch is the hammock:

I haven't slept there yet, but I have slept here:

The red glow from the lamp shades has proven quite unflattering to my overall appearance. 

Left of the bed is inside seating:

You can spy the hammock outside the French doors!

Across from the seating is a wonderful piece. I'm sure this one isn't Ikea. ;)

Gorgeous! I wish the detail would show better. 

We went to the little grocery today, so we could use the kitchen!

The kitchen shelves and mosquito netting make me happy: 

As does the framed picture of rocks, and the bamboo around the bathroom door:

There is a library at the pool, which is saltwater. The man here refers to "freshwater" as "sweetwater". 

I'll venture out, and show those next time. The wifi has been down since morning. Will be interesting to find when "next time" is. Gotta love the islands! ;)

I feel quite at home. 

All love,

L.

Almost there

I am on a Fokker 50, flying not so high above the sea.

In less than a half hour, we'll be in Curaçao, then it's one more time through an airport...one more time boarding a plane, and on to Bonaire. 

We've been flying all day, and Adam's luggage didn't arrive to Aruba with mine. 

We see on InselAir's in-flight magazine that there is a "Bonaire Bravas" named Kip-Tukkie. It is smoked chicken served from a rusted out Jeep. They have a Facebook.  Look it up. 

Slippers and Self-Care

When I graduated from nursing school, my cousin Paula gave me a pair of slippers as my gift. She is a very accomplished nurse herself. At first I didn't fully understand the significance of this gift. But I certainly do now. She provided me the gift of self-care, downtime, relaxation. I traded them out for my flip-flops on this first really cool, rainy Sunday of the season, and I relaxed the heck out in them.  Putting them back on always makes me feel happy. I've been teased about them in the past to the point that I just adopted them into the name "Floral Elfin Slippers". I know they're not stylish, but I couldn't care less. They're special, meaningful, sentimental, and good for my well- being. 

After a decade and a half, they're getting pretty worn. But I'll wear these puppies out till they're bare. 

No more waiting

I never followed up on my mother's pancreatic cancer scare. 

All I can say is it was just that: a scare. 

For this I am more than grateful. 

I know I was more worried than she. 

She's tight with JC, and that sort of faith goes a long way in the anti-worrying department. 

The Waiting

I wake without good reason in mid afternoon after only about 3 hours sleep. I am fully awake and don't even feel the usual Bendadryl Hangover I should have this early into my sleep. I text everyone I think might be at the hospital with Mom without response. I answer a few work emails, can't get back to sleep, so I shower and call the hospital in my hometown. Mom transferred to my hospital only about 10 min ago. We have equipment to do a procedure not available back home. I get my body and face around, and head to my workplace, once again grateful for the short distance from my driveway to the parking lot. The timing is impeccable. I reach my ER entrance exactly as the ambulance transporting Mom does. She is smiling and making little jokes. Her laugh infectious as always. The heavy doses of narcotics help a little. 

We go to room 416, and things go well. They move more quickly than I'd expected. I'm proud of my colleagues as I quietly observe them. I really don't know how they meet all the demands placed on them and still provide such a caring touch. 

One of my favorite doctors is admitting her. He does an excellent history and exam, and makes sure we understand the plan. I'm proud of Mom for being an excellent historian of her case. It makes me feel reassured and confident that things will go well even when I'm downstairs being a nurse myself later in the evening. But right now I'm not a Nurse. In this moment I am a Daughter, and Dr. Giant Smiles is reviewing the results of Mom's CT scan with us. This mass at the head of her pancreas, he says, is obviously concerning. Does she have any family history of tumors, he wonders. Outwardly I am nodding and stoic. This Daughter's insides are screaming. We didn't know there was a mass. We are just finding out, though I don't bat an eye. He is finding out that my Mom's father died of pancreatic cancer. Very concerning, especially given that information, he adds. 

Yes, Dr. Big Smiles. Very concerning. 

After he walks out, I cry. Then I cut it out, and remind us both that nothing is close to definitive. I am just a surprised Daughter who happens to be a Nurse sometimes. This can be a harrowing position on occasion, the knowing too much. 

First we have to get her thin blood back to a safe level to perform the procedure. Then the procedure will tell the specialist more. Then more waiting for the biopsies. 

Now, on 3 hours sleep in the past 36, I am in the waiting part.

I am home from too many hours in a hospital I love too much, filled with people who need my love so much. 

Now I switch from Nurse back to Daughter. And wait and pray and let myself cry since there is no one to see it. The crying will lead to sleeping. And when I wake there will be more waiting. And more Daughtering. And yet more Nursing. Because we do what we can during all the waiting. 

How I fought...without knowing what I was fighting for

It was my second semester of college. I was raw. My grandmother, who had lived with me from age 4 had passed on my brother's birthday, during winter break, the day after Christmas.

I craved connection. I craved home.

I had met Sam my first semester of college. He was my friend. We had people in common. Most importantly, people from my "real life". 

My people were important to me. My people were me. 

And the fact that he was connected to folks from my small community meant *everything*. 

We connected over these similarities. 

I do that with people. 

I am a sucker for nostalgia. 

One night, he did several lines of cocaine at a neighbor's house. He assaulted me a bit after. 

I didn't want to see him after that. 

That was smart of me. 

Unfortunately, he still wanted to engage with me. Because of his violence toward me, I had been avoiding him, despite his calls. 

I was summoned by mutual friends to help out with him in a time of distress, not a week later. 

I don't know why I agreed. 

It was not smart of me. 

When I arrived at the house, I was pointed to the room he was in. I'm still not sure why I approached, much less entered. He had said that he would speak only to me. 

I wanted to fix everything. 

I should have alerted law enforcement. 

I should never have gone there. 

But I was there. 

And I stepped into that room. And that was where I was. So, I dealt with it. 

I dealt with the fact that he had a loaded gun. 

I dealt with the fact that he wanted to end me or end him. 

I just talked to him. 

I talked to him about his family, and our mutual friends. 

I talked about things I knew he valued. 

I spoke to him of the things I sought and valued in my future. 

And, in time, he agreed to seek help from someone he trusted just enough. 

And we contacted that person via phone. And I went back to my dorm life. 

I never had contact with him again. 

I wish I could say that someone in that house had called the police while I navigated all this. 

But no one did. 

Perhaps they were as green as I was back then. 

Or perhaps they didn't care?

I never took legal action...for any of it. The previous assault, or the more resonating gun-to-my-head interaction. 

I was a kid. 

We all were kids. 

It is interesting, and sad, and devastating.

And confusing. 

And still, to this day, I hope he's okay. 

Still. 

I'm a sucker. 

And I believe that I'm okay. 

I-69 to I-65 to I-40...

...Or some route like that. 

Recently a coworker asked if I'd ever been to Memphis. 

I have been. I took a road trip alone when I was young. 

My fiancé at the time thought it was ludicrous. I thought it was wholly necessary. 

(This could, in fact, be the entire premise on which our proposed nuptials failed. The guy did not get me. Not for a moment.)

I wore a bandana on my head, and long, comfortable, flowy skirts. 

I stopped through Nashville for some reason, and changed clothes in a parking garage. That was my entire virgin Nashville experience...changing outfits in a parking garage!

I listened to whatever music I wanted. I talked to the truckers with my headlights. 

Once I got to Memphis, I was disappointed by: Sun Studios, and Saint Jude's Children's Research Hospital. I didn't even go into Graceland. 

However, I did recommend all these stops to my coworker. She will plan tours ahead. I believe if I'd done that, I'd have gotten a different outcome. 

But I planned nothing for my venture. Which is the key point of this tale. 

The entire thing was fully spontaneous. 

Which is why the events I remember most vividly were the most random. 

Near Sun Studios was a diner. They had eggs and toast. A couple of old guys with motorcycles were there while I got my grub. These guys told me *they* could show me the real Memphis. 

Of course they could, why not??  I knew tons of grizzly old dudes that rode Harleys. Most of them were my relatives. 

So, I went for it. 

It was perfect. 

I got the Graceland "tour" from outside the fence, no money paid. 

I got an awesome ride. I got tons of tips about local restaurants and points of interest. 

They told me about the best of Beale Street; where to stop, where to pass by. 

Perhaps I could have been assaulted, or abducted, or worse?  

Perhaps...but I wasn't. 

I would never do that now. But then?  Then it was perfect. And perfectly fine. 

There was a purity then. One that will never be recreated. 

And that's okay, as well. 

But I'm glad, more than glad, that I did that route, that way, that one time. 

Bathroom Remodel

The week my BIL died, we had water damage to our downstairs bathroom.

Our basement flooded sometime after. 

Last year, a tree fell on our house. 

All of these events brought projects. 

However, the past year after the tree has felt like a nonstop project to me. Now we are onto upgrades and improvements, instead of recovery efforts. 

Today I helped the mister with our master bath again. We've already done painting and new mirrors/light fixtures. Today was floor day. 

He's going to have to find a man friend to install the toilet at the end of this. He gets incredibly impatient with my weak body and mind. ;)

Today was fun!

Wet saw. Serious business. 

Do work, guuurl!

Not too shabby so far.

:)

Sometimes I Agree to the Journey

...because I love to feel the Homecoming.

My husband taught me the art of traveling well. Not the act of moving from place to place; I'd done that on my own many times, in various modes...but the skill of mastering logistics- with the outcome of a more-appreciated venture- that I owe to him.
I pack lighter.
I tend toward local venues instead of chain places I'd feel more familiar in.
I walk around new ground and engage with the old man with the handlebar mustache.
I take photos of the wall in the restaurant.
Some things my husband will never break me of...Like unpacking all my stuff into drawers and onto hangers.
But I have new concepts even for that. I only unpack if the stay is for more than one night. ;)

Old hat

Don't Let Us Get Sick
(Warren Zevon)

Don't let us get sick
Don't let us get old
Don't let us get stupid, all right?
Just make us be brave
And make us play nice
And let us be together tonight

The sky was on fire
When I walked to the mill
To take up the slack in the line
I thought of my friends
And the troubles they've had
To keep me from thinking of mine

Don't let us get sick
Don't let us get old
Don't let us get stupid, all right?
Just make us be brave
And make us play nice
And let us be together tonight

The moon has a face
And it smiles on the lake
And causes the ripples in Time
I'm lucky to be here
With someone I like
Who maketh my spirit to shine

Survivor

I live every day as a survivor, not a victim. This is important. If you have no idea what I mean, that's a great big win for me.
I don't have much desire to be identified by my dark days.

Must-Haves

In celeb interviews, the subject is often asked what makeup must-haves they won't leave home without. I'm no celebrity, but last night I was running behind schedule and had to throw some items in my tiny purse to "make up" at work when I had a minute. It literally took 1.5 minutes. No one even knew I was gone. Turns out I'm not comfortable without: Cover Girl Simply Powder Foundation #505, Cover Girl Line Exact liquid eyeliner in brown #610, Revlon ColorStay lipgloss Eternal Blossom #535, and Almay intense i-color mascara in Black Flash #031.
I'm truly unsure if anyone could detect a difference from when I arrived to after I disappeared for a minute. But I felt better about conquering the world (and an ER full of Service Challenges).
I have a superstition about my lipstick at work. I'm convinced that if I have it on things will run smoothly, even if busy...but if I have naked lips everything will fall apart!
What are your makeup must haves? Do you have makeup superstitions?

The Library

I love the library! I like the smell, the feel of books in my hands, the eclectic and diverse population of consumers, EVERYthing!
The library makes me feel inspired and motivated. The atmosphere shivers and tingles with an electric excitement to GO, DO, BE while trying to maintain the calm and quiet, dignified exterior required of you within those walls. The library has secrets. It is not boring.
I've been a friend of the library from a very young age. I was the kid of a librarian, spending hours of childhood between the stacks during business hours and beyond- the times after close were the best, a whole library all to myself! And my mom was not just a librarian, she was a Reference Librarian in the days before Google...the times when an expert was needed to assist you in finding the right resources to get that paper done, when you could pick up the old landline and call the reference desk with a question and they would find the answer and recommend other books on the topic. Reference Fairies were better than Google, I submit.
The modern library has done well integrating today's technology and embracing it. My local library has developed an excellent app to help us reinvest in using her. It's easy to download ebooks, place a hold on a book right from your mobile phone and have it delivered to any branch you'd like, or renew your checkouts right from your iPad. It really is incredible.
And it makes me love the old gal, one of my longest pals, even more.

My town

Friday is errand day with A if I stay up after my work night instead of sleeping the day and evening away.
One recent Friday was tattoo removal session day. We got to wear giant goggles to protect us from the laser beams. I got to see A grimace in pain. Unpleasant.
Next, we enjoyed lunch downtown from the gourmet hotdog food truck- Bravas.

From there we walked past the Courthouse and down to the tobacconist so A could enjoy a fine cigar while we waited for the repairs to be completed on our Jeep. (I have stuck with the e-cig and am doing well.) It's an interesting spot to sit a while and see the downtown clientele.

Fort Wayne really is a great city. You just have to work a little to find the sorts of activities you want to tap into.

All love,
Bean

Bean's Breakfast Pies

I made bfast muffins this morning after work.

There was even a special runty one, made differently than the rest.

I am really enjoying this learning process. It's a thinking process as well...how I consider food. Formerly I found food, and the time requirement needed to eat well, inconvenient. More recently I began appreciating it a bit too much. Balance is everything.
All love,
Bean

The Early Empty-Nester

I am an empty-nester at age 35.  I did not intend to be. My daughter lived with me from the age of 5 until a few weeks ago at almost-17.
With D gone from my dailies, I do unlikely activities to create a future of my own.
I've been using hemp lotion.
I made pen pals with my niece.
I'm learning how to wear a bandana in my hair, different ways...and not wash it so many days.
I switched to Irish Oatmeal, and learned how to do it in the slow cooker overnight.
I baked 2 batches of experimental cookies tonight.
Bought Almond milk....
Made a grilled cheddar and pear sammich for dinner...
Been on the lookout for a new sweet babydog-companion for Sadie the WonderDog.
Am mixing Yoga practice into my calendar.
"I think of my friends and the troubles they've had to keep me from thinking of mine"...
I hope these explorations even me out...
I'm taking what seems in this moment like a negative, and trying to turn it into a positive.
It seems positive to start doing things I have been wanting to do.  And I have one less excuse than I did before. 

All love,
Bean