First Aid For Artists

If you wander around my house you will see murals, some high, some low.  The walls have different styles of textures, some made with trowels, some with whisk brooms, some with screw drivers and plastic bags. The backsplash behind my gas range is an original of much loved aspens. I create mandalas, plaster masks and I work with clay, pastels and watercolors.

My husband often warns visitors not to stand still too long or I will paint them; not a portrait but literally paint them.

Doing art and being an artist seem like two completely different things so I was surprised by an event on Tuesday afternoon, one of my granddaughters came to hang out with me.  She was sharing the excitement of the first couple of days of school.

"Mom says I don't have to have a Dtap shot!" she excitedly announced, as she reached down for a little blue plastic Fisher-Price doctor's kit the girls keep on one of the shelves of the coffee table.

"But, I think you should have one!" she says to me.

She opens the little plastic box that has a red cross painted on the top. She opens it and pulls out a yellow plastic otoscope (to look into ears). She checks my ears. "Yup," she says, "Just as I thought."

In true physician fashion, she doesn't tell me what she thought!

She then pulls out the the plunger/barrel part of a red plastic syringe. "Sorry, we're going to have to give you your Dtap, all 21 doses of it!"

Reaching back into the blue box, she pulls out a small woven bag filled with crayons! She reaches in for the green, installs it where the needle would go and gives me a little shot! She removes the green crayon, returns it to the bag and pulls out an orange crayon for my next dose.

"Lainy," I ask, "Why are there crayons in the doctor's kit?"

"It's a first aid kit, Nana, and you are an artist! Artists needs crayons in their first aid kit!" She smiled that big smile as she rolled her eyes, "Derrrr! Everyone knows that!"

So, I guess it's official. I am an artist because my first aid kit has crayons in it...24 crayons....because I am just that good!

Cup Cakes, Yum

Woke up this morning to uber dark house. Curtains pulled in Family Room and three lumps on floor, couch and recliner. Two granddaughters and a niece still deep in dream land.

Tip-toed past them to start a pot of coffee.

Wow!  Cup Cakes! Big ones, medium ones and an insane amount of little ones! Apparently a version of Cupcake Wars was held in the kitchen last night. The counters are covered cupcakes with blue frosting and sprinkles.

They won't miss one, I think to myself! I set the coffee brewing, swoop up one of the big blue cupcakes! Nibbling, I sneak back to my room where the dogs, Rex, Kona and Thor are whining to get out.  (They love trampling company out of a sound sleep).

Yum. I'm contemplating another cup cake when the coffee has completed its perk.

Back in my room, I wash my hands and face. I pick up the comb to try to tame bed-head. As I look up at my reflection in the mirror, I get an clue of what the girls might be dreaming of.

I'm wondering about it too.

How long will it take for the blue to wear off my lips!

p.s.  lip gloss + blue lips = shiny scary!

The Freedom To Speak Your Mind

A short 4 years ago, my friend commented about my birthday. Actually, it was my next birthday she was talking about.

"Just think! You are going to be 60 next year!"

Bam! Talk about slamming into a brick wall! Me? Sixty? Never! How could it be?

I loved turning 40. The 40's were incredibly freeing in so many ways.

Fifties came and I celebrated the whole decade! After all, as Oprah says, "50 is the new 40!"

It honestly never occurred to me that 60 came after the 50's.  Couldn't I just be Fifty-ten,  then 50-11? You have to admit,  50-12 has a certain ring to it!

The last six months of my 59th year made me feel like I was on combat mission, belly on the ground, soldier crawling towards enemy lines. Pausing to dig a fox hole now and then, trying to stop time, but that big 60 kept pulling me.

What an incredible waste of 6 months! Sixties are better than the 40's and the 50's (except for the knee pain which was probably caused by creeping around on my elbows and belly for half a year).

There are so many glorious benefits to being 60-ish.

My favorite benefit of all is the freedom to speak my mind!  Not that I make comments like, "That is the most ignorant thing I've ever heard!" or "You're a special kind of stupid, aren't you?"

I do have filters, but having retired, I don't have to agree with an abusive boss! I don't have to write letters and memos that make her look kind or thoughtful. I don't have to agree with everyone sitting around the table at dinner. My heart isn't crushed if someone walks away from me when I've spoken my truth.

The next favorite benefit is that I can make a stand! If I stand alone, that's okay because I am standing up for what I believe. I can live in my own integrity!

Another favorite perk is rising out of bed at 4 a.m. to read or write or simply sip a cup of green tea and ginger.  The stripping out of my clothes and jumping back into bed around 9 or 10. Other mornings I head to the shower, brush my teeth and get out my softest, most comfy pajamas and spend the day in them.  If someone knocks at the door, I greet them completely guilt free. No shame! They can judge me all they want. I know that deep down in their souls, they wish they were in their jammies, too!

Let's see!  (tapping my make-up free chin while in deep contemplation) There are so many special boons, it is hard to choose the next favorites.

There is the make-up thing. I can get around with absolutely no make-up, if I choose. There is a natural aliveness about aging skin, the lines around the eyes that shout, "I have laughed and I have lived!"   Without foundation one can see the scar on my left temple from the spoon that stuck in my head when my brother shot sweet peas at me when we were kids. (I can write really long, run-on sentences like the previous one and people just accept it " 'cuz, bless her heart, she's old!")  Without makup I can't disguise the bump in my not-so-perfect nose. I am really proud of it; reminds me of playing street football with the boys (I was always first picked for teams. Yes, I was that good!)

Benefit Boon Blessing of being in my sixties; I can have sex as much as I want without the fear of pregnancy! (Beat that all you 30-somethings in your 5 inch spiked heels!) I can have sex where ever I want because if caught I can blame it on dementia!

Let's not forget clothing!  In your 60's you can wear whatever you want! I can wear white to weddings because I are not going to upstage the bride. I can wear skirts to work in the garden and jeans to church. I can dress to the nines to go to the drive-thru at In and Out! I can sport torn jeans and my Doobie Brothers sweatshirt to Outback.

Being in your sixties and a little bit silly appeals to all your nieces and nephews. Your nieces think you're cute and your nephews will refill your gin and tonic without any prompts!  They put extra green olives and gin in them too!

If the sixties are this good, what secrets and whimsical treats must the 70's be hiding? Seven more years and I get to unwrap that package. I won't be holding my breath though, because there are so many delicious discoveries about being in my sixties still to be made.