Not all fun and games ...

Three quarters of the way through my work day today, and after the toilets backed up and the A/C was barely adequate, I slipped in some mysterious water. It looked pretty much like on cartoons, where the feet fly out to the side and the body crashes to the ground.

In my case, I slipped in the water, my feet flew out to the side, to the left to be specific, and my glasses went flying, breaking into two pieces. The glamorous young working women in treacherously high-heeled pumps in the accounting firm did not see this spectacle, thank God. There I was busting my ass ... wearing oh-so-fashion-forward Crocs. And a gray-green Old Navy t-shirt. Not glamorous by any means, even if they were to envy my free and creative life. They looked better.

So I fly into the air, once my feet left the floor. And seconds later I crash onto my right hip onto the Saltillo tile floor. It is Saltillo tile laid in a brich patter, in case you're wondering. I'm happy to report that my hip did not crack or break, so I'm taking this as a good sign that my bone density is OK.

Now that I'm home and have had a glass of wine, strange aches and pains are beginning to creep in. My left ankle hurts, as well as various other places, including my left hip, which makes no sense. I'm wearing my sunglasses, so that I can see. You know, because my regular glasses broke into two pieces. I have been jarred, I tell you.

Just wanted y'all to know that this painted groove of mine is not near as glamorous as you might imagine. No complaints ... I'm just saying.

Thursday was my drop-dead date to deliver some cabinet doors I was painting for my friend Wendy. She started out as my client at least eight years ago, but we soon realized that we had to be friends. We had too many issues in common, apparently. Wendy and her husband own a nursing home in Seguin. Let me rephrase that. It is Nesbit Living & Recovery Center.

The reason I'm being asked to paint stuff for her nursing home is because Nesbit LRC is in the midst of a huge renovation that I must say has actually impressed me. And I'm a tough customer because I've had an aversion to nursing homes going waaaay back. Am I alone in this? By this point I'm sure you're wondering where is she going with this rambling blog (or perhaps you're used to it). On Thursday I decided it would be smart to deliver the doors, have them installed on the entertainment cabinet, and then put the final antiquing stain on them while they were hanging. Much easier for me, and much less likely that I would screw them up in transit.

Sounds like a pretty boring story, huh? Well, actually no. Wendy and I decided to go to lunch first. This required me to dress presentably for the first time in weeks, so I wore my trusty uniform CAbi skirt in a jungle print. For my top I wore a faded, brown Old Navy t-shirt, thinking it wouldn't be any big deal if I got stain on it. So I'm walking down the hallway to the Recreation Room where my cabinet was. I zipped by a poor older resident once or twice, walking fast and erratic like I alwasy do. All the while this poor little lady (or so I would assume, not knowing) is oonching herself down the hallway in her wheel chair because, heck, she doesn't have anything better to do. And I SWEAR TO YOU she mumbled under her breath that my skirt was TOO SHORT!

Except you know how older women never mumbled anything. You can always hear it just fine. I have to admit, it is too short. I mean really, I am almost 44. My grandmother would have said the same thing. It was hilarious. And I smiled. It made me think of my Mama.

Ok, as if that's not enough to have made my day, that's only the first thing. I started staining and antiquing and this precious woman came in for what I learned were scheduled domino games. She watched me for a long time and then walked over to me. "This is your calling," she said, as a statement of fact. Wow! I immediately recognized her as a messenger. "Yes, ma'am," I said. "It is. And it doesn't even feel like work." She just smiled, knowingly, and went to find her seat.

Another lady was sitting at a domino table, just waiting for some other players to come join her. She told me she was a pretty fierce player. I asked her if she takes all their money. She said "oh they don't let me have any money." I thought that was too bad. She would probably be able to really supplement her Social Security income if they'd let her gamble every now and again.

So I kept on and the games got going. The entire room filled up. Two ladies, one of which was a little combative, got a little testy, and was told she'd have to leave. It reminded me of someone who got kicked out of a bar one time in Mexico. I wondered if I'll get kicked out of the domino games when I'm an old lady.

All the while, I was pondering that maybe getting old and going to the nursing home is only the worst thing that can happen to you if that's what you think is the worst thing that can happen to you. Like every other aspect of life, it's all how you look at it. I got to thinking about my grandmother, who was a social butterfly and wasn't ever overjoyed to be a housewife way out on a farm in the country. We thought she lived in paradise and led the perfect life, but I think she found it unglamorous and lonely. She loved to go to town, shop, and go with her friend Bonnie for a "cup of coffee and piece of pie." I think she might have liked the nursing home if she had lived long enough to go there.

Well if that wasn't enough, then a group of kids from Vacation Bible School at Faith Lutheran Church came in to sing some songs about God. I was thinking: "what more can happen to make this a wonderful day?" And I had been hoping to sneak in, do my thing, and get out of there as fast as possible. Ha!

Back to what Wendy and her husband David are doing at Nesbit LRC. This is one of the room numbers. Wendy has really gone above and beyond to make it homey and beautiful, transforming what had been institutional and sterile in 1990s pinks and mauves. If a nursing home can look more like a resort, this one is well on its way, with warm, earthy colors and beautiful artwork. All I'm saying is if I have to go one day, just take me there. But I may just have to sneak in some money for the domino and card games...

I'd like to thank God, and Betsy, and Ryan, and my guts

...


Remember the ugly duckling that was missing a porch or any sort of proper entryway?? Of course you do ... because I'm forever talking or blogging about my favorite place on earth all the time. My husband says I can work Marathon into any conversation. I would be offended if he wasn't right.


Anyway, the picture above is the before picture, on a good day when it was snowing. And the pictures below are the after. I never thought I'd ever see the day when the outside of the house looked as good as the inside.


This is the after. Well, sort of. We're still working on it. New roof. New windows. New paint. I cannot express the feeling of accomplishment.

See the one and only decorative architectural element on this house? The little triangle? Well, I spent all day Sunday painting all that. Yikes. I also forgot sunscreen for some odd reason so I'm looking a little tan and crusty. My hair is getting redder by the minute.


Did you notice the interesting cedar porch? ... I'm not even going to start bragging on my husband again. It's getting old. He doesn't want people to start hating on him once they understand his brilliance and perfectness. OK, yeah, he's still a man and annoying and I don't want him getting the "big-head."

Can you believe this front door mat? I bought it at Tuesday Morning for $9, not realizing it would be the most perfect, matching doormat ever. The blue is perfect. The yellow/gold blends as well. We originally had grand visions of building a new front porch, with flagstone. And then we got realistic and decided to keep the regular, old step. It gets you in the house. And it was free. I love the front door.

OK, let's all flash forward and imagine my Academy Award winning moment: "I would like to thank first, my husband, Ryan, for insisting on the main body-of-the-house-color, SW Crater Gray, when I was waffling toward some safe earthtone. Thank you hunky man in Castroville who told me the name of the paint of his house when Ryan made me get out and go hold my paint fan up to the house...


"And thank you, world-famous Abbey Branch, for suggesting an interesting blue for the doors and windows as a Southwesty homage. Once we got new windows we couldn't paint them blue. The color is Sherwin Williams Oceanside. It's awesome, even though there's not an ocean anywhere near here. Good thing because I'm not a fan of oceans. I'm a mountain girl.


Before the music starts playing to scoot me off the stage, I'd like to thank myself for having the balls to paint the trim Sherwin Williams Brassy. It's avocado-ish, and limey, and gorgeous. Somehow it's perfect. Thank you, my husband, for not being a metrosexual freak and second-guessing me. Thank you, Mom, for not voicing your doubts, and being patient until it all came together.


In the words of Joe Danner in 1983, it's "fannnnnntastic!!!"