My latest craft project with the cricut explore and oracal 651 vinyl.

Mornings are such a rush for me and usually I run the kids to school in my sweats with my hair tied up in a rubber band, no make up. This day was different because my beautiful Costa Rican friend who is tall , with mocha colored skin , and looks way younger than her years, had invited me for coffee at 9. I wanted to keep up , at least a little.

I rushed the boys off to school, came back to the house ,put on some decent looking clothes , foundation, blush , lipstick and grabbing a mascara to put on in the car as my time was screaming away from me and I don’t like to be late. I might add , not whilst driving but maybe at a red light ( oops, sorry person behind me honking). I’ve never been great at applying make up , just the basics. I’ll leave the contouring to the teenagers as I wipe lipstick off my teeth.

Well, I get halfway there and I reach out for my mascara. Not on the seat next to me , not on the car floor , not in my purse , I even pulled over to look for it. I glance into the rear view mirror and all I see are these little piggy eyes staring back at me. My eyes are a grey blue and one of my only decent features in a face full of freckles and crooked teeth. I felt the hair in the back of my neck stand up.

What to do? I’m already running late and I can’t run into a drugstore and the fact that I have 4 new mascaras in my bathroom purchased last week gnawing at my decision.

I’m not kidding when I looked around for alternatives ( ladies use lipstick as blush on occasion and other alternates) but all I had was a sharpie marker. Luckily I talked myself down from that one.

I’m not sure that a male reader who doesn’t use cosmetics can relate but it’s like having a five o’clock shadow going to an important interview.

I once saw a photo of a panda without the circles around its eyes likening that to a lass without mascara ! That’s exactly what I felt , bare.

Nothing for it but to pop on the sunglasses and feign a headache thus hiding the small , and getting smaller the more I stared and worried about them , eyes.

I arrived at her door and as she greeted me I saw that SHE HAD NO MAKE UP ON!

Phew. Glasses off , coffee in hand and then inwardly chastising myself for being so vain and worried. I told her and we laughed. She’s a friend not a critic. I should have known that. I did know that. I do know that.

Needless to say ,there is a small make up kit in the glovebox in the car for such future events.

I was in a big box craft store filling my cart with shiny vinyl to create orders to sell. My youngest was with me , she’s 5.

As I was ogling the sparkly colors I got chatting to a lady next to me about making t shirts. She is the leader of a large Girl Scout troop and it is cookie selling season soon. She went on to tell me that she will need to have someone create t shirts for her girls and was asking my advice about shirts and the colors that would look good together.

Just as I was about to give her my details and offer my services,  I hear “ momma I have to poop “ .There is no second chance with this little one so I frantically searched for a way to quickly give my business details ….no pen , phone battery was too low , child needing the potty , ah man.

I looked for her after our bathroom break but alas, she was gone.

That night I sat down and made myself a few hundred business cards and have scattered them throughout all of my purses , cars etc.

Be prepared , indeed.

Give me a box of those thin mints.

Last week I was walking from my car through the campus , where I work , at a large university hospital . It was early in the morning and I passed many student doctors and nurses chattering and excited heading to class , treading where thousands of medical residents, surgeons and faculty had before them over the last 100 years.

They were bright and chippy , obviously thrilled with their choice of career, and seemingly very happy to be starting another new day. White pressed lab coats and shiny stethoscopes around their necks.

It started me thinking about how I was at the other end of my career. Now working only one shift per week and happy to be near retirement at the grand age of 47. I’ve done my time , worked all of the shift patterns, missed holidays with my family , trudged through rain and snow to get to work and crossed the world to work in the USA.

I started my nursing career at a fresh 19 years old in Scotland , after choosing not to attend university, and was apparently as green as it got.

My first shift on the ward the sister told me to give my geriatric patient a suppository. I looked at her, in my highly starched white dress and cap , as if she was speaking a foreign language as she thrust a foil tray with a glove, some lube and a pellet at me. I managed to squeak out “which finger do I use “ to which she replied “ the longest one”.
The swish of the curtains closed behind me and suddenly I was a bonafide nurse.

On another occasion , just a few week later , an elderly lady had fallen and gashed her leg deeply. The sister had the student nurses gather around the bed to watch her clean the wound and bandage it. I was at the foot of the bed when suddenly I saw stars before my eyes and I was losing my hearing , near to fainting.
I gasped “ Sister , I can’t see “to which she replied “come closer then “ as I fell backwards onto the floor.

Despite my obvious wrong choice of career, I continued and managed to get over my fear of deep wounds and poop. Three years later and I was an RGN.

It was a huge change from Scotland to California. The differences in drug names and names of body parts had me blushing right from my first shift ,as well as being expected to come to work in what seemed to be pajamas . I was to give an injection to a patient and she asked me if I was going to give her it “in her fanny” ! I was shocked as that isn’t the name for the derrière in the UK , it’s a naughty word there.

I’ve had some very sad moments during my 28 years , but also a terrific amount of hilarity and nonsense both with my patients and colleagues. Giggling uncontrollably through report, doctors rounds and on break. It sounds bad when the patients around us were sick, but it helped to relieve the daily stress and was a coping mechanism. It was never directly in front of a patient.

I have sat with medical residents on the night shift who were crying because they were so tired , given them words of encouragement and a cup of tea, covered them with a blanket and answered their pages for them. It was a team effort and we certainly were not their hand maidens ,as some of the older doctors treated us.

The psychiatric and confused patients were always an experience. One came into the ER after assaulting a mannequin in a department store yelling  “I need a doctor , even Dr Pepper will do” , another would come in frequently with his tin foil helmet on to stop the voices. I’ve been instructed to put a pillowcase over a patients’ head to move him to another department as he was paranoid and believed there was a ‘hit’ out on him. I’ve looked for chickens under beds in geriatric wards and sang songs with stroke patients that can’t get out a single word but can miraculously sing a whole song.

It has been a privilege to be a nurse, but I’m winding down now, happy to pass the syringe on to the enthusiastic younger nurses.

May they always choose their longest finger and keep a sense of humor.

 

Happy New Year!

My blog writing dipped severely last year as I was rather busy with the littles, remodelling our little farmhouse and I went back to work to help finance the afore mentioned. I also chose the busiest year I’ve had to start a small business with my crafting skills. Do I take on too much for myself? Probably.

So , my small business is called Arlycrafts and I can be found on Facebook , not Snapchat or Instagram, nor on Twitter , because apparently at 47 years old, I’m too old to learn new tricks. Swiping up and down , adding a dogs tongue coming out of my mouth and only using 144 characters to say what I have to is beyond my capabilities. I like photo journaling and describing what I see or feel. A sticker or OMG just doesn’t do it for me.

Back to my small business. I started making hand made wooden signs and embroidered items. Then a Cricut Explore Air came into my life. Game changer. This little sucker can cut paper or vinyl from a design I make on my iPhone then send via Bluetooth to it!! Whaaaat? I still don’t understand how electricity works !!

I’ve been making decals, custom tee shirts and signs for a few months and really enjoying it. My only issue is that I’m a perfectionist and spend way too many hours perfecting the designs and cutting them out. At the prices I charge I’m sure to be making a loss. But…is that really the worst problem to have ? It does bring more than a little anxiety for me , but also a degree of pleasure and fulfilment. I believe it balances itself.

I’m a nomadic crafter. Let me explain. I have a short attention span and get bored easily ,so am always looking for new ideas and crafts. I get really involved in tee shirt production but the following week I’m making candles, then the next week I’m onto glitter covered tumblers. The amount of craft supplies I have is staggering. I am thankful for Amazon prime and Hobby Lobby coupons.

This week I’m back to the glitter tumblers that leave sparkles wherever I go. Even the dog was glistening yesterday and I brushed some off the counter she was standing under, hoping for a titbit. That may have her scratching for a few days, sorry pup.

I believe my therapy is my crafting. Rather that than medication , chemicals or electric shock therapy ( I have witnessed this and it does work , but that’s another long story !)

Call me crazy one more time, and I’ll cover you in mod podge and bedazzle you!!