My Nurse Is A Poet

Adrienne had been coming since April. Then, in August, her dawg wrapped its leash around her legs and pulled her over backwards. Her injuries put her in the hospital; she thought she mught come back in November.

Andrea took over until one day Debbie from Vancouver showed up. She had no info about Andrea.

The next week Dawn came. She said Andrea had had an accident and she, Dawn, was just following orders. No one ever told me anything. My texts to both Adrienne & Andrea went unanswered.

Then came Jessica. She was different; she's an artist, a writer, a poet, a performance artist and has been working with the dying for ten years? (I need to ask). She's lived in Grants, New Mexico, got her nursing degree in Mississippi, and is part Taos Puebloan and part Hispanic. She has a grand-daughter.

After taking my vitals, she read me her poems. She just got a YT channel so there'll be more soon.

The Brink

She's reading from Cholla Needles 97, a poetry journal published (this year) in Joshua Tree, California. She's also included in this anthology published by The Museum of New Mexico Press.

We Have It To Ourselves Again

Brother-in-law takes tours around the globe fulfilling - as he says - his duty as a privileged senior; it's what he's supposed to do. Back from Budapest via New Zealand, he stayed with a friend in L.A. for awhile then came to our place. A list of chores kept him occupied for a few days but as time went on his things began appearing in odd places: his toothbrush and water glass took up residence behind the toaster next to the kitchen sink; an array of powders - whey & protein plus oatmeal and Smooth Move - appeared atop the kitchen cupboards where they offended the sensibilities of the ceramic wine bottles & German beer steins. A week earlier I'd begun wondering when he was gonna leave.

The man has a golden heart and is generous. He gifted us with both the 2008 and 2015 Honda FITS...new. But this is a 900 sq ft bungalow. The 3rd bedroom, Michelle's former studio is the "storage locker." I snore so "the office," the smaller bedroom, hardly more than a walk-in closet, is now my lair. The Smirket Room, where Steve sleeps, is our "maker's space." 

I put the bed on craigslist. We bought him a take-down camp cot that suffices.

Even gold-hearted & generous still casts an inhibitory pall on my proclivity for clothes-lessness. I did my best, but even eine Churminz best ist evidently not very güt as he interpreted my attempt at tact as: GET THE EF OUT! 

Bless his heart, he went off to stay with a high-school buddy in god-for-saken Portales (east New Mexico), a mere hop annuh skip from Muleshoe, Texas. (People go for the notoriety of saying they've been.)

A former girlfriend sometimes lets him stay in her parent's home in Phoenix. They're in assisted-living and she's hiking in Patagonia and other relatives use it too so he had to find somewhere else until he could get the "all clear." Even though he can afford lengthy excursions anywhere on the globe, he's thrifty and prefers couch surfing to an Airbnb. He has an apartment in Denver, but it's cold up there. 

SNOW!!!

 

The Front

The Back

Wednesday's Gifts

 From Navajo Lake

She told of heating them in an oven and holding them against one's heart. "It's grounding," she said, "and helps when you're dissociating." When I held it to my heart I felt the kindness of the gift. The round one is for Kristen.

my foot

Thrasher(s) vs Roadrunners

There's description on the video.

Kristafas - On instagram

Today was amazing! I think it was the best day I've had since I got here in October of 2023. The glucosamine/chondroitin - turmeric has, overnight, turned me into a whole diff person.

I was at the park before 11:00 a.m. (it's been rare that I get out of bed b4 10 a.m.) and though I used my walker to rest every 75 feet or so, I spent an hour and a half strolling about.

My encounters included a couple whose 1962 Mustang convertible caught my attention. The paint was perfect as was the interior. I asked who redid them. She said it was their wedding gift and it was all original. And they've been driving it. It's garaged, but I don't know how they kept those seats looking new.

For some reason, I was compelled to ask Krista how far she'd come. 11 miles she said, looking at her watch; she was going for 15. I was impressed & took her picture intending to send it to her somehow. She's on Instagram as Kristafas and is truly an amazing woman! Now I just have to figure out how to work Instagram to get the picture to her.

Fall

The view out the front is of the carport, a small portion of the street and an arbor vitae, an evergreen shrub. Not very exciting.

The view out the back offers a little more. It is, after all, an urban environ. You don't get much.

The view as you pass by...

Remnants of the last bouquet from Trader Joe's -- an urban benefit: cut flowers; and cheap too.

At the bottom are boxes that rode atop Phoebe. Someday I'll empty them.

Pausing, leaves from the elm and two cottonwoods. They're a nuisance to the neighbors to the west; he suffers. In the summer it's 10 degrees cooler back here.

I really like the grasses. Michelle said there are seven or eight different kinds. We mow in the spring and then just leave it. It's a little bit of "the wild."

Leaning against the wall is a memento from my days in the Yukon with Jozien. It was buried under years of woods detritus. I think it's from a late 30s or early 40s truck.

Stuart, the elm

The large mesquite tree in front of the neighbors house is like a thermometer of the seasons. Its changes signal their passing.