La VIe Boheme

 Well, hello. 

It has been quite a while, and quite a year here at Coast of Illinois. Biggest news being that I have retired, after 42 years of nursing. Those thoughts are for another time, however. 

It is a new time. And to borrow from a certain well known pop icon - I am in my Vie Boheme era. 

Or trying to get there…

About six months before my final day as a productive member of society, I started a Pinterest board to help me plan for this new life. I saved about one hundred posts about “How to manage your retirement”, “Living the ‘slow’ lifestyle” and the ever popular “You’re not dead yet, do these 47 things to reset your life”. 

I read none of them. 

My husband was also retiring, for his second time, and I knew from that first attempt, that there is absolutely a transitional period. It manifests itself as a total inability to do anything but sit on the couch watching mindless television and lamenting the fact that you have accomplished nothing but probably getting dressed.

I had already made up my mind what my new, artistic life would look like:

I would rise as the sun gently filtered onto my face, waking me gently where I would lie back and take in the peaceful quiet of the house before climbing out of bed, brushing my teeth, washing my face. Twenty minutes of mindful and focused stretching yoga would pass as the fog of night clears from my eager, active brain.  

After this, I would brew a perfect cup of coffee, take my book and a blanket, should it be nippy out of doors, and sit on my beautifully landscaped patio where I would again sit back and listen to the gentle birdsong accompanied by the lush rustling of leaves and read for thirty minutes. 

The rest of my day would be filled with painting and writing, a healthy lunch, an invigorating workout, a chat with a friend and then a dinner of such Michelin star quality that we would both feel slightly faint. 

This is what my new life actually looks like:

I wake to a pitch black room, not because the sun has kissed me but because the road crew who is building a new drainage system and restructuring our road has started backing ALL of their equipment down the newly spread gravel at such a speed that the dust cloud has blocked out even the sun’s most cancer causing UV rays and the constant, uncoordinated beeping of each vehicle has come together to form one gigantic, off key symphony. 

I try to lie back and enjoy the cool stillness but, if I have been lucky and slept the entire night through, I need to race to the bathroom. 

I brush my teeth and wash my face. 

Slightly more awake, I stumble into the kitchen, it’s now 7:30 and I really just want a cup of coffee. Stretching can wait. I immediately flip on the television for the TODAY show as my coffee brews and I simultaneously check my news feed to catch up on what  WhoWhatWear says the Newest Fashion IT Gurls would never be caught dead in. 

Very important information for me, a 65 year old woman whose biggest plan for the week is to hit Target AND the grocery store. 

I want to go outside and read, I love how good it makes me feel first thing in the morning. It was a habit I started when I was working and giving myself even fifteen minutes started the day off beautifully. 

But, coming up after the break, the TODAY show is giving their TOP 10 Beauty picks. And lord knows I could use five or six of them. I am pretty sure. 

My husband is now up and making his healthy breakfast while I attempt to drink my mango smoothie without getting hit in the nose by the inevitable iceberg of frozen fruit. After this he is heading down to do a Peloton bike ride, which he will text and tell me about if it is particularly interesting and remind me later that he has lowered the bike seat in preparation for what we both know is hell freezing over before I cut into my day to ride. 

The rest of my day is full of random chores, scrolling and games on my phone, a minimum of two hours of really bad television before starting dinner which is then followed by more bad television and one last game review.  

Gotta get those free diamonds…

It has taken me FOUR months to get to this point, where I can honestly look at my current routine and say THIS ISN’T WORKING! 

So, after a pep talk from two very good friends this weekend, a talk I can only assume Rob put them up to with promises of the really good rum, I dug out my daily planner and set up some goals. I also read through those 78 posts on Pinterest about resetting your life in retirement and barely slept last night for writing and rewriting this post in my head. I won’t even start on the watercolor tutorial I watched at 0230.

I should be exhausted right now, given I honestly only got about three hours of solid sleep, but the truth is, I feel - renewed. 

I did get up to the gentle sunlight in a peaceful and quiet house. The road crew must have had a late start. 

I wandered into the kitchen to find a chickadee on the patio wall singing his heart out while I made my coffee. My Weight Watchers ap complimented me on my choice of grapefruit and only eating TWO slices of crispy bacon for breakfast.

Yes, I did check out the fashion news feed, which may or may not have resulted in a spontaneous Amazon purchase and I did watch my friends at the TODAY show while checking on my favorite games.

BUT, after that I sweatsuited up and did that NASA space ride on the bike that Rob was so excited about as well as a good post ride stretch. I had a healthy lunch while outside on the patio as I read two short stories by Summerset Maugham. 

I have a delicious dinner planned with my sister and I am here, at my desk, notebook open and the first post in a very long time is now complete. 

This is the 20 minute NASA ride with the astronaut Jessica Meyer and Robin Arzon. Yes, those are my sadly inadequate numbers at the bottom

of the screen. But in my defense, I hate to sweat. 

I hope you have enjoyed this little introduction to my retirement and I hope you return often to check in on how things are going. 

I can’t promise daily updates right now, but I promise, the ones that do make it up will make you wonder about…my sanity…in a good way…

FRESH

is there anything more crisp and fresh than a snowy January day

Welcome to 2025. 

A new year and new possibilities.

I hate to even think about that…

But, the possibility is always there. 

I love January. 

Even in St Louis where - as an example - I have been staying at my brother’s place in the city in order to make it to my day job in the morning. A typical St Louis snowstorm has been raging for almost 24 hours now. 

Freezing rain gave way to sleet at 2am waking me from my transplanted sleep. Snow made it’s apperance eventually, sharing the airspace with Sleet, who refuses to give up its spot. 

This is supposed to continue until the wee hours of the next day. 

But even with the weather, and the transplantation and the freezing walk I’ll be taking tomorrow, I still love January. 

The holidays are over, there is really nothing on the calendar, once our daughter’s birthday is celebrated. Every morning feels fresh with possibility. 

Which is why my word for 2025 is FRESH. 

Such a fun word. 

Fresh as a daisy

Freshen up

Fresh breath

Fresh eyes

Fresh produce

For me the word reminds me that every opportunity is out there, waiting to be discovered, newly experienced.

Don’t get Fresh…

Or, possibly, lurking to surprise…

I had a bit of trouble finding this word. Last year I chose MAGIC. And 2024 was nothing but Magic. 

Our dream of visiting Havana, Cuba was realized. 

We fell in love with Basque country and were invited to visit a gastronomic society dinner club on a whim. 

We welcomed a new granddaughter. 

And in between those big things there were so many more magical moments. 

I want this year to be one of newness. I want to be ready for any possibility. 

I want to start 

FRESH

Happy New Year to everyone along the Coast of Illinois and beyond. 

My wish for you is a wonderfully Fresh day, each and every one. 

an impromptu snowy day party

An RN Looks At Forty ... years of service(with apologies and thanks to Jimmy Buffett)

Mother Mother Florence

Never really heard your call

Yet I have walked upon your halls,

Since I was 23 years old

Have I seen it all?

Never say I've seen it all….

capping 

Carried charts for the doctors

Back when people smoked at the desk

Now Epic login takes us to orders

And messages saying no beds in sight

while

In your Kardex you hold the careplans and drug cards from us chumps

It’s now on-line

It’s all on-line…

graduation

Yes, I am an RN

Forty years this year

I’ve been on-call for a third of my life

Only 348 scheduled shifts to go 

Wearing blue scrubs not whites

And no longer a cap

Just annoying masks

Those annoying masks

birthday in the OR -why Sesame Street??

I’ve worked med-surg and OR

DId the ED thing for a while

I’ve recovered so many

I say take a deep breath in my sleep

And GO AHEAD AND PEE

Please, just go pee…

New Years Eve in the ED - sparkling grape juice and urine strainer party hats

IV drips were counted by sight

Pumps replaced dial-a-flow now they alarm

All through the night

Air in Line

Battery low

pandemic, seriously 

Worked every shift

Eight hours, tens, twelves

Breaks rarely taken

Eating between call bells

Buffets left out for who knows how long

But never got sick

Never got sick

don't wear the cap any longer, except once a year to make the newer nurses feel grateful

Mother Mother Florence

I will admit there are days

When my occupational choice should have been 

Patricia Stevens Business School for Girls

But I have learned so much

About people, live and myself

I wouldn’t change a thing

Would not change a thing. 

I honestly never thought I would be a nurse, only to become one so I would have 'something to fall back on' as my Mom use to advise. That being said, I would not be the person I am today, if I hadn't done so. I have seen the best and the worst of people. I have helped welcome babies into the world and fought to keep people in this world and held hands as they have departed it. Along the way, I have worked with some of the most amazing people you could ever hope to care for you, some older and more experienced, some younger and more experienced some new to the profession who actually looked to me for guidance. And I have learned something from each and every one. 

My advice to any nurse - young or old, new or experienced: Never stop learning. Never stop being amazed. And on those days when you just can't even...consider the fact that while it may not be your best day, you might actually be the bright light in someone else's. 

Happy Nurses Week

And if you would like to read more of my occasional  musing about nursing - click here:

It's a Living

Haunted

 I work odd hours, sometimes getting me home late at night when everyone else is sound asleep. 

One such evening, as I was getting cleaned up before bed, I heard someone in the kitchen. Drawers opening and closing, cutlery shuffling. 

I thought for a minute that Rob was up making a late night snack, even though he was SOUND asleep when I got home. I was tempted to tiptoe down the hall and peek in through the pass through window from hall to kitchen and say ‘hey!’. 

But something kept me from doing so. 

A slight crawling sensation at the back of my neck. 

Instead, I finished up in the bathroom, scurried to bed and crawled in next to my SOUNDLY sleeping husband. 

The next morning there was no evidence of a late night snack attack. I asked Rob about the sounds, and while he had slept through that visit, he did report that when coming back in the house after doing yard work, he felt as though someone was in the house. TWICE. And such a real feeling that he actually searched the premises! 

Welcome to our haunted house.

A haunted house…

A haunting image…

Haunted by the memory…

Phrases that evoke romantic, suspenseful,  mysterious feelings..

A phrase which evokes looks of concern over one's mental stability…

You get used to it.

I have lived in this haunted house for 37 years. We began to suspect its extracorporeal resident shortly after moving in when, one night,I smelled the distinct scent of cigar smoke and heard the pages of a book turning. It was around midnight. My husband was at work and I was alone with the cat. 

I cleared the house in my best FBI manner- flipping every light on and shouting ‘we’re coming in!’ 

(We, being me and the cat.)

I covered every inch, following the sound to the basement where the noise and smell were strongest until I flipped the light in the back room when it all stopped.

I moved back through the house, shaking my head and wondering about my state of mind, turning lights off as I passed, the cat trotting along at my feet, silently judging my ridiculousness.

Until we passed the dark powder room. This is when my normally mild mannered feline hunched her back and hissed in a manner I had never heard. 

I don’t remember how I got back to my bedroom. I do remember the slamming door as I buried myself deep under the country blue comforter. 

Rob looked at me with concern when I told him this tale the next morning. His skepticism and background in psychiatric care kept me mute to the shadows I would see move in the hallway through the pass through in the kitchen. Or the footsteps I would hear from time to time. 

It was several months later that we learned, from the overly informative neighbor, that Mrs. D. had died in the kitchen. 

‘Dead before she hit the floor’ in Virginia’s bluntly comforting words.

Things became clearer after that.

Taking this knowledge and sculpting it with my extensive research of scary movies and Stephen King books, I decided that Mrs. D. was clearly displeased with our multitude of changes to HER house.

I took to informing her that while I LOVED roses, I thought they would be better suited in the side yard rather than on the patio where our eventual toddler could fall into the thorns.

That bird mural on the hall was LOVELY! But as it was fading and I could never do it justice, it was getting painted over. Oh, and the ADORABLE pink shutters used to frame it were gone as well…

Mrs. D. did more than visit. She seems to have taken on the job of afterlife hostess, ushering in ‘the see-through man’ who would watch the kids as they played in the living room, the gentle reassuring guest whose warm palm touched my cheek one sleepless night, the annoyed visitor who exploded a glass on the kitchen counter and kept knocking a shoe off of a baby doll. She has even allowed visits from both of our cats, now gone to their better place. 

Years have passed and Mrs. D. has made her presence known here and there. So much so that we decided to do some research. Turns out she was a graphic artist. 

The powder room was supposed to be part of a master bedroom suite, but plans changed.

The garage door-painted like brick to match the house-was a dare. And so much fun to raise to the shocked expressions of bystanders.

I learned a few things from her son, whom I worked with briefly, although not closely enough to tell him his mother was still hanging around.

Some I learned from our friend google and some concrete facts were discovered by a good friend and her ancestry account. 

Thankfully, as time has passed, Rob has admitted to hearing footsteps and noting the undeniable presence of our first cat walking along the back of the couch while our present cat slept in plain view. 

Such a fun sharing moment. 

Overnight guests have also noticed things-a lamp turning itself on, a toy unwinding and of course, those footsteps. 

Some folks find it creepy that I am so nonchalant with these strange happenings.

Honestly, I sort of like the idea that maybe we get to visit from time to time. 

I have read that ‘hauntings’ can be reasoned away as excess energy, left from previous occupants who experienced extreme emotion in the haunted space.

If Einstein is to be believed, “Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another.”

I hope Mrs. D. is happy energy.

I think she is.

And to that end, we threw her a birthday party this year. It was her 102 birthday. (I only recently found the date or we would have had a blowout 100th!)

And I’ll hold a memorial on the day of her passing. In the kitchen. Right on the floor.

Fondue! It's what you do for your circa 1970's house ghost's birthday!

Tuppence a Bag

 I am not sure when I became a crazy bird lady. 

Yes, we inherited a well weathered wooden feeder when we bought the house 37 years ago.

Sure, when the kids were little we made special bird cakes and popcorn and cranberry strands to hang in the ‘bird tree’ at Christmas.

Okay, I have requested bird feeding paraphernalia for several gift giving holidays in the past. 

And…I have not one but two bird identifier aps on my phone….

Robins playing a drinking game

The prevailing thought seems to be that a bird feeder, binoculars, notebook and brown paper bag of breadcrumbs arrives concurrent with your AARP card. (With the first time you complain about the weather as related to joint pain they add in an Audubon beginners bird book.)

Admittedly the median age of any five people in my bird seed store (yes, I have a preferred bird seed store - Wild Birds Unlimited) is 64.25 years of age, this is no reason to automatically assign senior discount status to my credentials. I do think that while our ‘lost year’ (the pandemic) helped make birding more acceptable to multiple generations, there is still a sensible shoes and bulky cardigan sweaters vibe attached. 

(This does not include Hummingbirds. Hummingbirds are enjoying a globally popular resurgence in feeding and tracking. And while they are thrilling, I have yet to see such meanly aggressive behavior in any of my other yard birds. I had to set up a decoy feeder just so Alpha Hummingbird could guard ‘HIS’ feeder.) 

slightly grainy photo of Alpha Hummingbird

I eased into bird watching slowly with the aforementioned inherited feeder. Fueled by observing the delight my Dad took in spotting a tufted titmouse or a rare blue bunting. 

In fact, Dad was the first person I alerted when I spotted not one but two vibrantly blue bunting at my feeders one summer. 

There is nothing quite like the thrill of catching the first migratory dark eyed junco cruising in for a tasty suet snack. Or catching a bluejay as he grabs an entire peanut in the shell. 

And don’t get me started on spotting TWO actual blue birds at the birdbath over Christmas this year! 

Of course, bird watching is also an opportunity to teach your young children about the circle of life as Red-Tailed hawk swoops in, clearing the busy feeder and catching a turtle dove nearly twice his side. The catch being so big that he had to hop-drag it to the top of the yard where an even larger hawk relieved him of his meal. 

It was an equally amazing and horrifying lesson. But one that made a lasting impression on the importance of living in the moment…

I added the Merlin bird ID ap during one of the many Bird Count Weekends. An at home event The next Great Backyard Bird Count is Feb 16-19. Check it out here - https://www.birdcount.org/

What better excuse than to hang around by your favorite window or on your deck with a cup of coffee!

One of the most peaceful activities in my mind is just quietly watching the traffic at my newly filled feeder. There are identifiable traffic patterns and seatings. 

Early morning gets the smaller birds, cardinals, blue jays and squirrels. 

Mid-day brings starlings, doves, robins and squirrels. 

Evening can be a mix, especially if The Great Seed Lady opts to refill. Then it’s a little bit of everyone. 

And squirrels.

Okay, technically not a squirrel, but just so amazing. And part of the feeding pattern

not a single bird or squirrel has EVER brought their babies up to visit.

Unlike a lot of birders, I don’t mind the ancillary eaters - including but not limited to squirrels, deer, raccoons, possums, fox, coyote and once an actual HORSE!

They provide a bit of comic relief as they try to hang upside down to empty the $35 a bag thistle seed all over the ground, or attempt to grab a quick drink of water while not disturbing the human sitting in the deck chair less than a foot away from the bird bath.

And how much fun is it to watch that scoop of seed shoot out of the feeder and onto your feet because Squirrel has chewed a larger opening in the side of the feeder to make it easier to throw seed everywhere. 

The trick is to keep the everyone well fed to the point of hiding whole peanuts in the deck plants thus providing a fun experiment in Just What is That Sprouting in February in my banana tree pot and NOT eating my tomatoes.

Yet, with all the extra cost of seed, suet, feeders, heated bird bath… The many mornings racing to the fill the feeders before work, in rain and sleet and below zero temps…

Seeing Half-Tail Squirrel peeking in the kitchen window when the seeds are late or hearing Carolina Wren chirping and leaving tiny feet prints by the backdoor in a dusting of snow makes it all worthwhile. 

And when they leave their suet in the shape of a heart?! 

Go ahead and ship me my brightly colored housedress, and field vest. 

My name is Laura and I am a Bird Watcher.  

(I would also like to give a Shout-out to longtime Coast of Illinoiser - BO, for her quick thinking and bravery in snapping a picture of the rare, inside, cold-weather Hairnet. While unsure of the exact species, it has been determined that this particular variety is harmless, most likely lethargic from an ambient heat source and too much chatter about football and Taylor Swift.) 

Coast of Illinois is not liable for any injury, or mockery sustained while photographing nets in the wild.


Happy Depths of Winter, Everyone!
Stay warm, make hot chocolate and study those seed catalogs for Spring!