Welcome to the Misadventures of Widowhood blog!

Welcome to my World---Woman, widow, senior citizen seeking to live out my days with a sense of whimsy as I search for inner peace and friendships. Jeez, that sounds like a profile on a dating app and I have zero interest in them, having lost my soul mate of 42 years. Life was good until it wasn't when my husband had a massive stroke and I spent the next 12 1/2 years as his caregiver. This blog has documented the pain and heartache of loss, my dark humor, my sweetest memories and, yes, even my pity parties and finally, moving past it all. And now I’m ready for a new start, in a new location---a continuum care campus in West Michigan, U.S.A. Some people say I have a quirky sense of humor that shows up from time to time in this blog. Others say I make some keen observations about life and growing older. Stick around, read a while. I'm sure we'll have things in common. Your comments are welcome and encouraged. Jean

Wednesday, May 3, 2023

The New Me, Swans and Painting-by-Numbers

It seems like a lifetime since I last sat down at the computer to write. I didn’t even take a break from posting when I was in the hospital with broken ribs so this transition from posting twice a week to once a week is going to take some getting used to. Figuring out how to allot my new found time is going to effect the entire rhythm of my life except for Wednesdays. Wednesdays have long been my favorite days in the week because I get to play Mahjong and I get to publish new posts on my blog. I missed you all!

Things that happened since last week’s post:

Eight baby swans have hatched and are now swimming close to their mama in the lake here at continuum care campus. If I had a lake view apartment I’d probably get too invested in their little lives. For the next few weeks those residents who do have the prime views will be alternating between watching the babies grow and watching the snapping turtle pluck them off one by one, then giving the rest of us reports over lunch. Last year I saw one of the babies get pulled under by a dinner plate sized turtle and after that I couldn’t walk down to the lake until after they got too big for the turtles to mess with. The parent swans only got raised two of the seven they started out with last year. 

We have a guy living here who retired from a high ranging position in the Department of Natural Resources who says, “Think what a problem it would be to have that many swans on the lake. It’s the circle of life and the turtles are doing their job.” Back when my brother was a teenager he and his future brother-in-law entered that circle of life one summer and caught some of those huge turtles and cooked them on a hot plate in our backyard at the cottage. My mom wouldn’t let them do it inside and I thought it was cruel to kill them and I wouldn’t try the meat even though I was told it tasted like chicken. Ohmygod, I’ll bet they taste that way because they eat water fowl!

I’ve started taking a painting class here on the campus. It’s four weeks long, (three hours per session) taught by the same woman who micro-taught the one I took over a year ago. The class only costs $10 including the canvas, oil paints, all the other supplies plus the use of the CCC’s good quality brushes. Too cheap to pass up. Some of you may remember the drama that went on during that first class when the instructor said something dump/silly to one of the ladies and Ms Hurt Feelings left and didn’t come back. She threw her canvas in the trash and said she was keeping the #10 filbert brush “…because I should get something for my money.” 

This year’s class we have four of us returning and two newbies. The Scottish singer/resident alcoholic is one of them and he’s as blind as a bat so it should be interesting to see what he does. The other newbie is a lady who has never held a brush before and I talked her into taking the class. She really wanted to but was afraid of making a fool out of herself. I assured her the instructor’s (high-handed) hand-holding teaching methods is perfect for her. There’s no room for individual creativity in her classes but she does teach beginners useful techniques for mixing paints, how to do brush and palette knife strokes and the proper care of brushes, that sort thing. 

No one in the class knows I have a degree in art, or rather that Jean 1.0 has a degree. Jean 2.0 lost her skills, knowledge and confidence. In the dementia circles the experts say we need to meet people where they’re at and so that’s what I’m doing with myself. Yup, the discontinued model of myself couldn’t even finish a simple pasture of cows I started last winter so I’m meeting the Jean 2.0 at the bottom and working my way up. Trying to chase my former self was freezing me up and now I’m hoping to just enjoy the process without the stress of trying to live up to the artist I used to be 30 years ago. She’s gone.

Jean 2.0 even bought three paint-by-number kits to start at the very bottom where Jean 1.0 began as a kid. Two of the paint-by-numbers are customized from photos that I sent to the company. They should arrive this week. I can’t wait to try them. I have relatives who are into Mid-Century Modern decor and no self-respecting home of that era was without a paint-by-number on the wall. I picked photos with them in mind should they turn out well. One thing Jean 1.0 did that I’d like to duplicate is giving away paintings as I finish them. 

The other paint-by-number I’ve already got started on. (photos at the top.) Thankfully, I still have a steady enough hand to paint within the lines and a good magnifying glass to actually see them. (I did a little research online and learned that ‘painting’ with toothpicks in the tiny areas works fantastic.) As a kid I did a lot of paint-by-numbers until my mom found me a couple of after school art classes down at the art museum which must have been a pain for her to drive me to. We only had one car so on those days she’d have to take my dad to work and pick him back up again. He worked nights so that meant he got picked up in a bad neighborhood at midnight. If Mom was still alive I’d thank her for all the things she did for me that I took for granted, then I'd apologize for not living up to the potential she saw in me. Do we all judge ourselves through the eyes of our mothers?

Last and least…at lunch a woman asked if I was signed up for the Mother’s Day Breakfast and I told her I’m not a mother but she insisted that aunts are welcome, too. Didn’t matter, I don’t want to go. I’ve never been to a Mother’s Day event but imagine them to be a place were they compare kids and their accomplishments. Finally, she says,”You’re going!” and she marched over to the concierge's desk and signed me up. When I got back home I hoped on our community app and canceled the reservation. It made me mad that at my age someone would think they can make decisions like that for me, then I proceeded to wonder if that’s what I did to the friend about taking the painting class? After debating with myself I gave myself a pass because she initially expressed an interest in going and she herself called to register. No amount of badgering on my part would have made her call if she didn’t really want to do it. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Until next Wednesday….  ©

32 comments:

  1. At least you’re posting once a week. I love reading your blog.
    Cheerful Monk

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  2. I like that pix you're going to do a Paint By Number of. I have several Mid-Century Paint By Number Art unframed that I like a lot, it's kitschy, but that's my favorite thing anyway and it is Trending now... go figure. As for 1.0 selves and 2.0 selves, coming to terms with that can be a Process. The Daughter found some of my Pencil Drawings from back when Art was my intense Passion, she asked me why I quit since they were so good? I didn't have an answer, but glad I kept a little bit of my 1.0 self accomplishments, so that I recall I used to be pretty good at such things. That self hasn't surfaced in a long time now and probably never will again, but I am okay with that now.

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    1. Having art work from when we used to be good is a two-edged sword, at least to me. It both inspires me to try to be good again but also is discouraging when I can't seem to do it. I've decided that it's mostly because I'm not devoting the same intensity of time to the process as I once did coupled with some loss of finger dexterity.

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  3. I've adjusted to once a week, just so you know! Now I'm just twice as eager to read and comment. I need to try my hand at painting. My mom did oils, my daughter has acrylics but I think I'm going to try water colors. Mostly I've been spending my time with my new best friend, Olive ... my army green Subaru Forester. I've got wings! The boys have sports 2x week and Mr. 12 has 3 days a week. Plus Zoom tutoring twice a week. But he has become Mr. Social and is rarely home on weekends ... out walking and exploring the rail tracks. 6 miles one day and 7 the other. I usually get called to see if I can retrive them. They land here like locusts and all the junk food devoured. One group came and got him and half an hour later a different goup comes by asking for him. Mr 9 tells them he's out so the take off. An hour later that same group comes back (Mr. 12 wasn't home yet) so they invited Mr, 9 to hang out with them. Hiking through our State Park (3 blocks away) for 3 hours!

    Baby swans are so cute ... they are really called cygnets!



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    1. Those boys are growing up fast. Love that you got a new Subaru to haul them around. It wouldn't be long before they'll be off to college so you're wise to invest in giving them quality grandma time while you still can.

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  4. No paint-by-number painting I saw back in the 50's look as intricate as the photo you converted to a paint-by-number painting. That would take a steady hand, for sure.

    It's tough to let go of a skill that once meant so much to us, isn't it? Unlike you, I no longer have steady hands. My violin, although not rare or major-orchestra-worthy, was too valuable to stay unused. It was sold some years ago. I'm now over the bitterness of disappointment and wish I could saw away at it now and then. I do still have the practice violin I bought for the grandchildren as they used to take lessons with a local teacher when they came to visit me, but it needs to be repaired now. Perhaps as you have the courage to begin at the beginning, I'll get that practice violin repaired.

    I especially wish you well with your determination to start at the beginning again. Your tolerance level should be applauded, too. I do remember the previous time you took an art class in the facility.

    I couldn't remember this morning whether you had elected to write on Wednesday or Saturday. I was so relieved to open your blog site and see a new post.

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    1. The photo at the top of this blog isn't one of the ones I had converted. This was a cheap $5.00 paint-by-number 12" x 16" kit. I'll probably do a post about the process the end of May as the kits are both different and the same as those from my childhood. At least this one is.

      Yes, the hardest part of art now is to let go of my past successes and just start over where I'm at now. Comparing what I tried to do with the cow pasture with skills from years ago was freezing me up and letting that go was a break-though idea for me. Hope you get that violin repaired and try learning again. IN dementia circles they use a lot of music as treatment so you can always justify the expense as therapy to keep your brain healthy.

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  5. I missed you, Jean! It was great to see your name in my emails this morning.
    That painting on your header is lovely--it makes me long for summer flowers, but we're wondering if it will ever warm up here in the Midwest. I cannot imagine watching a turtle take down a baby swan. Years ago, back on our farm, there was a snow goose with an injured wing. She'd been left behind by her flock and it really bothered me. She was a wild thing and when I walked down to check on her, she didn't like it at first. I found myself going down several times a day, and I worried about the coyotes getting her at night. It took her over a month to heal and just when she and I had become friends, she was able to use her wing to fly away. One day I saw a speck of white, off in the field, and I knew it was time for her to find her flock. I'm kinda goofy. I get attached too easily, I guess.

    It's wonderful that you were introduced to art as a child! They say that when a young person learns to paint, play a musical instrument, etc., it affects the hard wiring of the brain (in a good way, lol). Your parents wanted the best for you.
    I hope you enjoy your art class.

    Are you feeling back to normal yet?

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    1. Glad your snow goose had a happy ending. I think the flock of swans may have better luck this year. The parents moved them to a small pond between our buildings, about 50 feet from the lake. I don't think there are any turtles in there. They seem to be able to pull enough food up to feed them. Fingers crossed they can stay there awhile.

      My parents, especially my mom, didn't have typical childhoods and they made sure my brother and I did. They took us to every class they could find. My brother played the accordion will into his teens---very Italian, and I played the Hawaiian guitar until the speak nearly electrocuted me once. I can believe music and art introduced early on effects your brain in a good way. They used both in stroke rehab with my husband and my brother now has a music therapist. I went to a concert at his building yesterday and he was singing right along with the entertainment. Lots of the songs were ones we sang together while we were doing dishes at kids.

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  6. Before I forget, a question for you -- is the image you showed the photograph you sent to be puzzled or the puzzle itself? It will be beautiful, either way.

    I'm so glad you're taking the painting class. I know art mattered to you -- you wouldn't have moved an easel with those hopes if it didn't. Your comparison of Jean 1.0 and 2.0 intrigued me and gave food for thought. My 1.0 Me was a singer and a darned good one. 2.0 Me can't sing well to save her soul anymore. The voice have changed and I haven't learned the tools to work with it. It's like that with my painting too. I do it most in the summer and I get pretty good. Then from October till -- well, Sketchbook Revival, I guess -- I do very little apart from whip out some holiday cards, super simple/fast, "cheater" designs. I have to learn the techniques over every year when I gear up again -- color mixing, application, all that. The interesting thing is that the more I do it, the more I get closer to my old self in terms of skill and confidence. I have no doubt you will too, and hope you saved your pasture painting. And if you're tired of that one, gesso over it and do another!

    I hope the new painter enjoys the class and isn't intimidated by the others. It's so exciting to learn something new. I'm glad you're her friend.

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    1. That picture at the top is the paint-by-number kit that I bought for $5.00. But that kit wasn't like I expected to get. In the past the image was on art was on hard board covered canvas. This came as folded canvas in a plastic bag with the little cups of paint. No instructions or tips. So I researched online and from all the information I found I'm guessing other kits come the same way. So I had to iron the canvas and buy a stretcher frame to put it one. I had gotten rid of my shoot stapler so I invested in cheap, $10 gun. So the $5 kit added up. LOL It had been long while since I stretched a canvas so I had to google that was well. But I'm excited about painting with numbers again. Can't wait to try the portraits I had converted from photographs. Apparently there are at least 3 companies that do it and got sent photos to two different ones. I'll do a post review of them early summer when I've had time to work with them.

      I talked to the new painter in our class last night and she's pumped about the class. When we put our canvases down at the end of the session she could see her's was a good as everyone else's. Unfortunately, the woman who threw her painting away last year has badmouthed the instructor quite a bit so I feel like I have to defend her when the class comes up. She's not trying to make real artists out of us, just give us a leisure time hobby. My motto is when in Rome do as the Roman's do. The instructor doesn't like us to paint with texture so she'll have us scrap it off when we do. (I'd forgotten that and our half blind guy and I both committed that sin already.) I just like being around others who want to paint and my goal is just to let the class prime the pump.

      I used to be able to sing too and can't anymore but for brain exercises for seniors I guess it's good to start practicing again.

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  7. Your comment about watching the babies disappear, one by one, reminded me of the struggle I went through when I first witnessed that phenomenon with baby mallards. Here, it's often the gar fish that pull them down by their feet. Once they attain a bit more size, they're not such an easy target. I laughed to hear that I'm not the only one who has expressed a certain philosophical opinion about it all. I often say that if we didn't lose a certain number of duck babies, we'd be up to our hips in ducks. I also can attest that the mothers who hatch 15 or 17 babies are happy enough to have only 6 or 7 to keep track of!

    I did quite a bit of paint-by-numbers when I was kid. I was introduced to it when I had chicken pox, and was quarantined for a while. I don't remember any of the paintings, per se, but I well remember the smell of the paint. It's a nice memory, too.

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    1. Nothing smells as good as oil paint, to me. It's one of my favorite things about the class...can't use oils in the apartments and safely be able to get rid of the cleaning rags and liquids.

      I can believe that about the mother water fowl trying to keep up with feeding a large family. At the little pond we can sit without 10 feet of them and watch the parents dive for dinner.

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  8. I don't even want to think about the swans and turtles.

    Your philosophy of Acceptance with your art must feel liberating, and that's a good thing. Our hobbies are supposed to provide us with pleasure and be a form of happy diversion and therapy. If they aren't, then they just become a tiresome chore. Heaven knows we've got housework for that. (And putting up with family, in some cases! LOL)

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    1. It is liberating to accept myself where I'm at and not where I wish I was and would have been if life hadn't gotten in the way. In reality, I haven't seriously painted since I started share-caring for my dad back in the mid 1990s. The challenge for me, now, it to not fall off that Acceptance Wagon and get ahead of where I'm truly at in the skills department.

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  9. Well, I wouldn't want to see the baby swans going under, but the DNR guy is right, I guess. The lake would be overrun soon. I know the dentist office watches them, too, as they have often commented on them when I'm there.

    I had no idea you could turn a photo into a paint by number. Very cool!

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    1. The people at the dentist office aren't going to see much of the babies now. The parents moved them all in dead of night to a little pond between the building across the lake and the town houses. I kicked named the pond area a secret garden last year because it took me a full season to find it.

      I didn't know you could do that with paint-by-numbers either and it doesn't cost that much. The samples the show look very cool and in hindsight I probably didn't pick the right photos but now that I know I can do that, I'll be on the look out for good subjects.

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  10. Well, I miss your Saturday post so feel free to pop back on whenever the spirit (or words) move you!
    Enjoy the painting time! Sounds like fun!

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  11. I remember the paint-by-numbers my mom did and hung in our home, when I was growing up. I applaud you not being afraid to "start over" with your art skills. I like coming back to something I used to be good at, with a beginner's mind. It's humbling and freeing at the same time, I think. Both are good.

    Deb

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  12. I'm happy to hear you're getting the paint out...whatever and however you want to do it!
    After my 35 year painting hiatus I just craved the feel of paint and brush, so paint-by-numbers got me back into it. I think part of it is brain/muscle memory so don't guilt trip yourself if you don't like what you paint free-hand, just do another one! Maybe that's why the instructor doesn't want heavy paint layers....she knows many will want to do a 'paint over'. Acrylics don't feel like oil, but often having a dry canvas to work on is an advantage, and I enjoy both.

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    1. That's inspiring knowing you had a hiatus from painting too! You are such a good artist, I thought you'd been doing it for ever. Also interesting is you used paint-by-numbers to get you back into it.

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  13. I had no idea one could send off a photograph and have it turned into a paint-by-numbers kit. My only experience with paint-by-numbers (when I was a kid) didn't end well. I misunderstood big swaths of the canvas with number 22 as number 2 and ended up with a painting of two pea-green kittens. Of course, if I had been thinking about what I was doing instead of just blindly following directions, I would have realized that all that bright green was going inside the lines that defined the kittens!
    I stopped worrying about paying attention to Mother's Day when my mother died more than a dozen years ago. Yesterday, I was making plans with a friend for lunch and a concert next weekend and she said, "Oh, wait, that's Mother's Day; restaurants are going to be crowded." I'm never sure how to respond when strangers wish me a "Happy Mother's Day." When the better angels of my nature are in the ascendance, I just smile and say thank-you. But, underneath, I resent the assumption that all women above a certain age are mothers, so sometimes I reply churlishly with "I'm not a mother."

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    1. Everyone whose ever done paint-by-numbers has a horror story to tell like yours. LOL

      I'm always uncomfortable when people just assume I'm a mother. My story of infertility isn't as tragic as some couples and I often think how hard it must be for them.

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  14. Your adjustment to where you are living and starting where you are with some activities you used to do is inspiring! I do love the concept of me 2.0. Also hoping the baby swans survive.

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    1. I'll let you know if the baby swans and Jean 2.0 survive over the coming months/

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  15. Once a week is better then no posts at all, I would like to be able to paint even by numbers but with how much I shake it isn't going to happen, anything I try to paint will look like it was done by a 2yr old...........lol

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    1. Shaky hands would make it hard to do a lot of things. Thankfully there are hobbies out there that don't require fine motor movements.

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  16. I'll miss your Saturday posts since most of the blogs I follow only post on weekdays, so I'm saving your Wednesday posts for the weekend. About the mother's day breakfast: when I worked in a nursing home years ago, the saddest people at the mother's day gatherings weren't the retired singles (old maids, in those days), they were the women who had six kids and didn't hear from any of them! Just caused they birthed them doesn't mean they care, which as a childless person gives me some perverse satisfaction.

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    1. As another childless person I can see why. LoL

      Glad you continue to follow me....Thanks for that.

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