A Stinky Rascal

 March 5, 2026

A Stinky Rascal

They say be careful what you wish for. 

I am an artist. I draw, paint, and write. And I do each one fairly well. No, I do not live my life in a profession that allows me to hone these skills/hobbies/talents/gifts. Well, I suppose one might say I do as I try to teach 75 totally uninterested sixth graders the long lost and quickly disappearing art of writing due to AI. Instead, I live my life feeling stifled by a lack of time to ever perform any of them, (this writing aside of course.) In the last year, I made a pledge to myself to make time. So I re-read the Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron and proceeded to spend the entire summer writing Morning Pages. I spent afternoons working on and finishing a short story that I vowed to publish on Amazon KDP – no it’s not there yet, but at least I finished. I purposely chose a short story to allay the overwhelming feeling of tackling a whole novel while I’m in this baby step phase of reclaiming my long lost loves.  I also began painting. I painted tiny little pictures that were portable for my upcoming first art fair. You see, I have an MFA and used to paint on canvases that were 4’x3’ at the smallest and 4’x7’ at the tallest. That will not happen again. It literally takes a room to store all those paintings from grad school 25 years ago that I cannot seem to part with. (Emotional attachment is real.) But I digress, so as I near retirement I have vowed to start honing my skills to prepare for a life of artistry in my leisure time. I will write, and create works of art. 

Well, someone got wind of my talent, maybe it was the art fair, maybe it was me seeking praise and confirmation for my long lost art skills. And now I have been invited to show at a huge fundraiser. I am to stand there and perform like a trained monkey painting on site (something I would never do), while displaying other completed pieces that I have not even started yet because I was also given a theme to paint. Meanwhile, people who do not value true art but want a piece of it will clamor for me to sell it at ridiculously devalued prices as if it is a machine made giclee print being sold in TJ Maxx for $40.00. Even if I sell it at a very reasonable $500 for time, materials, framing, and execution. The organization will want their cut to go towards their scholarships. 

Maybe that's why I dreamed last night that I went out foraging. I came in and some mushrooms fell out of my bag. Then, I put it in the corner, and it began to move. Next a baby skunk crawled out and before I could react, a baby racoon popped its head out of the bag too. I guess something stinks, and I am going to be dealing with a relentless mischievous rascal. Be careful what you wish for.

No Selfie Stick or Fire Hoses

I am so proud of my husband. He just glided in his last aircraft landing from Portugal yesterday after 48 years of flying (26 for United and 22 years flying for the Marines). The entire crew  joined our family for his last meal at one of his favorite restaurants in the Barrio Alto. The next day on the plane, his crew made a great congrats announcement and all the passengers clapped. Then, on landing, he made an awesome farewell speech on the loudspeaker where he introduced  me and my son and then passed the gauntlet to him as he announced our son's intent to become a pilot as well. 

As we taxied towards the gate, we were met by fire trucks shooting water over the plane. The door opened to a Jetway filled with a host of friends from the grounds to other pilots. Lastly, he had our son stand by his side to say goodbye wearing his captain's hat, and yes, he even made me join them. The passengers all hugged him and some even stopped to take selfies.

Next, the chief pilot came on board and gave him a beautiful plaque, and then he took pictures with he crew before heading out to join some more pilot friends and their family for dinner at Clyde’s. It was a great day for him, and he deserved it. 

Then,I began to think about my own retirement and what it will be like. I was truly happy for my husband, but thought how funny it was that 200 total strangers who never even saw his face until landing wanted to take pictures, hug, and high-five him. He was treated like a celebrity, as if he had done something that they will will remember him always for. He flew 1/3 of their seven hour flight sharing duties with two other pilots. Yet these total strangers wanted hugs and selfies with him. 

Yes, I am extremely proud of my husband for his 22 years of service with the Marines (including flying in the Gulf War) and then 26 more years for a commercial airline. However, when I retire I know I will pack up and empty my room one last time, pick up a lapel pin at the last faculty meeting, and maybe be given a cake and small celebration in the teacher's lounge if I am lucky. Of the thousand's of kids who I cared for, taught, and nurtured for 180 days each year... there will be no selfie stick or fire hoses shooting water. But I will get the best gift of all, the memory of all the lives I touched and the knowledge that I know I made a difference.