During Lunch, Between Storms

During lunch, yesterday, I sat beneath a tree, listening to rainwater drip through its leaves.  Together with the ambient odor of cigarette smoke, it brought me back to my days at Faire. 

This picture was taken between severe thunderstorms.  The mist wasn't visible except on the image.  I took three photos, each with the same mist.  It wasn't cigarette smoke, just an interesting effect of the light through the trees, refracting off the moisture in the air.  

1993.  My first year at the Bristol Renaissance Faire.  That's me standing in the middle of the frame, in red and blue, playing recorder.  Two seasons later found me as Assistant Music Director, actor, and founder of Tabardynn, my recorder duo.  First with Erica (the young lady in blue, far right), and then with Lori a few years later. It looks dry in the picture, but I'm fairly certain it rained like crazy later in the day...  In the beginning, Erica and I splashed in the puddles during the rain.  Later on, we learned it was far preferable to find cover somewhere and stay as dry as possible--which wasn't very dry at all!

'Shrooms!

I found these mushrooms at Angela's, today...

All in a day's work at clinical...

My resident in clinical this week is a wonderfully sweet woman who came to the US from Germany when she was 16. She was born in 1916.

She's been at this place for some time, and recently had been confused to the point that she can't understand or speak her native German, and can't answer where she came from or when. It's rather tragic;  she's a very gentle, endearing woman, and I've been told her family are also very nice.

I suppose it goes without saying that aside from her diagnosed Alzheimer's, she also suffers mild compulsive disorder. She snaps out of her stupor when she's toileted, at which time she shouts that the bathroom isn't clean. Of course, it's very clean.  It didn't surprise me one bit that this old German woman would be hyper-concerned about the state of cleanliness of her toilet.

That aside, she's become my very favorite resident. 

Today, a mother duck and her ducklings were ushered from the enclosed courtyard, indoors across the hallway, and out to the front of the building. The mother led the ducklings (ushered by the maintenance man) across the hall and outside again.  She stood to the side beneath a tree and honked loudly, calling to her fowl crew. 

A few made it across the hall from courtyard to front yard without incident. The others escaped, avoiding the herding humans and scampering around the human barricade to scatter this way and that down the hallway. Some were shooed outside.  Others had to be picked up and placed outside.

It was quite a sight, and I was delighted to be a part of it (I was asked to hold open the door leading to the front yard). I so wanted to pick up one of the ducklings, but was afraid to scent them and have them rejected by the mother. I'm actually a little worried for the ones who had been picked up. The maintenance guy pooh-poohed someone's concern by saying, "Oh, they have a bunch of new ones every year!"

It seems this is a yearly occurrence and nothing new to the maintenance man and other staff.  That inner courtyard is a nice safe place to nest and sit on the eggs... Until they hatch and can't get out. The mother duck can fly in and out, but the babies can't.