It’s a good thing there’s a prompt to answer today, because action around here was fairly limited. So, I’ll dwell on my favorite season and you can think about yours, and maybe even share it in the comments! Why not? I’ll share some pretty nature sights from today, in the unofficial season of late spring humidity.
They took the forms off our concrete slabs. Whee.
When I lived in Illinois, I could never choose between spring and autumn as my favorite seasons. Crabapple trees, spring bulbs, peonies, and lilacs made the world so beautiful up there. But in autumn there were the orange, red, and yellow deciduous trees that contrasted so beautifully with the dark tree trunks (or light, with birch trees). It was beautiful in Champaign-Urbana, all year round. That’s right. I liked winter as long as it was above 0°F and there wasn’t an ice storm.
Simple sunflower and resident crab spider.
Here in Texas, I only have one season I don’t enjoy, and that’s summer. At least my new job will force me to stay indoors during the worst of the heat. I always feel sad for the animals, especially the chickens, and the dying grass on ground with huge cracks in it from drought always looks apocalyptic. I don’t need more reminders of apocalypses. Plus there are the fewest birds here in summer.
Gaillardia and frog fruit.
It’s hard not to like spring in this area, with all the wildflowers, birds, and butterflies. I hope we still have them in the future. This year was pretty bad for all of them, thanks to an unusually dry winter. And sadly, spring always reminds me that summer will be here soon. Not to mention how many allergies spring brings (but I appreciate the plants’ need to reproduce).
Black swallowtail
At this point in my life, autumn is my favorite time of year, even though it often arrives late. I can take long walks, once it cools off, and more birds show up as they migrate south. I love the smell of fallen leaves, which also make it easier to see wildlife. The only problem with that time of year is that it’s so busy! There are conference and events and trips…
Clouded skipper.
Winter here is surprisingly great, though. It’s not that cold except for a few days each year, and there are so many entertaining birds to enjoy. Campgrounds are more empty, too. And I never sweat. I hate all that sweating in the other seasons. (I rarely sweated until menopause finally happened and I’m still not used to all that dripping.)
Mockingbird nest in the little tree we planted in the front yard. What a quality nest!
I’m not confident that I’ve answered the question. Let’s hope I’m much more with it tomorrow.
List three books that have had an impact on you. Why?
I have chosen three books (I actually discuss five, but one is a runner-up and two are related) that shaped me in that magical period when I was transitioning into an adult and my capacity for intellectual growth was at its peak. Each book was written when I was testing limits, making poor decisions I search of good decisions, and preparing to emerge a more rational and stable human. I’m grateful to have learned from these authors.
Metaphors We Live By
This book is by George Lakoff and Mark Johnson, two important scholars in pragmatics, the field I studied in graduate school. The thesis of the book is this:
The book suggests metaphor is a tool that enables people to use what they know about their direct physical and social experiences to understand more abstract things like work, time, mental activity and feelings. Wikipedia
My thinking about how society works, how media persuades audiences to, and how politicians manipulate the public have all been deeply affected by the ideas in this book.
My favorite example is the pervasiveness of the war metaphor. It’s one reason I can’t stand the phrase, “shoot me an email.” Business communication is just crawling with war terminology. Business is war. Politics is war. Love is a battlefield. This book was the impetus for me being me.
I recommend George Lakoff’s other works, as well. Once you start to see metaphors embedded in the language around you, you can’t forget it.
The Color Purple
I’m guessing most of you have been exposed to this work, originally a 1982 book by Alice Walker, in one form or another. I read it when it first came out, having read no reviews and knowing nothing about the author. This means my experience of The Color Purple wasn’t influenced by any preconceptions.
I was 24 when I read it. I’d never read an epistolary novel before, so I was charmed by the letter-writing format and how clearly the writer’s voice came through in each letter. I was also still fairly naive about how horrible humans can be to each other. The resilience and bravery the characters in the book affected me deeply.
The Color Purple told me that I, too, could survive and thrive in a world that threw many challenges at me. The characters have never left me and I’m not sure why.
I did love the film with Oprah Winfree in it. I just experienced it differently and got additional insights into the strength it takes to be your authentic self. I haven’t seen any other version and I’m okay with that. This is my favorite novel.
Runner Up: The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood (1985). I can’t bring myself to watch the television series. This book was too prescient.
The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets and The Skeptical Feminist
These are two books by Barbara G. Walker, also a prominent knitting writer of this time period. Both came out in the mid-1980s. These books introduced me to the idea of the maiden, mother, and crone archetypes.
The encyclopedia was my first introduction to feminist theology, and though it suffered from the same issues as many early neopagan writing (interpreting historical references and artifacts to support a mythical matriarchal past world, etc.), it still taught me enough to get me started on a lifetime of spiritual exploration. I can still remember sitting in my bedroom in Urbana, Illinois devouring this book when I should have been dissertating.
Bad image, sorry
The Skeptical Feminist may not be in print anymore, but it reassured me that my weird philosophical leanings since childhood weren’t signs of insanity—I just didn’t have the words and concepts to explain my vague yearnings to be one with nature. It also reassured me that I don’t have to “believe in” some deity to apply archetypes and metaphors (them again) as I forge my own beliefs. Whew.
I use this information today as I draw from the wisdom of Jesus without identifying as Christian and take comfort in Buddhist ideas without adhering strictly to any form. It’s so helpful in these times.
Fearful is not how I’d ever describe myself. I feel more like my horse, Apache, who is always vigilant against the unexpected and anxious when asked to do new things. We have a lot in common, he and I, which may explain why our progress is becoming a skilled horse/rider pair has been steady, but slow.
We are happy.
That leads me into one of the fears I’ve been working to overcome, which is the fear of cantering on this horse. I’d probably have been cantering long ago if I had a different equine partner, but Apache is the horse I was kindly given, so he’s who I’ve worked with. And cantering was never his best skill. His tendency to do a kick/buck maneuver whenever he set off to canter when he was younger is one reason my friend Sara gave him to me. She wanted to canter (as a good rider, she knew how) but his imbalance made it scary on him. Heck, he even kicked out to start cantering without a rider for the longest time.
Successful canter with Tarrin.
But years of exercise, bodywork, good medicine, and work on his feet led to much improvement. He now sets off very well and only on the wrong lead some of the time. After my trainer worked with him under saddle, he can now do a fine job, and that led me to overcome my fear of cantering on him. Plus I’m way better at staying on when he has a hiccup.
And if I fall I’m just closer to the rain lilies.
A key to overcoming that fear is a skill I’ve only managed to develop in the past few years, which is to push past my anxiety and DO the thing. Riding horses has helped a lot with developing that ability, one many folks are born with. I was born cautious, very cautious. It’s amazing I learned to ride a bicycle. On the other hand, I didn’t break any bones as a child, thanks to caution.
Even this precious dog didn’t break my bones when he pulled me down a steep hill. Precious.
You might not believe this one, but once I was quite afraid to do things by myself. I really didn’t like being alone (other than teen years of being in my bedroom listening to my records). I can remember how proud I was of myself when I walked out of my hotel in Toronto, and ate a meal by myself. It was a whole fish, prepared beautifully, and I had a good time. Working in Toronto for weeks at a time was good for me. I discovered I could ride a subway without a helpful friend, I could have a drink in a bar and enjoy talking to people, etc.
Free as a bird, I was.
Now I think nothing about eating alone, walking around a new town by myself, or going on long walks in nature. Of course, I’ve educated myself about safety in cities and nature, and I do prefer nature. I know how to spot the plants and animals to avoid. Learning about what you fear is a great way to overcome fears.
On another note, we almost have a screened porch!
I’m glad I can now take a deep breath and just DO a thing. It’s been very helpful in surviving life on a ranch property. I don’t realize how scary my everyday life can be to others until I get an urban visitor. I just know to check for snakes in the henhouse, watch my steps for fire ants, and avoid the poison ivy and nettle patches. I’ve educated myself so I’m not afraid!
How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?
I don’t think I’ve ever been great at unplugging, but I’ve muddled through by being very consistent with my meditation practice. That way I get at least 20 minutes of turning my racing thoughts off nearly every day. I’m glad I’m one of the people who can use meditation. I know some folks can’t.
Just relax and go to your happy place, in this case the bird sanctuary I help with.
But I’ve always been “too sensitive” and always felt a lot of empathy for people who are struggling. Combined with a drive to always occupy myself with work, volunteering, and knitting/crochet left me with little downtime and no time to unplug. Heck, I always worked on camping and condo trips. At least I worked with good scenery.
Good scenery is everywhere if you just look. Still I’m glad I live out in the middle of rural Texas.
I didn’t know how to listen to my mind and body and give them a rest when needed. I just made sure I had good anti-anxiety meds and took the right vitamins/supplements to support that busy brain and body. Not altogether healthy, huh?
My mind and body fighting each other, as depicted by Carlton and Penney.
My last trip to Hilton Head in April was the first time I ever really unplugged. I didn’t watch or read the news, I took lots of long walks, and I quit constantly writing in my head (I do that, like I’m my own narrator, which is truly annoying when I realize I’m doing it).
“I’m walking down the road heading to our house, thinking about how thick that giant cane has grown,” says Narrator Suna.
I found out I don’t keel over and the world doesn’t stop if I take a break from making contributions. I don’t always need to be mothering or mentoring. It’s all right just to BE sometimes.
Unplugging gives me time to slow down and notice like a shed grasshopper exoskeleton.
The past few months of not working for pay have helped me relax and taken a lot of pressure to succeed off me. I must confess I had a job interview Thursday and it went very well. I’m a sucker for helping an organization maximize their use of that darned software I’ve supported for so long. But I’ve learned to set firm limits, and even if I do one more consulting thing, its length will be limited.
Oh look, another exoskeleton. (cicada)
I’m sure I’ll need to remember how to unplug when that’s over, if I do okay on the second interview. Hmm, didn’t I ask you readers to talk me out of going back to work recently?
I’ll delay my book report another day, since I happen to have been thinking about my work history a lot today. I was trying to figure out whether I had a career arc or just a series of random ways to make money to live on. Hmm
Rain lilies with insects.
I started out planning to work in academia, but realized early on that I liked the teaching part way more than writing academic papers. After a couple of years working with the infant internet I suddenly was a web designer (back when it was EASY—I always like to mention that my first few sites didn’t have color, because everyone still had monochrome monitors. There’s more in my Prairienet post.
Once I got my first job at a software company, I knew what I liked to do, which was teach others about software. I loved writing software manuals and editing the work of others. I figured it out before I was 30, which is pretty good for figuring out what you want to be when you grow up.
Ruellia
The arrival of two children sent me on a detour, but not too far. I kept making websites for people, nonprofits and such, while teaching a different kind of adult as a breastfeeding support volunteer. I met so many lovely people and was able to be at home with my children! That was truly the best part of my work history.
Mud dauber on glass
I ended up getting a real job with the nonprofit and led their online efforts for a while. I got valuable experience working remotely and creating online communities. While that job had a pretty horrible ending as the organization went through one of its periodic implosions, I got to keep my knowledge and friends. After a good deal of therapy, I recovered (plus my spouse left, I did dumb stuff, and blah blah…).
I kept teaching no matter what. There are many people who knit or crochet thanks to me.
It’s fun.
It’s okay, because desperation to support my kids led me to a job writing software training that led me to meet my fine spouse, Lee. The years when we were first together led to a series of software training jobs where I learned to make videos and teach so many people so many things in so many industries from manufacturing to weird mainframe accounting software to telecommunications. It was really fun and challenging.
Portulaca
I got to concentrate on just one thing, project management software, for the past 15 years or so. I even had a “real” non-contract job, where I used every single skill I’d been developing. What a privilege! I loved making training videos, writing help content, designing user communities, and collaborating with smart people!
Now I’m some kind of expert in training this software, and people come looking for me. That feels good, even if I do like this retirement gig. I do enjoy helping organizations do productive work, so I may help out again, just not for four years like I did at my last contract job! That’s because horses and nature are also fun.
I’m worth not working.
So, yeah, my career had an arc. Teaching adults to use software. I’m still doing it for Master Naturalists, after all!
Here’s a question I had not considered before. I tend to have an overly existentialist view of life, that we’re here while we’re here, and when we’re gone, we’re gone. It’s been many years since I’ve thought about what happens when I’m gone.
My genes won’t live on in future generations, so I’m not sticking any thoughts in mitochondrial DNA. My books won’t sit on bookshelves and my knitting isn’t good enough to pass on reverently.
Nor is my bird photography. It’s barely adequate!
I think the volunteer work I’ve done has the most chance of leaving a legacy. I know I helped many, many women with feeding their babies when I put all that material on the old La Leche League website. That will pay forward for future generations.
And I survived those years only going a little cuckoo (this is a Yellow-billed Cuckoo).
The many hours I’ve spent documenting organisms found wherever I go on iNaturalist is another legacy. That data can help scientists in the future to learn more about how life changes through time. I’m proud of this work. Plus, it’s fun.
I documented this pond slider.
The third legacy I hope to leave is that if I helped anyone feel better or inspired them to take action, those I influenced will pass on the assistance or inspiration to others. I’d be very grateful to pass that legacy on.
Oh my. Just as I was getting to think I was going to be okay with not working for a living, I got one of those LinkedIn job recruitment deals. Usually those are fake. I did respond to one a few weeks ago but I literally couldn’t understand what the recruiter said and never heard back after my initial resume (I think I know why now).
Yes, I’m embarrassed I couldn’t understand someone speaking a different dialect of English.
Today, though, the letter was refreshingly friendly and contained details about the job. I may have gotten a solicitation about the same job yesterday, but it was so vague I ignored it. This job is another of those “made for me” positions doing pretty much what I did at Dell.
This is also what I do well, photography of tiny bugs on flowers.
Even though I’m not sure I want to work again, I did do an initial chat with the recruiter. Then I answered their 6 screening questions because well, I love writing about the software I used to support, and I love helping people succeed at managing projects with that weird but powerful product. I went ahead and gave the company some caveats I figured out at that last job. At least I could help a little even if I don’t take a job there.
Anyway, they started sending me all these emails about benefits and 401Ks. It’s sounding pretty serious and fast moving. And I’d make more money. I’ve already got my Medicare, too. No need for other insurance.
I will miss finding these guys if I’m in the house all day again.
Do I want this? Another year of meetings and job aids and individual help sessions? Working on Pacific Time? No time for horses?
Not being able to dress like this every day?
Talk me out of going back to work for a year. Please. Money isn’t everything. Lack of stress is so heavenly.
This is a beautiful gem of a book. First, it’s beautiful to touch and hold. The cover is textured and has watercolors illustrating the cover. It’s even got lovely, thick paper and a nice font. That all counts with me, since I love physical books.
The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World, by Robin Wall Kimmerer, has at its heart a sweet story about sharing berries and the implications that simple act has for humanity and the planet.
It can beautify the world like a rainbow over an industrial complex.
Kimmerer shares stories about how “gift economies” can work, and how beneficial it can be to share what you have with others. Much draws from her experiences as a Native American, as well as other sources.
I like how it’s possible to implement the practices found in this book right here and right now, but most important is the idea that we can share not only our bounty but our practice of reciprocity and abundance. We can do it and encourage others! That’s reciprocity!
I’m sharing my sunrise with you!
It’s a nice contrast from having your goal be to hoard wealth. I have already shared the book, and hope to pass it on again. It would be perfect for a Little Free Library!
No complaints about yesterday, which was the first whole day I got to spend with Lee on this trip. Make that few complaints, since sometimes the negativity slips under my skin and needles me, but I’m sure my stuff needles him, too.
Lee in the woods with the camera.
I did the usual walking and birding, getting a new lifer, the Blackpoll Warbler. I’m racking up warblers on this trip. We had lunch at the Greek restaurant here in Hilton Head, where we both raved about the red grapes so much that the server took a picture of the bag for us so we can look for them. If you see these, try them! Going on and on about fruit makes me feel elderly.
Very sweet and juicy.
We went to the Newhall Audubon Preserve after that, with the Big Lens. Lee got really excellent pictures of some very active Black Vultures.
Vultures are not ugly to us.
There was also a pretty Gray Catbird that posed for us, and lots of birds to listen to. Here are all the birds I got photos of, in no good order.
Gray CatbirdCardinalDowny WoodpeckerInjured Great Egret near the condoCarolina ChickadeeOsprey, with fishSeagull yogaBirds of the day
I spent my time looking for fungi, insects, weird galls, and whatever could up my total on my final day of the City Nature Challenge. I did well, with over 300 sightings, which would have won my group at home if I’d been at home. On the other hand, maybe I wouldn’t have seen so many organisms (I probably would have; Milam County is more diverse, it turns out). But it was FUN, and that’s what counts.
oak gallA moth lives in there.Blue CorporalTiny insects make this.Life takes over the condo.Wild white indigo
Now, about these elderly ramblings I promised in the title of this post. I’ve been watching a lot of television shows about elderly people in the past few weeks (also watched all of Only Murders in the Building a while back). Matlock’s heroine is 75 years old. Grace and Frankie are in their seventies, too. And yesterday we started watching A Man on the Inside, where Ted Danson also plays someone who’s at least 70. It makes sense to have more television and movies about the elderly, since the demographics of the US are skewing older. And I like the fact that they don’t try to make them look too young (even Jane Fonda) and they talk about old people issues, like vaginal dryness.
Look at me! I’m old and well rounded.
I’ve always been uncomfortable with our (increasingly weirder and scarier) society’s focus on youth. I think my parents did a good job of modeling being comfortable in your skin, however saggy it might be, and I’ve followed along after some years of hair dyeing that didn’t produce anything remotely natural. No wonder I switched to Overtone’s bright colors.
My current hair looks like pampas grass in many ways.
In addition to accepting how they look, it’s fun to see how vibrant and active the elderly folks are in these shows, especially their senses of humor and willingness to try new things. We all know that not all people of a certain age are perky and active, so I appreciated that A Man on the Inside had a character with memory loss, who they treated with respect while addressing issues typical for people dealing with that.
She sparkled like a sparkleberry.
I don’t spend all my time watching television, though my recent discovery of streaming has upped my ability to actually enjoy it, and I’ve been meeting a lot of older people on this trip. It’s been fun to learn about how they negotiate their changing lives, incomes, and dreams. Traveling just seems to make people more open and friendly, though, so I’m probably seeing their good sides. For example, yesterday at lunch, we had a great chat with a couple who are going to the Grand Canyon to celebrate his 60th birthday (they saw Lee’s t-shirt). We shared all we did in Sedona last year and wished them well. Total strangers. That was fun.
CornflowerBorageBlack-eyed SusansCalifornia poppiesAnnual toadflaxBeggarticks (native)A selection of wild and cultivated plants in the gorgeous flower garden (with fruit trees) behind the Greek restaurant. Someone has a green thumb.
And we are probably having more fun now that we’re older than we did when we were first married. There is lots of time for conversation and exploration, without quite so many annoying things you just have to do. Like I heard on the television last night, yeah, things hurt, but you just deal with it, because the benefits of being elderly are worth it, at least for many of us.
People sometimes look at me like I have two heads when I tell them I go to places far away from the ranch all by myself for weeks at a time. Plus, my spouse if fine with it. Why, why why?
And why put this colorful ginger (I think) flower here? It’s pretty.
Guilty as charged.
A quick answer is that we are both hermits (hence the blog title) and enjoy time alone. That’s true, but not really why I do it. One of my traits is that I tend to take the whole “Pisces” thing to many levels (I find some of the personality aspects of astrology helpful, but no, I don’t base my decisions on it). Most aspects of my personality have two distinct and often contradictory aspects. For example, I enjoy dressing in a gender-neutral fashion, but I have those long fancy fingernails and slap flowers on most of my shirts.
That goes along with how I always come out borderline on tests of introversion versus extroversion. I’m one way sometimes, and the other when the situation changes. And I crave alone time but have never lived alone. Ever. People I’ve broken up with tend to hang out with me until someone new arrives. And when I had two houses for a few years, because I was still working in Austin, I had my friend Anita in the Austin houses.
It’s the Austin house (Bobcat Lair) showing lovely dark rain clouds. Ah.
My point is that I found it odd that I insisted on having a companion wherever I lived. Was I incapable of living alone? I tested that by traveling to these condos alone. (Note that I’m not camping in the wilderness; I still want to feel safe.) And what I’ve found is that I have a hard time coming up with a daily routine without someone else to build the routine around. My first few trips it felt very strange deciding for myself what to do, where to go, what to eat, how to entertain myself, without having to negotiate it with someone else. I was uneasy making decisions with no input.
I decided all by myself to pick up thistle seeds and watch them blow around, to make more thistles.
This week I’ve realized that I’m totally comfortable alone. I don’t need a routine, because one evolves naturally. I get up, dress, make coffee, write in my journal…etc. and it becomes a routine. And the silence is glorious. If there are sounds, they’re my choice. Now that I know I can do it, maybe I don’t need to be alone for parts of my travel so much. Still, Lee hates to be away from home for long, so this might continue.
I’m sure he’s not as fascinated by pelicans as I am.
With that musing out of the way, I’ll hit the highlights of my solo day in Hilton Head yesterday. I’m making the most out of having no car by exploring all the nooks and crannies I can walk to. There were no raptor sightings, but I did get startled by unexpectedly encountering a Great Blue Heron in a little pond. The herons here are much more accustomed to people than the ones at home, who fly off if they detect me anywhere near them.
Howdy!
Otherwise, I did another walk on the Prayer Trail, with so many pretty warblers, Painted Buntings, and Great Crested Flycatchers. I even came across a new life bird, the Wood Thrush, who looks a lot like a Hermit Thrush but sounds different.
Tree with many burlsI can’t get over how tall the ancient trees are.This is a fungus that grows on pines. Dyer’s Polypore (Phaeolus schweinitzii)Only the Tufted Titmice felt like posing today – ooh, blurryTitmouse collecting nest materialsIt’s hard work
I then found a trail in the woods next to the Prayer Trail. It had signs on either end admonishing folks not to ride their motorbikes on it. As far as I was concerned, that meant it was perfectly fine to walk the trail. Nothing said, “no trespassing.” So, I went on it.
Warning sign
What fun that was! This was a much less cleared trail through similar virgin woods (well, it IS the same woods) to the other one. I saw many lizards and skinks (not skunks, as autocorrect changed my Facebook caption to), and some gorgeous trees. I felt like an explorer.
Woodsy!
Later in the day, after a delicious veggie flatbread at the bar, I walked down the beach again to see what shore birds were around. I was delighted to find some Royal Terns among the gulls. They are beautiful in flight, but I find them quite comical on the ground. Their crowns look like old man hats, and the way they were walking around chatting with each other just made me smile.
So cute.GosspingLoudly gossipingI’m not listening (ring-billed gull)
Later I saw some doing mating flights, which was fun to watch, as well as very loud.
Making their approach.
Otherwise, I spent much of the walk dodging dozens of Cannonball Jellies that had washed up. I was glad not to be barefoot, as there were also many sharp-looking pieces of crabs strewn around. I guess the birds only like the middles of crabs.
When I came home, I gleefully read my book and watched whatever television show I cared to watch (this time it was Matlock). I have no doubt that by the time Lee gets here, I’ll be happy to have a companion to plan around, however.
The Hermits' Rest 