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.
I didn’t write last night because I was being a self-indulgent vacationer. After a truly excellent walk to the lagoon area near where I’m staying on Hilton Head Island, I had an indulgent lunch of eggs Benedict and grits, then spent the rest of the day indulging in various media. I don’t think I’ve ever done this before. It felt weird, mostly because I sat in one place for so long. I’ll get to that momentarily.
I would like to know the story of this poor pizza I found lying on the ground. It’s well cooked, all right.
The birding walk was most excellent. I saw and heard all kinds of birds I don’t usually run into, including a pair of Eastern Kingbirds, an American Redstart, and an Ovenbird. The trees were alive, both by the lagoon and at the nearby park, where there were also many turtles and a little alligator that really got kids excited. The only downside was that, even though I wore jeans and closed-toe shoes, I got all bit up by mosquitoes. I now need a Benadryl, which will probably put me to sleep.
Great Egret taking offCalmer egretTufted TitmouseGreen HeronI think a Common Gallinule.Anhinga doing its thing.Eastern KingbirdYoung alligatorVery green anoleTurtle confab
The highlight of the walk was the payoff for standing quietly in an alcove at the end of Lagoon Road and watching all the birds. I was thrilled to see a Barred Owl fly right in front of me and land nearby. As I was trying to see where it was, a second Barred Owl also flew by! I figured I’d stay and see if they made any calls that Merlin could hear. I also got quite distracted by an interesting caterpillar that crawled onto my pants. This thing has many bells and whistles on it.
It’s a Fir Tussock moth, Orgyia detrita. I read the Wikipedia article on Tussock moths, and it told me those white tufts are the tussocks. I was also wise not to touch it. Those long hairs sting. Also, in the moths, the male is large and attractive, and the female is very small. Read the article!
I guess that moth really excited me because I didn’t notice the owls moving. As I was about to leave, I turned to look once more, and there was one of the owls, sitting close enough to me that even in the dark shadow, I could get a reasonable photo, once he or she moved their head. Interestingly, there was a crow sitting close by, glaring at it. As I’ve learned at home, crows aren’t very fond of owls.
This is the closest I’ve ever been to an owl. The ones at home hide.
I got to show the owl to a couple of folks walking down the path, which was rewarding. I headed back to the Coligny shopping area, where I truly enjoyed that breakfast, all by myself. I also had a bloody Mary. I’m trying to learn to enjoy this retirement thing.
I was impressed that my meal matched my nails.
I came back to my condo and thought I’d watch another episode of the Netflix series, The Residence, which many people had recommended to me because the detective in the series is a birder. I also discovered it is set in the White House, and as a fan of The West Wing, I wanted to see how they treated it. Well, many hours later, I finished all eight episodes, the last of which was 1.5 hours. Some of the humor is very subtle, which I loved, and the birding part is okay (though the bird names were not always accurate). But I LOVED the heroine, a large Black woman who is a genius. It’s about time we had more protagonists who are different from the norm. Most of the characters were fun. I recommend this if you have a Netflix subscription. By the way, I figured out how to stream from my phone all by myself. Maybe I am the technology whiz people keep accusing me of being.
The place I watched television from. Look, I bought healthy bananas in addition to Goldfish crackers.
I figured that I was already watching television, so I made myself a delicious Publix meal for one, got out my temperature blanket, and caught up with all the sitcoms I secretly like to watch. Lee is not fond of sitcoms, and I can see why. They are often predictable and dumb (especially poor Reba on Happy’s Place, which I doubt gets renewed – edit, Wikipedia says it did). I got that one out of the way and well into St. Denis Medical (which also got renewed) by the time I finished eating and crocheting.
Spiderwort, the Ohio kind that’s more common than the Texas ones.
I’m not totally mindless sitcom fodder, though. I did read the Eve book I talked about in my being judgy post until I fell asleep. Learning about the history of human development from a female point of view is fascinating. Much of it I didn’t know about, though having read the book about the senses a while back, I did know how male and female vision differ. I’ll write a full book report when I’ve digested all 500 pages, but now it’s time to go fight the mosquitoes and listen to more birds.
I always think of my mom when I see bottlebrush trees. She thought they were so cool, but had to explain what exactly a bottlebrush was to us as kids.
I’ve been called judgmental before, and that’s one of the labels that really stings. And, well, often labels that sting hurt because there’s some truth to them. I now cringe when I think of how my little in group talked about others in high school and college. What privileged elitists we were, or more likely, we wanted to be (remembering some of our non-elite backgrounds).
A fortnight lily Dietes bicolor – native to South Africa
Being judgmental does nothing but make me look bad, so I’ve spent a lot of years trying to un-learn that trait. I can say now that I deeply regret acting this way, and if anyone I was ever unkind to reads this, know I’m ashamed.
Squirrel would also be ashamed but he’s too busy eating.
Does that mean I’m little miss non-judgy now? I wish. Nope, I’m slightly-less-judgy old bat now. I know because I had an Easter lesson in humility today.
I am, by the way, back in Hilton Head, hoping all the horses are ok.
What’s that in the sky? ANOTHER blimp! I’m quite the blimp spotter! (Golf tournament was here)
Once I was settled in, talked to my stepsister, and ate a sandwich, I decided my back hurt from all that plane riding and sprinting from the end of Terminal A to the end of Terminal E in Charlotte. So, I went down to the hot tub.
There was a group of elderly people sitting nearby (definition: people older than me). Also as I arrived what appeared to be a distinguished older man with a much younger woman getting into the pool and acting all mushy and giggly. I thought the woman looked like a stereotypical trophy wife. I was feeling all superior and judgmental, floating around with my green hippie hair in a granny bun.
Gulls say I’m not superior.
I was so wrong. The couple came into the hot tub to warm up from the chilly pool. I found out they were there honoring her mother who had just died, who owned the condo membership. We had a lovely conversation, and talked about how weird families get after a death…blah blah.
Can I go hide with the pelicans?
As the woman (who turned out not to be significantly younger than her husband, just with good hair and makeup) left I heard her say how nice I’d been. That warmed my heart and at the same time drove home the old saying of not to judge a book by its cover.
I deserve to step on a jellyfish and get stung. Oh, wait, then I’d be cruel for hurting an innocent sea creature. Never mind.
I’m chastened. Geez! One reason I enjoy traveling is to get to know people who are different from me. I can’t do that if I’m putting them down in my head.
These volunteer pansies watched me silently, with judgy pansy faces.
Lesson learned, or at least reinforced. I hope to see these folks again this week, since they will be here.
Other highlights of the day were talking to a nice young man on the plane, getting the same friendly Gullah taxi driver I had last time, being remembered by two staff members, and getting a great book at the Austin airport. It’s called Eve and is a history of women’s bodies. It’s some of the best science writing for lay folks I’ve read in a while. The footnotes are funny sometimes but there are 100 pages of endnotes and references for the scholars.
This morning, I did my chores and realized it was a bad day for birding—too windy. So I came inside to work on Master Naturalist projects.
Windblown Engelmann Daisy.
At 12:50 I realized I’d worked as much as I would have for paid employment. That’s always been the way I am. I make up a job if I don’t have one. In college I was always typing something for someone. In grad school I knitted. When I was supposed to be a mother at home I created a web design empire and nonprofit online community for other mothers (with a team).
I needed to chill out and look at birds more, even back then. Red-tailed Hawk.
Now I’m retired, so I either write all day or do social media for my current nonprofit. I fixed up the Wild Wings Bird Sanctuary site for those four hours this morning. Time flies when you’re typing, as I discovered in my teens.
Time also flies when you’re identifying native plants. Texas verbena.
I guess I now see how all those older Master Naturalist folks get thousands of volunteer hours: they have time. It keeps me out of trouble and out of the horses’ faces for at least part of the day, too.
They watched me take this photo of the “best” wildflowers this spring. It’s been a bad year.
Probably that’s for the best, since I keep getting stepped on (Mabel in a tizzy over distractions) or walked into fences (Apache learning to move his butt). Tomorrow I have to corral them all again for their annual shots. We will see who steps on whom.
It will be a privilege to be alive in ten years. Most of my life I fully expected to be healthy and hearty at 77 years of age, like many of my friends are now.
I hope to enjoy scenery like this for many years.
I expected to be in my home, enjoying my pets and nature, traveling at least a bit to see new sights or visit friends. That’s the same as now.
Simple pleasures are all I desire.
As an example, we drove today to a place near Medina, Texas, to see the cabin Lee’s friend Matt has been working on for many years. It was fun. I got to hear a new kind of vireo and a Golden-Cheeked Warbler, found only here this time of year. What a privilege to be free to do this.
Cabin view
I’m concerned, though, that in a decade I won’t have a source of income or health care, though I’ve paid into Social Security and Medicare my whole working life. If that’s the case, things may look very different in ten years. Who knows? Things could also be better, too.
They have an old horse here.
Let’s hope we all still get to enjoy our friends and family a decade from now. In the meantime, treasure what you have. That’s my plan.
I admit it. I have read many books by Brené Brown more than once. I think people need different kinds of support at different times in their lives. When I needed to drag my self esteem out of the gutter and stop telling myself I kind things about myself, her stories and ideas were there to push me toward healing. I’m forever grateful that she writes in ways that reach me.
Just a picture to note that Cattle Egrets have arrived.
Her writing taught me I wasn’t alone and I wasn’t awful. What a gift!
Here’s a gift. My favorite wildflower, Texas Baby Blue Eyes.
I’ve mentioned before that I must have read Black Beauty, by Anna Sewell, dozens of times as a child. It shaped by love of horses and all animals and set me on a path of kindness to our animal friends.
I do try to be kind.
Speaking of my animal friends, Apache and I had a hard lesson today. He is not fond at all of Tarrin’s gate obstacle. I got a good lesson in patience (though I did lose my patience once). He learned he has to trust me when I ask him to do things, and I learned I still have work to do on quietly repeating instructions and not showing my frustration.
It’s like the dung beetle. You just keep pushing until you get there. No need to get upset.
He’s such a good guy most of the time that I know Apache has his reasons for disliking the gate. We will work through it! After all, Brené Brown taught me that being imperfect is how we grow.
The Hermits' Rest 