In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Re-springing Your Step.”
I hooked up my Casita travel trailer when I got sick of the cold and snow at my vacation cottage in Michigan last April and waved goodbye to my husband. I hit the road without any thought other than heading south and getting warm.
Although I spent some time berating myself for being pig-headed, stubborn and maybe a little selfish and careless, I didn’t beat myself up for too long because travel energizes me and makes me happy. I was feeling mighty fine until I got to northern Florida and realized I was too tired to safely drive any further and I was still four hours away from my home, my children and granddaughter.
I had to camp by myself for the first time ever and it was Easter Eve. I found a camp site at the Stephen Foster Memorial State Park and prepared myself for a drizzly kind of night alone. Since I’d been flying by the seat of my pants and hadn’t stocked the camper, I dined on bagged popcorn and a bottle of Cabernet. I was feeling a little sorry for myself, but had a good night’s sleep … the Cabernet, you think?
I woke at daybreak to the sound of bells. When I stepped outside I found the drizzle had become a light mist blurring the towering pines and oaks that dwarfed me. The Spanish moss hung from the trees like an old woman’s prayer shawl and the bells became music welcoming Easter morning. I made a quick cup of coffee and sat enchanted on the wet picnic table bench.
Stephen Foster State Park, Carillon Tower
The carillon tower was playing hymns and Stephen Foster’s famous melodies. As the day brightened and the mist dissolved, the birds joined the carillon and I felt as if I was sitting in a cathedral and the choir was singing just for me. I thought my heart would break with the beauty. I felt alive and energized, healthy in body and spirit. So, I said a prayer of gratitude and thanksgiving and sent silent wishes to my loved ones for a wonderful, meaningful Easter day.
Way Down Upon the Suwannee River
A carillon is a musical instrument consisting of at least 23 cast bronze bells that are precisely tuned and arranged in chromatic progression so that music in any key can be played. Unlike other types of bells, carillon bells are fixed in a frame—the bells do not move.
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Bird Song and Carillon Bells on Easter Morning
I’m Supposed To Be Retired So Why Am I So Busy?
Once again I am running behind on my Blogging 101 assignments. I spent three hours catching up yesterday and can’t figure out how I’m behind already.
Got up this morning and made the coffee
Fed the cat
Went for a 2-mile walk along the Peace River
Had coffee with my husband
Reviewed schedules & to-do lists with husband
Made breakfast & cleaned the kitchen
Got my hair cut
Paid the bills
Completed a customer’s quilt on my long arm machine
Cocktail hour(s)
No pix of my visit to the doctor, preparing dinner and cleaning the kitchen (again), phone calls with quilting customers, kids & other business. But I did spend time on Blogging 101, making comments and I worked on my header photos, got my Blogging 101 badge correctly posted and other odds & ends. Oh, I also watched a couple of past episodes of “Game of Thrones”.
As Lewis Carroll said, “The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.” Geez, I know how that poor White Rabbit felt!
To You from Me
Because I have trouble expressing myself when we are face to face, I’m writing you this letter wishing that you cared enough to follow my blog. Although I know that I’m an intelligent, sensitive, intuitive woman somehow you manage to fluster me and I feel that you twist my words or over-analyze them until the meaning is lost. I’ve often thought I could express myself better in writing, but hand-written letters are no more and you are always too busy to read my blogs.
I want you to know the free-wheeling, happy, spontaneous person I am and not the daily drudge who necessarily takes care of home and family. I wish you could join me in the simple thoughts that give me pleasure … dreams and daydreams and flights of fancy … instead of the heavy, monumental, heart-wrenching, world-changing events that you constantly want to obsess over and discuss.
Did you ever really know me? Do you care to know me? My older self is reverting to my younger self back in the days when I was adventurous, excited, exciting and full of curiosity. Don’t you want to join me?
Read my blog!
I Met Angels on Lookout Mountain
It was snowing last April when we arrived at our cottage in Michigan after driving our new 17-foot Casita travel trailer from Florida. I was expecting lilics and cherry blossoms and I only lasted three snowy days before I told my husband I was heading back to Florida. He was to fly home whenever he was ready and I took off on my first solo adventure towing my little Casita behind me. My only fear was that I would have to back it up since I had never practiced driving in reverse with the camper. But I figured it was a straight shot south on I-75 from Michigan to Florida, what could go wrong?
The snow followed me to Chattanooga, Tennessee and I spent the night in a Comfort Inn since it was too cold to set up the trailer on a campsite. The morning dawned bright and sunny so I decided it was a perfect day to drive up Lookout Mountain to visit Ruby Falls, an underground waterfall, before continuing to the Chickamauga Battle site to do a little Civil War exploring. I planned to reach Atlanta before nightfall.
Lookout Mountain
The drive to Lookout Mountain was easy but I must have taken a wrong turn because as I drove up the mountain higher and higher, the road got narrower and the houses scarcer. I figured what went up must come down so I would just drive to the top and then drive down the other side and eventually find my way to Ruby Falls. I figured wrong. The pitted one lane road ended abruptly with a sheer drop to infinity on the right and a steep rock wall on the left. There were a couple of shacks that looked abandoned. I was too nervous being a woman alone on an isolated road in the middle of nowhere to approach either of the dwellings. I started sweating and praying since the only way down was in reverse.
I tried backing up inch by inch; the same six inches in reverse and then forward again because the trailer and the car kept going in opposite directions. Alone on a 10 foot wide road at the top of a mountain was not the time to practice backing up a travel trailer. My face and neck were flushed with tension, I was practically sweating blood and I was jibbering. Every time I checked the road on my right I was looking at a drop off down to the treetops below. I was scared to move forward or back. I was alternately cussing and praying. I eventually t-boned the car and the trailer and was good and truly stuck with my trailer about 12 inches from infinity. For one of the few times in my 60+ years, I honestly did not know what to do. I didn’t know who to call. I didn’t know where I was. So, I just sat in the car to get my heart rate under control and when my breathing stabilized, after two puffs from my rescue inhaler, I decided to lock everything up and hike back down the road to civilization. I wasn’t worried about leaving my car and camper since I was literally at the end of the road and I hadn’t seen a soul since I started up the road 30 minutes before. I grabbed my purse, locked the car door and turned around to begin my hike.
Standing behind my camper were eight children where there had been no one before. They were a diverse group; Anglo, Latino, black and Asian carrying rakes and shovels and hoes. They appeared to be as astonished by me as I was by them. “Where did you come from?” I asked. They pointed down the road. “Do any of you know how to back up a trailer?” They shook their heads which was understandable since they appeared to be 12-14 year olds. They told me they were with the Lookout Mountain Conservancy and maybe their counselor could help me. Around the bend came a sweet looking woman who assured me she could get me turned around since she was a FedEx driver. She handed her hedge trimmers to one of the kids, got into my SUV and with the help of the kids, we maneuvered the camper in reverse to a small dirt turnoff where she got me headed in the right direction. She told me the teens were inner-city kids who volunteered once a month to help keep the brush and trees from overgrowing the roadway and I was just lucky it was their volunteer day.
I don’t know why or how those children were at the top of that mountain at that exact time on that day but I know they were angels. And, I will pass their good work forward so I, too, can be an angel to someone in need.
Dream Girls Over 60 Unite … Read My Blog!
Blogging 101, assignment 4, Your Dream Reader
I hope my blogs will reach mid-century girls – women over the age of 60 who may be wondering about the next phase of their lives. Perhaps they’ve worked all their lives and it’s time for them to retire or maybe they’ve been stay-at-home moms and it’s time for their husbands to retire. Regardless, they are beginning a new lifestyle and it can be intimidating not only from a financial and health perspective but also considering spending 24/7 with spouses or significant others. It can be a trial, a challenge, or tremendously funny.
There are other issues such as wrinkles (face & thigh, butt & neck), weight gain, hormones, hair loss, fashion challenges, health & medical issues for both spouses, and any number of other exciting things to look forward to. There’s a myriad of things to be unhappy or worry about but, as we all know, with age comes wisdom and, more importantly, freedom!
Freedom to go commando, to not wear makeup, to pull your hair back into a ponytail or not color it for months. Freedom to jump in your car, stop at an ATM & withdraw as much cash as you can and hit the road until the money runs out. Freedom to let someone else worry about paying the bills (especially since you’ve withdrawn all the money), solve the kids’ and grandkids’ problems, cook the meals, do the grocery shopping, do the laundry. Freedom to take the time to get in shape, eat right, be as glamorous or as “natural” as you want.
So, I would like to reach my 60+ age friends out there and help them see the bright side, the adventures, the challenges, the humor that awaits them as they travel through the highways & byways of the rest of their lives.
Girls, remember, worrying will make you ugly! We’ve waited all our lives to have fun, so let’s do it!
Either way, it’s all good!
New Topics, New Blogs I’m Following
Assignment #3 encouraged us to learn how to find new topics in the Reader and to follow five new blogs. After countless hours looking at hundreds of wonderful blogs, I narrowed todays choices down to these five. It was hard.
- Daily Encouragement – http://www.hughnemets.com/ A daily devotional because who couldn’t use the encouragement?
- Food and Recipes – http://everydaypaleo.com/ Delicious whole food recipes for a healthy lifestyle
- Humor – http://listfulthinking.org/ I need a good chuckle every day
- Quilting & Textile Art – http://sewkatiedid.wordpress.com/ A brilliant quilter and designer to motivate me
- Poetry and Writing – http://1950schildhood.wordpress.com/ Poems and short stories of a small town boy growing up in the mid 20th century. It’s my husband’s blog so what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t follow his blog?
Who Am I? I am (not) Jean Valjean 25601
Now bring me prisoner 24601
Your time is up
And your parole’s begun
You know what that means.
Yes, it means I’m free. (Les Miserables)
After almost 50 years in shackles, I gained my freedom when I retired 14 months ago. I’m not saying that I didn’t enjoy my career but the bottom line is that I spent those years doing what I needed to do, not what I wanted to do. Unlike those fortunate enough to turn their avocations into well-paid careers, I evolved into a business administrator spending my days solving technical and personnel issues, budgeting, writing, interacting with the public, etc. while my heart and mind were yearning to travel, daydream, read and create.
In anticipation of my freedom I purchased a 17-foot Casita travel trailer and a Kia Sorrento to tow it. Over the next several months I learned how to hook it up, drive it and set it up at camp sites by myself. I have driven cross country (north to south)and camped solo – not bad for a scaredy cat 60-something woman who always thought camping meant staying at a cheap motel, who’s afraid of the dark and worms.
I want every day for the rest of my life to contain at least one adventure to share on my blog … planning a trip, trying a new recipe or a new product, solving a problem, or sharing a new book. I want to encourage other women to break through their comfort levels, step out of their boxes, overcome their fears, declare their independence and, most importantly, fulfill their dreams.
It’s not easy to do whatever you want after a lifetime of fulfilling the needs of everyone else as a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, an employee, a grandmother, a friend; to release some of those responsibilities and begin living a few of your own dreams. Feels kind of selfish at first but I recovered quickly.
Now that I’m unrestrained, unchained, unrestricted it’s hard to prioritize all the things I want to do. I’ve taken a yoga class, Zumba, traveled to New Orleans, visited Ruby Falls and the Chickamauga battle field. I’ve investigated an old cemetery with my brother, camped in Key West by myself, sewn quilts and crocheted afghans, taken a 1200 mile road trip with my sister, and probably read over 90 books in the past 14 months. I’ve painted part of my lanai, removed the old fans and light fixtures and will begin working on the cracks in the pool deck so I can renovate with bright Mexican colors. I’ve started an eBay business, continued my long-arm quilting business and, of course, started blogging.
Indulgent and selfish? You bet! And I want to share it all on this blog. I’m looking forward to participating in Word Press’ “Blogging 101”.
Things You Should Never Do After the Age of 50 – Agree or Disagree?
I just read an article in the AARP magazine written by Jacquelyn Mitchard, “11 Things You Should Never Do Again After 50”. Hmmph. I’m quite a bit over 50 and I think Ms Mitchard may be a bit of a spoilsport. What do you think?
Parkour – running,climbing, jumping or leaping over obstacles; swing, vault, roll or walk on hands. Agree. I haven’t done that since the age of six and back then it was called playing.
Jello Shots – Disagree. Who doesn’t like Jello Shots? As long as you don’t miss your mouth. Cherry jello doesn’t come out of clothing, carpeting or upholstery.
Karaoke after Jello Shots – Disagree. How else would I have the chutzpah to get on stage with my husband and sing “Satisfaction” while rocking my Mick Jagger moves? Except if my children were in the audience … nah, they’re our biggest fans.
Can’t Get No Satisfaction
Take me by the tongue
And I’ll know you
Kiss me ’til you’re drunk
And I’ll show you
All the moves like Jagger
I’ve got the moves like Jagger
I’ve got the moves like Jagger
Try to break a plank with your head – Agree! I never tried that before I turned 50.
Crowd surfing at a rock concert – Agree, not at a rock concert, But I would like to crowd surf when I finish my karaoke performance as long as everyone has their hands raised and have joined me in several rounds of jello shots so I know they like me.
Collect owls made of shells – Agree. The only collection on my shelves is dust and that’s easily removed with a leaf blower.
Boasting about certain things– Agree. Some people boast about the number of Visa stamps in their passports or the number of 000’s in their checkbook balance. I only boast about the number of 000’s on my VISA account balance.
Talking about your role in bringing your kids up right – Disagree. After 18 hair-raising years, I’m going to brag, boast, and talk about how I brought my kids up right whenever I want and you’ll damn well listen to me. They were only allowed to spit in the toilet not at each other, they had to fight outside and were not allowed to use lethal weapons, and were only allowed to say “dirty words” in their closets with the door closed. Although it was disconcerting to hear, “shit, damn, poop, crap” emanating from a 5-year old’s closet, I think these are child-raising tips that new parents would appreciate.
Talking about your role in getting your kid into an Ivy League college – Agree. My kids didn’t go to Ivy League colleges – does Florida State and Stetson count? All four of them are successful so who gives a flip as long as they didn’t have to move back home.
Talking about your role in fueling the rumor that Paul was dead in the 1960’s – Disagree. How else are my grandkids going to learn about history? Please don’t let me hear you say, “Paul who?”
Single space your holiday letters – Agree. I don’t send holiday letters and friends my age wouldn’t be able to read single spaced correspondence anyway. Besides, they’ve already heard ad nauseum about how I raised my kids right and I already posted the pix of me crowd surfing at Chubbyz Bar on Facebook.
Does It Look Like He Has a Christmas Tree Growing Out His Butt?
Does it look like a Christmas tree growing out his butt?
My daughter Heidi decided her family should cut down their own perfect Christmas tree. It would be a fun adventure and would show 4-year old Max where Christmas trees come from. So the day after Thanksgiving we drove from Atlanta to Sleepy Hollow Farm in Powder Springs, GA to find the ideal tree.
It was a beautiful late autumn day, great weather to ramble around the farm searching for the perfect tree. We were given a saw when we arrived at the farm and told we could cut down any tree with a price tag. Max got a little spooked because from his (short) perspective it was a huge forest. I was documenting the entire enterprise for posterity and to share with family and friends on Facebook. While the tree was being wrapped and tied to the car I posted my pix to FB.
Little boy lost in the woods?
The perfect tree!
Paul Bunyan and his assistant
We worked up an appetite so the kids took me to their favorite Mexican restaurant in Atlanta. Little Max calls it the “Cheese Taco Man” since he only eats cheese quesadillas but calls them tacos. The sign out front of the “Bone Garden Cantina” explains Max’s name for the restaurant.
The Bone Garden Cantina (Cheese Taco Man)
Above the bar
My son-in-law, Chris, is a professional photographer so after ordering my first ever empanada for me, he pulled out his cell phone to check his messages. He looked at me with a grin and said, “Nice composition, Jodi, real nice. It looks like I just farted a Christmas tree!” He showed my FB post with the pix around the table. Heidi and Kurt coughed up their tortilla chips and even Max laughed because what 4-year old isn’t going to think “farting a Christmas tree” is funny? So everyone had a laugh at my expense and we had a wonderful meal at a great restaurant with terrific artwork. A real Day of the Dead ambiance.
Authentic Mexican food & Day of the Dead décor
Later we congratulated ourselves on providing another positive learning experience for Max. Now he knows where Christmas trees come from. Out of his dad’s butt!
I still think it’s a really nice picture. Do you think it looks like Chris farted a Christmas tree?
Adventures
Wander Woman 
Welcome to My Neighborhood
Blogging University 101, Assignment 8: Get out your calling cards, and leave comments on at least four blogs that you’ve never commented on before.
I read a charming post by Ace who seems to be gentleman describing how to treat a lady. How’s that for unusual in this modern world? The daily writing and photography of Marilyn Armstrong (Serendipity – Searching for Intelligent Life on Earth) is always delightful and thought provoking. Today’s blog was about struggling with the realities of retirement. Stuff My Dog Taught Me (and stuff I’m figuring out on my own), is always good for a smile with a humorous twist on real life situations. Then there’s The Creek, a slightly off kilter, quirky look at life while living on a creek with a couple of dogs. OK, OK – one more. For quilters, there’s Tim Latimer’s blog just in case you want to feel totally inadequate, I mean totally motivated.
There appears to be something for everyone and WordPress Reader makes it so easy to stay in touch. I always enjoy meeting new people … make a comment so we can get to know each other, neighbor.
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