Old folks have the best stories to tell

It's so easy for all of us, me included, to look at old people and not see past the thinning grey hair, the saggy, baggy, wrinkled skin to the person inside.

I live in an old-folks home, of sorts. Not a place with facilities or care or meals, merely an apartment building for people over 55. One of our residents will be celebrating her 100th birthday this Friday, and while many people rely upon aides to come in during the week to help with bathing, laundry, cleaning, whatever is needed, an equal number are self-sufficient, still have cars and travel as they wish.

Up until a couple of weeks ago we had three married couples living here, then one of the men died. This was a couple who everyone here respected and admired, especially the wife, who tended her husband both at home and in his frequent hospital and/or nursing home visits, where she would stay with him night and day for the duration. The devotion was astounding to watch these past few years, but while I knew who they were and spoke to them a couple of times when I'd encounter them, I didn't really know them.

A couple of days after I learned that he'd died I was on another floor to meet with a couple of friends, who happened to be in the hallway speaking with the widow when I arrived, so I joined them. We learned that they were married for 67 years. I don't know what they did for the rest of their lives, but that day I also learned that they had been lighthouse keepers at one of Oregon's many lighthouses for 17 years, many years ago.

Lots of people here have interesting stories, though I only know a fraction of them. One used to train racehorses (trotting/pacing horses that pulled sulkys, not thoroughbreds that race with jockeys), again, many years ago in another life. One is an artist and poet and all around free-spirit who lived in Mexico much of her life and has only 'retired' in recent years due to a health issue. One went to school and became a car mechanic at an advanced age and at one time many years ago raced cars.

Looking at them -- us -- people see the sags and bags and droops and wrinkles, and never look for or think about the interesting lives behind them. I'm guilty, too, but my horizons are certainly opening up.

Life in old age

Hello, world. Is anybody still out there?

Yes, it's been almost a year since I last posted my nonsense here, but lately I've found that my need to communicate has been somewhat renewed and instead of using the blog, I've bombarded a friend (a patient friend).

For some unknown reason, life has seemed a lot better in recent months. I've had more energy, despite still not sleeping well, thus that need to communicate, to use my brain for something other than crossword puzzles. Granted, this blog has never been a major brain event -- quite the opposite, most of the time.

So what have I been up to?

Genealogy: I've solved two long-time 'brick walls' using DNA. Plus I've confirmed all the info I already had on all of my family lines using DNA. Since for me the fun of genealogy is the hunt, the puzzle, playing the detective and searching for clues, I find that is now less time-consuming and less interesting. Something has to fill that gap, and the TV sure doesn't cut it.

Hiking: I've had a real urge to get into the forest again, but while hiking alone has never been a problem for me, nowadays I find that I just want company, if I can find it. Had the bright idea a few days ago to approach a few people here who I thought might enjoy some local hiking (and be physically able). I posted notes on their doors, then headed to the southside to a trail I hiked a lot when I lived down there.  As was always a problem with this trail, it was heavily used even early on a Monday morning, and populated with unleashed dogs, runners, and mountain bikes. None of these were rude, but I've certainly encountered rudeness in the past and I hate sharing trails with mountain bikes. After 27 minutes of slow uphill progress, I decided I didn't need to reach the top and turned around. I'm really not in shape for hills. Yet.

Yesterday one of my neighbors went with me to another trail in the same park, one where mountain bikes are not allowed and that is not as heavily traveled. I had to find the highway trailhead, since I always walked there from home, but once that was solved we were on our way. The trailhead sign said 1.3 miles to the next road. Hilly miles. Bike tire tread marks on the trail, but didn't meet any. Met a few other hikers and a large group of local firemen (and let's face it ladies, firemen tend to be real eye candy -- young and fit and cute) who were practicing rescue on a hillside. We reached the next trailhead not long afterward, and contrary to Monday, having company made it seem easier. This trail is also more rolling hills, not straight up like the first one. I was quite stiff and sore after Monday, and am sure I will feel yesterday's to some extent. But this is good. My body needs it. And so does my mind.

Tomorrow, walking the nearby ponds with a new resident who physically can't walk fast or for long trips, but who seems really interesting. I'm happy to have company for local walks, too, as they get really boring when I'm alone so I rarely do them.

Garden: still growing some delish foodstuffs in my 4x4 raised box. Lots of garlic last winter. Lots of salad veg spring and early summer. Experimented for the first time with cabbage, broccoli and brussels sprouts this fall. One head of cabbage, which was utterly delicious. So far one large head of broccoli with three others that should be ready in the next week. and two stalks of brussels sprouts, immature and yet to be sampled. I was so pleased with the cabbage that I bought more seedlings of a winter variety, plus some rainbow chard. Yesterday planted 4 garlic cloves, as garlic is a great pest repellant for the entire bed.

So -- my need to communicate this morning is now scratched. Later!