Pat Bean's blog

April 27, 2026 by Pat Bean

The Joy of Being Able to Read

*A somewhat likeness of Chigger, the cat that owned me for 18 years. —* Art by Pat Bean

Aging My Way

Polish poet Wisława Szymborska, who was awarded a Nobel Prize in Literature, wrote a poem called Possibilities in which she noted her preferences. I love it.

Among her preferences were cats, Dickens to Dostoyevsky, the absurdity of writing poems to the absurdity of not writing poems, Grimms’ fairy tales to the newspapers’ front pages, and the hell of chaos to the hell of order.

It’s a long poem, and by the end of it I felt as if I had come to know Wislawa, and if she had been a friend I would have grieved her death in 2012. Now I just feel a sense of loss because I didn’t know her.

The poem, meanwhile, inspired me to think about my own preferences. I prefer dogs to cats, although I do not dislike the latter, and was owned by one named Chigger for 18 years.

Fantasy, mystery and memoir are my favorite reading matter, although I also read just about anything except true crime and horror. I get enough of those genres from today’s newspapers. I could add TV news but I don’t listen to it. I read my realities.

As for writing, to not do so for me would be about the same as not breathing.

Finally, as much as I try to order my days, which Dorothy Gilman (author of the Mrs. Pollifax series which I adore) says can’t be done like a table setting, I quickly become bored without surprises. I love spur of the moment activities – and disorder seems to follow me around.

It seems Wislawa and I have a lot in common, which of course I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t come across her poem in The Marginalian, Maria Popova’s newsletter. (newsletter@themarginalian.org). The joy I get from reading, especially these days when I’m nesting more than adventuring, is a magnificent treasure.

So, what are you reading?

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion Scamp. She is an avid reader whose mind is always asking questions (many of which are unanswerable), an enthusiastic birder, staff writer for Story Circle Network’s Journal, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), and is always searching for life’s silver lining.

Posted in aging, Art, Books, Journeys, Writing | Tagged Dorothy Gilman, The Marginalian | Leave a Comment »

Road Trips: Two Ways

April 12, 2026 by Pat Bean

***Blythe Roberson and I both pondered the petroglyphs at Capitol Reef National Park in Southern Utah. It’s comforting knowing someone else and I shared America’s beauty and wonders.***

Aging My Way

Most days I am content. I have a comfortable place to live, friends and loved ones who care about me, I have a great dog, and I’m rich enough to buy a book I want when I want it – and that’s rich enough for me.

But there are other days when I want more, like reasons why at nearly 87 I’m still here on this planet. It’s a nagging concern that is probably shared by others who have left behind a life of chaotic activity for one of having the luxury of unscheduled time.

I thought about these things this morning when I was reading Blythe’s Roberson’s book, America the Beautiful. A comedian, humor writer and author, Blythe says she snapped the day Mary Oliver died, suddenly realizing she needed to do the “great American road trip.” And so it was that two months later, at just 28, Blythe quit her job and was on the road in her dad’s old Prius. –

I immediately identified with Blythe, although in my case, while I knew when I was 10 years old that I had to take that great American road trip, it took me 55 years instead of just two months to accomplish the dream. In my defense, Blythe’s adventures only lasted a few months while mine lasted nine years – and I did it comfortably in a gutsy, new 21-foot RV.

But a high priority on both Blythe and my agendas for the road trip was visiting National Parks, where we thought we would see the best of America – and we did. To give structure to her trip, Blythe decided to earn junior ranger badges from each park she visited. I chose the task of seeing as many new bird species as I possible could.

The need for structure to my days continues to be a nagging concern, which I answer with birdwatching, reading books like Blythe’s that stimulate my little gray cells, and writing, such as this blog, personal journaling and an occasional paid writing assignment. I also have a few other creative activities along with social interactions with friends and loved ones who continue to enrich my life.

Such things are necessary to keep me from obsessing too much about the daily news, and other disturbing minutia like saggy boobs, wrinkled skin and thinning hair. Thankfully, the years have repaid the insults with the wisdom to take the days, and enjoy and survive them, as they come – and be grateful for them.

Posted in aging, Books, Favorite Places, Journeys, road trip, Writing | Tagged Blythe Roberson | 1 Comment »

Days Past Live on in My Memories

March 17, 2026 by Pat Bean

***One of the last photos taken of my Mom. We bundled her up so she could sit around a campfire with us at Zion. — Photo by Pat Bean***

Aging My Way

“Memory… is the diary that we all carry about with us.” – Oscar Wilde

Twenty-eight years ago, on a Friday the 13^th, I held my mother’s hand as she took her last breath. Four days later, on a St. Patrick’s Day – like today – a small memorial for family and friends was held for her. Only her ashes, contained in a decorative urn and taking a prominent place in the room, were there with us.

Reliving that day in my mind, I see all of us present, at one time or another, throwing a kiss toward that urn. The symbolic action was started by the first speaker, one of her grandsons, who threw the kiss toward her contained ashes after ending his remarks.

My mother had green eyes and green was her favorite color, and in her honor, I wore a bright green blazer with a green skirt for the memorial. The memory of that day remains fresh in my mind, perhaps more colorful and fresher than it appeared to me when it was happening because back then my emotions were in charge of my brain.

Such, in the same way it seems to me, are so many other moments collected during my eight plus decades of life on this planet.

I’ll see a photo of an osprey, and suddenly I’m back beside the Snake River below Jackson Hole once again watching an osprey snatch a fish out of the water and fly up to a tall tree. It’s almost as if I can see details that I missed when it was happening.

Thankfully, most of the vivid memories that pop into my head are good ones. But even remembering my mother’s death and memorial isn’t so bad. I still miss her, but seeing her again, even if it’s only in my mind, gives me a sense of comfort. It’s like she has stopped in for a short visit.

Posted in aging, Journeys, Uncategorized | Tagged memories, moms | Leave a Comment »

A Two-Pronged History

February 25, 2026 by Pat Bean

Time and histories merge, just as dripping paint does. — Art by Pat Bean

Aging My Way

Behind every person is a history, or so Shakespeare said. That was a thought I wrote in my journal six years ago, and which I came across again this morning when I was searching for something to write about. Of course it got me wondering about my own history.

My past, however, has to be seen through the years I’ve lived through, a time in history that has seen changes so fantastic that it just about blows my mind. When I began my life in 1939, neighborhood home phone lines were shared with neighbors and long-distance phone calls cost a mint.

I know because after they left home in the 1970s and 80s, my children, who by the way were raised without seat belts, had permission to call home collect at any time. I knew they were finally grown up and independent when they called and paid the charges themselves. Meanwhile, I’m glad such long-distance phone fees went the way of the dinosaurs because my family is now wide-spread across the country, and I love getting phone calls from them.

Then there is the particular memory I have of a geometry teacher – I remember him well because he told the class on day one that he didn’t believe girls belonged in his class because they would never need such higher math. On another day, he declared humans could never reach the moon because it was simply too far away.

I recalled those words with glee when, 14 years later, a man walked on the moon, an event I watched around a black and white television with my five kids. It was only much later that I learned it was female computer experts who helped make that historic event possible.

And here I should note that Loretta Lynn’s We’ve Come a Long Way Baby and Helen Reddy’s I Am Woman Here Me Roar are part of my history, as is Gloria Steinem’s Ms Magazine.

I find it interesting where my thoughts have led me this morning. Although my personal history has to be multifaceted, as is the world’s, my first thoughts were of being a mother and my battle as a woman for equality.

I’m okay with that.

Posted in aging, Art, Journeys | Tagged Equality, personal history | 3 Comments »

Perhaps Thinking is Overrated

February 20, 2026 by Pat Bean

***So cat, what are you thinking? — Art by Pat Bean***

Aging My Way

I didn’t have time to think, to mull things over and come to conclusions about what was going on in my life, until I was almost 40. It startled me at that point to realize I really didn’t know who the entity occupying my body was.

I had five kids by the time I was 25, at 27, I became a working mom, and at some point after that, a single mom with the sole responsibility of keeping the wolf from blowing down the door.

I’m not complaining as I loved both my kids and my job, and had – and still have – a happy heart that was able to enjoy life’s special moments as they happened. I just didn’t have time to contemplate how it all fit into my life.

And so it continued even after I retired. I sold my home, bought a RV, and drove around the country for nine years. I spent that time simply enjoying the beauty and specialness of all that I was seeing – and even wrote a book about it.

But now, at 86, with a body slowed after years of doing, my brain has plenty of time to think, to connect the dots my life has created. It’s something that often keeps me lying awake until the early hours of the morning. What with all the changes that have happened, and which continue happening daily, it’s not an easy task.

I think about how the world I grew up in is crumbling about me. I think about my grandchildren and great-grandchildren and hope they are making more sense of the world than I’m currently doing – and whether they will grow up to be independent adults who will be kind and care for the people around them as well as the planet we live on. Afterall, that’s all I really wanted for my own children.

I think about what I am going to cook for dinner. I think about the cost of veterinarian care because of how much I love my dog. I worry that I might lose the cottonwood tree in my yard because its roots are doing a number on my fence and the sidewalk on the other side of the fence. I love that cottonwood.

And so, the night passes until finally around 2 a.m. even my brain must shut down.

I’m beginning to come to the conclusion that this thinking stuff is overrated. Maybe I was lucky to have so much going on in my life that I didn’t have time to do too much of it. I certainly slept better.

Posted in aging, Art, Journeys | 3 Comments »

The Magic of Starlings

February 10, 2026 by Pat Bean

***European Starling — Wikimedia Photo***

Aging My Way

The European starling is one of the birds I quickly learned to identify after I became addicted to bird watching back in 1999 – when I was a mere 60-year-old. It’s a black bird with a distinctive yellow bill and fairly common.

I saw starlings often when I lived in Northern Utah, and when I drove around the country for nine years in a small RV, and currently here in Tucson where I settled down in 2013.

The birds first arrived in this country in the late 19^th century when a flock of them were released in New York’s Central Park. Many died, but the ones that lived thrived and can now be seen in every U.S. state including Alaska and Hawaii.

The birds are both loved and hated, the latter because they are an invasive creature and they often flock in huge numbers. But count me as a lover

There was nothing really special about these birds, or so I thought until I had a close encounter with them during a field trip to Great Salt Lake’s Antelope Island. They aren’t just black. When the sun shines on them they glisten with a rainbow of color, so much so that when I saw them in this light, I was amazed.

And their voices can mimic just about anything, from a squeaky bike to a melodious tune, one that once had me looking around a grocery store parking lot to find the singer. I was shocked when I realized it was just what most of us consider an ordinary starling.

So, next time you see one – and you might only have to step out your front door to do that – you might want to take a closer look.

Bean Pat: The Life Affirming Magic of Birds by Charlie Bingham. It was while reading this book this morning that got me thinking about my starling sightings.

Posted in aging, Birds, Books, Journeys | Tagged Antelope Island, Charlie Bingham, European starlings | 1 Comment »

The Rightness of Wrongness

February 4, 2026 by Pat Bean

Hey! Am I in the wrong place? — Art by Pat Bean

“It infuriates me to be wrong when I know I’m right.” – Moliere

Aging My Way

I’m reading Being Wrong by Kathryn Schulz, who after talking about the benefits of being right, extolled the positive aspects of being wrong, which at some point in our lives we all are whether we want to admit it or not.

As I read, I thought about my friend Jean who just this morning pointed out, gleefully I might note, that I was wrong about how I interpreted some email instructions I had received. She heard otherwise.

Because we are friends, it was good-natured banter that in one form or another has continued ever since we became friends over 12 years ago. We both always want to be right.

But while I was thinking about this quite recent episode, I thought back to a time nearly 60 years ago when being wrong was one of the best things happening in my life.

I had squeezed through a back door into working for a small Texas daily newspaper because I wanted to be a reporter. And what I knew about becoming that was absolutely nothing.

Thankfully for me, the newsroom was always short-staffed, and so I got an opportunity to do a bit of everything. The problem was that while I was told what to do, no one had the time, or patience, to tell me how to do it – that is until I did it wrong.

Then, everyone had time to tell me. And that was how I gained enough journalism experience to have a successful career that I loved for 37 years.

I agree with Kathryn. Being wrong isn’t always wrong.

Posted in aging, Art, Books, Journeys | Tagged Being Wrong, Kathryn Schulz | 2 Comments »

Black-Eyed Peas for Luck

January 2, 2026 by Pat Bean

***A Dish of Hoppin’ John could bring you good luck in 2026 if you believe in luck***

“I think we consider too much the good luck of the early bird and not enough the bad luck of the early worm.” – Franklin D. Roosevelt

Southerners, especially old broads like me, eat black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day. It’s a tradition I picked up from my grandmother way back in the 1940s. But this year I didn’t feel like cooking this pale, kidney-shaped bean with its black eye.

And, since life is short, I forgave myself for not making Hoppin’ John, a dish I usually make with black-eyed peas, onion, ham hock and rice.

But it was with delight that I accepted a late invitation to join my granddaughter’s wife Dawn to go down to Shooters for a drink and some black-eyed peas. The drink was my usual Jack and Coke and the free black-eyed peas I ate was an annual tradition at the local bar.

Eating black-eyed peas to begin a new year is believed to bring one good luck, and it’s been part of Southern tradition now for over three centuries after being brought to America by West African slaves.

While I didn’t count the peas I ate, I’m sure they weren’t the required 365 that some say are needed to bring good luck for every day of a new year. Even so, I’m optimistic that luck will favor me in 2026.

And with that thought in mind, I slept very well last night. Of course, the J&C might have helped.

Posted in aging, Journeys | Tagged Black-eyed peas, New Year's Day | 6 Comments »

Making and Breaking New Year’s Resolutions

January 1, 2026 by Pat Bean

Happy New Year to All. — Art by Pat Bean

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings without the words – and never stops at all.” – Emily Dickinson

It’s the day of resolutions. I make them and I break them. The problem is that I always think I can carefully set my days the same way I carefully set a dinner table when guests are expected

There are rules for how one places the silverware, which side of the plate the glass goes and so forth. And it always seems to me my day should go in a similar rhythm: Make the bed, make coffee, write for an hour, walk the dog, clean the kitchen, play with my art, and so on, with free time allotted at the end of the assigned tasks.

But by the third, or even the second day, I don’t want to make the bed, or I don’t feel like doing my art, and I definitely don’t want to write. And so, the pattern is broken and all my resolutions have flown out the window,

After a lifetime, well 86 years of it, you would think I would learn. But no, each New Year, I again have a list of resolutions, sometimes as long as my arm.

Looking back on my life, I thankfully realize that my work, my passions and even my hobby took my tendency to bore so quickly in stride. As a newspaper reporter, no two days were ever alike, rafting down a river was never the same, and as for my hobby of birding, each day is still always a surprise.

But here it is again. A New Year. And once again I find myself making resolutions. But this year I’ll be happy if I can just keep them for four days. That will be record breaking.

Posted in aging, Art, Birds, Journeys, Writing | Tagged Happy New Year, resolutions | 1 Comment »

One Sentence Says Much

December 8, 2025 by Pat Bean

“In this trembling moment … is it still possible to face the gathering darkness, and say to the physical earth, and to all its creatures, including ourselves, fiercely and without embarrassment, I love you, and to embrace the burning world.” — Barry Lopez

I love these words by Barry Lopez, a writer whose essays and books are in tune with my wonder and love of nature. I came across them while doing a writing exercise designed to interrupt my recent bout of writer’s block.

The exercise was to simply open any book, to any page, and write down a sentence found there, then to reflect on it. I chose the book The Best American Essays 2021, which was sitting on the top of a stack of books to be read.

Finding Lopez’s sentence, which was much longer than shared above, during my first attempt at doing the exercise feels like fate is playing a game with me. It feels too perfect a sentence for someone like me at this time in my life.

I badly want to believe that better days, for America, for the whole world in fact, still lie ahead for my great-grandchildren and their children. I want to believe that while I’ve been forced to accept that the world isn’t fair, that what goes around still comes around.

And I need to believe that there is still a purpose in life for this old abroad who can no longer climb a mountain or paddle a boat down a river. Yes Barry, I can still tell the earth, and its multitude of creatures – well except maybe a couple – that I do love you. Meanwhile, such a sentence as yours heightens my faith that the written word can help bring change about.

It means that as long as I can stream words together that foster love and acceptance of those who are different, my life still does have purpose.

Posted in aging, Art, Books | Tagged Best American Essays 2021 | Leave a Comment »

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“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters.” — Ursula K. Le Guin

Pat Bean is a writer, avid birder, hiker and passionate nature observer with wanderlust in her soul. She spent nine years living and traveling in a small RV. She now lives in Tucson with Scamp, a rescue who was supposed to be a Schnauzer mix but turned out to be a Siberian Husky-Shih Tzu mix who is as stubborn as his owner, her granddaughter says. She was also a journalist for 37 years, and can be reached at patbean@msn.com
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