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The Murder of Crows

Posted in aging, Birds, journalism, Journeys, Writing, tagged murder of crows on January 31, 2024| 3 Comments »

Aging My Way

I’m reading A Murder of Crows by Sarah Yarwood-Lovett. It’s a cozy mystery with an ecologist as the protagonist. With all the many, many books out there to choose from, I was attracted to this one simply because of the title. You see, I once was a member of a small group that called itself The Murder of Crows.

The group membership numbered a half dozen women or so, all well past the age innocence, with marriage, children, divorces and life experiences in our varied backgrounds.

We met once a week for lunch and got together occasionally for other activities and events. Our conversations were filled with interesting chatter, raucous laughter, irreverent remarks and commentary about politics and world events. We were a liberal group with four journalists, in various capacities, among us.

I was in my early 40s when I was introduced to the group by a younger female colleague at the newspaper where I had just been hired. She didn’t stick around long, however, as she soon departed to a job in another state. But by that time, I was firmly ensconced in the group.

We got our name from one of the women’s teenage sons who referred to us as a bunch of old crows. Instead of being insulted we started calling ourselves The Murder of Crows, which is actually the proper name for a group of crows.

We stayed together for the next 20 years or so before moves and deaths begin taking their toll. Only three members were left behind when I retired in 2004, sold my home and took off to tour America in a small RV. I kept in touch, but while I was traveling around another member died, and then after I settled in Tucson in 2013, one more death occurred.

That’s what happens to friends when they reach their eighth decades of life. I got to visit with the other lone Murder of Crows’ member when I visited my old hometown last September. And I got a nice long snail mail letter from her a couple of weeks ago.

While I hope there will be many more visits and letters, I know it’s important that I treat each treasured get-together and letter as if it were the last – because it just might be.

Now I think I will stop here and go write that return letter to one of the last two still-standing Murder of Crows’ members. It’s important to me.

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, an enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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Here’s What I Know

Posted in aging, Art, Birds, Journeys, silver linings, Writing on January 17, 2024| 4 Comments »

Aging My Way

When things got tough in my younger years, I did what most of us do. I struggled on. Then, during one of the rougher patches, I came to an amazing discovery. Despite all the chaos that was happening around and to me, there was still a deep happiness inside me that had nothing to do with my present world.

Ever since that day, I’ve felt blessed. And as I thought about it this morning, I realized that if I ever needed that flaming spark of inner light to keep going, it is now.

While all the drama and craziness that’s been in my past life has faded away, I’ve found myself in a new kind of shit. Sorry if that word offends, but I can’t think of a better description to sum up what’s happening to my body after 84 years of living in it.

Bum knee, bum shoulder, thinning skin, thinning hair, sagging boobs, actually sagging everything. Yet, I still greet each morning with zest, and with thankfulness that I’ve made it this far in life, and also for the benefits of aging.

No longer are little things a matter of life or death, I have more time to read and learn, and stillness in my life for reflection. I finally realize my worth and that I am loved, two things that escaped my desperate search for them when I was younger.

But best of all, I’m learning to live in the moment. I enjoy each bird that visits my yard, each hug from friends and loved ones, each cuddle with my dog Scamp, and every sunrise, which is visible from my warm, cozy bed on a cold Tucson morning like today.

I’m just thankful to still be alive. This I know.

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That’s Not What I Meant

Posted in aging, Art, Birds, Journeys, Writing, tagged AI on January 9, 2024| 4 Comments »

Some hummingbirds can flap their wings up to 80 times a second. — Art by Pat Bean

Aging My Way

With all this talk being thrown around about artificial intelligence, better known simply as AI, I’ve come to realize one of its uses has been both the savior and bane of my life for 40 years or more. I’m talking about Spell Check.

In the early years, it simply noted misspelled words; today it goes so far as to question context and meaning of words. I like it when it catches my typo gremlins, but not when it automatically changes a word I truly meant, sometimes even refusing to let me change it back.

This mostly happens when I text — and the most frequent irritation is when Spell Check changes Dawn to David. And just yesterday, I typed that I was back safely after taking my dog Scamp for a walk and that he had pooed. AI didn’t like pooed, so changed it to posed.

In 2020, Google wrote of its Spell Check Program: “The tool uses a deep neural net with 680 million parameters to better understand the context of misspelled words. It runs in 3 milliseconds — faster than one flap of a hummingbird’s wings.”

Now I don’t understand some of that, but I do know that some hummingbirds flap their wings 80 times a second. Then again, I don’t understand how that is possible either.

In my imagination, I see Spell Check and Lewis Carroll, the author of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, coming head-to-head in a face-off.

Carroll, whose work was published in the 1800s, used such meaningless words as brillig, frumious, slythy, mimsy, burble, chortle, galumph, snark, frabjous, and burble – and meant them. Some of those words can now be found in dictionaries, like Jabberwocky, the name of a nonsensical poem by Carrol. Today, Jabberwocky, according to an Oxford Dictionary, means invented or meaningless language.

Will Spell Check block the creation of new words from joining our language – or will there be another author like Carroll to fight and win the head-to-head battle against the mighty AI tool?

This curious writer wants to know. Otherwise, I just want Spell Check to continue catching my typo gremlins, but to acknowledge I meant what I said.

That’s not asking too much. Is it?

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One Is Not Like the Other

Posted in aging, Birds, Books, Journeys, Travel, tagged Petra, Susan Orlean on November 13, 2023| 1 Comment »

***The Monastery in Petra, a place that has fascinated me ever since I got a sneak peek at it in an Indiana Jones movie. Photo by Diego Delso***

Aging My Way

I do a lot of armchair traveling these days, looking at photos of and reading about places, which at 84, I know I will probably never be able to visit in person. It’s an enjoyable hobby that continues to feed my insatiable curiosity about the world and the people who live in it.

What’s lacking, however, is the feeling of accomplishment one gets from actually walking through an unknown cityscape, standing atop a mountain you’ve just climbed, or learning to communicate with a local whose language you do not understand. There is value in sweat and effort.

Susan Orlean pointed this out in a story about the remains of Petra, the cave-like capital of 4^th century Nabateans, being made into a virtual reality model. Wrote Susan: “Technology makes it easier to see the world almost as it is, but sometimes the hardest parts are what make travel memorable.”

As I read Susan’s words in The Best Women’s Travel Writing: Volume 12, I thought about my recent bird-watching walk around a small lake here in Tucson. It was a flat trail, just a half-mile in length, and I had to use my rollator as a steading hand and a place to sit every once in a while, but the feeling of accomplishment I felt at the end was significant – so much better than watching bird cams, which is also something I do regularly.

One is not like the other.

Which is why, because I can’t physically do all the things I want to do, or financially afford to travel to all the places I still want to see, I’m thankful for modern-age technology. If nothing else, the years have taught me to be flexible. It’s one of the ways I can continue to experience life zestfully, if not gracefully.

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, an enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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The Yellow-Headed Blackbird

Posted in aging, Art, Birds, Journeys, tagged Brewer's Blackbird, Tucson's Lakeside Park, Yellow-Headed Blackbird on October 23, 2023| Leave a Comment »

Aging My Way

I saw six yellow-headed blackbirds last week. They were flying around Tucson’s Lakeside Park with a flock of Brewer’s blackbirds that they were bullying, shoving the smaller birds around whenever a tiny morsel of something to eat was found.

I guess some birds can be as unkind as some humans.

Nevertheless, watching these easily identified birds brought back memories of the last time I had seen them. It was during a trip to Antelope Island in Utah’s Great Salt Lake where they usually hung out among cattails and reeds at water’s edge.

It was after one of those earlier sightings that I painted the bird seen above.

While the blackbirds’ yellow feathers stole the show as they flew among the Brewer’s at Lakeside Park last week, the smaller birds also had some show-stopping qualities. You just had to look a little harder.

First there was the Brewer’s yellow eyes, and then the iridescent sheen of metallic purple and blue that make the bird’s black feathers seem to sparkle in the sunlight. People don’t always give these birds the respect they deserve because they’re such a common sight. They are often that little black bird you see in a parking lot or alongside a road.

And as humans, we too often value the rare over the common.

Meanwhile, if you go looking for either of these two birds, I’ve only described the males. The females of both species are brown. You can see some yellow on the head and neck of the blackbird, but the Brewer’s eyes are dark.

I usually have to see a male Brewer’s first before I can identify the female.

And happy birding to all.

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OK! So, Do Something Else

Posted in aging, Art, Birds, Journeys, Writing on July 4, 2023| 9 Comments »

***Sitting under a large old tree in the shade is what appeals to me today. — Art by Pat Bean***

Aging My Way

My granddaughter Shanna and her wife Dawn are cleaning my gutters. I came in from watching them because I felt useless – and because I got antsy about their safety climbing up and down the ladder.

But I knew it would be annoying to tell them to be careful, because at their age I was the one climbing the ladders and putting myself in even more precarious positions. It’s what you do before you reach your eighth decade. And I found people who told me to be careful, or especially “You shouldn’t do that,” quite irritating.

Meanwhile, there are a lot more things than cleaning my gutters that I can no longer do, or have to do differently, than when I was younger.

I use my rollator to bring in groceries and take out trash because carrying anything more than a few pounds hurts my back. I also use the rollator to walk my canine companion Scamp. I use a pair of pliers to open water and soda bottles because my hands aren’t up to the task any more. Household chores are accomplished a small bit at a time here and there during the day with occasional help to lift something heavy or move a piece of furniture.

Some years back, I took up birding when my white-water rafting and tennis activities seemed a bit too much for my years. And over time, I eased down my 20-mile hikes to five-mile hikes — until my knees said no more. My birding these days is mostly done from a shady place to sit to watch and listen.

The thing is, I’ve found ways and things to replace what the years have taken away from me. I make use of my time to read and write more, and to piddle with my watercolors. I also take online classes and try to learn something new every day, even if it’s just the meaning of a new word – today it was polymathy, which means having encyclopedic knowledge.

The plus side of aging is that the years have also taken away all the angst, insecurities and unnecessary drama of my younger days. Most days I feel as if I’m living my best days.

It’s good to be an old broad, especially when you have loved ones like Shanna and Dawn to clean your gutters.

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Peels and Books

Posted in aging, Art, Birds, Books, Journeys, Writing, tagged book banning, Jose Andres, Vegetables Unleashed on June 6, 2023| 4 Comments »

***Tucson’s saguaros are now in bloom — and the Gila Woodpeckers love it. — Art by Pat Bean***

Aging My Way

I shared some potato salad I had made with my friend Jean the other day, and she asked: “Why did you peel the potatoes? “Because I don’t like potato peels,” I replied. To which she said, “I do.”

I thought about this yesterday while reading Vegetables Unleashed, a cookbook by Chef Jose Andres who talked about vegetable peels, clearly stating that he always peeled his vegetables, even tomatoes.

“If the skins don’t bother you, you can skip that, but I’m not sure we can be friends,” he wrote. The comment, I suspect, was written as a joke. But then it reminded me of something I had read the week before in a post about books. Yes, I know. My over-active brain is always trying to connect dots.

Anyway, the earlier comment, was “I don’t think I could be friends with anybody who doesn’t read books.”

I thought that was a bit self-absorbed, even though I realized on reading it that my conversations with other book readers were always more fun, especially when discovering that the two of us liked and had read many of the same books.

Andres’ comment, meanwhile, was way over the top. I mean my friendship with Jean, who is also a chef, isn’t the least bit unhinged because one of us likes peels and one of us doesn’t.

Differences are what makes the world go round, or so I’ve been told – and believe. So as long as you don’t make me eat potato peels, or ban me from reading whatever I like… Oops, now my over-active brain is thinking about people who want to ban books.

Now those are people I’m sure I could never be friends with.

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But: I Was Never Silent

Posted in aging, Art, Birds, Journeys, Writing on May 1, 2023| 4 Comments »

Aging My Way

My generation lies between what Tom Brokaw calls the Greatest Generation — those who lived through the Great Depression and then went on to fight in World War II – and the Boomers (1946-64).

Born in 1939, I belong to the Silent Generation, one the Encyclopedia Britannica says consists of: “cautious conformists who sought stability, worked hard, and thrived by not rocking the boat in an era of booming postwar economic prosperity.” This generation also had a lower birth rate than the generation before or after, it was noted.

I think we Silents were also influenced by the Great Depression because it was our parents who lived through it. I was raised by a mother who could stretch a penny to the moon and back, and a bit of it rubbed off onto me. By sometimes following her example, and also setting spending priorities, I was able over the years to follow a few of my dreams to completion.

But I’ve never been silent. And while my generation had fewer offspring overall, I had five children. That was awkward when all my work colleagues once were sprouting zero population growth pamphlets. Looking around at what we’re doing to Mother Earth today, I’ve shifted over to their way of thinking – and my adult grandkids seem to agree.

Time changes everything is an understatement.

Today, some politicians – racist ones in my opinion – are calling for families to have 10 or more kids. Ouch. I feel sorry for their poor mothers. Frankly, I wish we would all just mingle together more so that everyone would end up a golden brown.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to understand what the Generation Xers (1965-79), Xenials (1976-85), Gen Y/Millennials (1980-94) and Generation Z (1995-2012) are all about. Yes, I had to do a bit of research to name them all.

Today, looking at my grand and great kids – who range in age from four to mid-40s — I think they’re doing all right. I know for one thing; they don’t put up with all the crap we Silents, who didn’t want to rock the boat, did. And that’s a good thing.

But I would like them to be more respectful when I tell them I had to walk 10 miles to school in a snow storm.

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A Writer’s Dream

Posted in aging, Birds, Books, Journeys, Travels With Maggie, tagged Ed Buryn on April 5, 2023| Leave a Comment »

Aging My Way

“Sooner or later, all vagabonds discover that something strange happens to them en route. They become aware of having wandered into a subtle network of coincidence and serendipity that eludes explanation. On Tiptoe, magic enters.” – Ed Buryn.

After coming across the above quote, I was interested in buying Buryn’s book, Vagabonding in the USA: A Guide to Independent Travel, which was published in 1980. I thought it would be fun to compare what he had seen and written about to my travels across North America in a small RV from 2004-2013 — and what I wrote about it in my book Travels with Maggie, which was published in 2017.

But I only found one copy of Ed’s book available on the internet, and it was a used paperback selling for $85. Dang it! That’s a bit too expensive for a retiree living on a fixed income. I then checked my local library, but also struck out. It didn’t have a copy.

Anyone have a copy of Ed’s book they would like to exchange for a copy of my Travels with Maggie? I know my paperback only sells on Amazon for $5.99, but maybe someday it might be worth more. Who knows? It happened to Ed’s book.

Meanwhile, I find it kinda nice to have such a dream.

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High Five to Differences

Posted in aging, Art, Birds, Journeys, Writing on March 27, 2023| 6 Comments »

***The Meadowlark and the Chukar, different but both still awesome. — Art by Pat Bean***

Aging My Way

It is the part of us that is not like the others that is the best of us.

I came across these words recently, and it set my brain cells to pondering. I mentally started listing my own oddities, going back to my childhood when I was way too loud. I know that for a fact because I was always being told to lower my voice.

And being told to be quiet and shut up didn’t stop at home, where my mother and grandmother often told me that children are to be seen and not heard. It was frequently echoed by my teachers and classmates.

Except instead of being cute — I was skinny and freckle-faced with stringy hair — I can see myself, when young, as being very like Hermione in the Harry Potter stories: a know-it-all and always the first student to raise a hand when a question was asked.

My classmates nicknamed me Cootie-Brain, which followed me around from first to fourth grade, finally ending when my family moved and I went to a new school.

But the label Cootie-Brain was so hurtful to me as a child that I couldn’t speak it as an adult until I was in my 40s. And it wasn’t until I could finally write the word down and talk about it that the wounds it had inflicted on my soul could heal.

While the years toned me down, I also came to the realization that my true friends accepted me just as I was, because the loudness still returns when I get excited or enthusiastic about something. But now at 83, I’m happy I can still get excited. Maybe if I had tamped down my enthusiastic loudness when I was young, I wouldn’t have this wonderful asset today.

There are many ways I’ve always felt different from others, but the years, along with life and books, have taught me that we are all different in our own ways. And isn’t that wonderful?

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