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Just for No Reason

“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”  — Maria Robinson

Fly free and high in the New Year. --  Quick sketch of bald eagle doing just that by Pat Bean

Fly free and high in the New Year. — Quick sketch of bald eagle doing just that by Pat Bean

I Call Horse Manure

I’m not sure what is in the air, but all this past week – during which I was on hiatus from writing this blog – I kept running across quotes that in essence said that everything happens for a reason.

A page from my sketchbook, which I hope to use more during 2014.

A page from my sketchbook, which I hope to use more during 2014.

Put bull and my one and only cuss word together and that’s what I say to that idea.

Not everything happens for a reason. The good, the bad, the beautiful and the horribly ugly things happen randomly to everyone.  While there may be causes, no baby dies of crib death for a reason, no beloved pet gets run over by a vehicle for a reason, and no one dies in a nature  disaster for a reason.

We can add reason into the equation by learning and growing from the experiences when life boosts us up, or knocks us down, but there is no reason why things happen in this chaotic world in which we live.

In essence, we are not what happens to us, we are what we make of what happens to us.

What do you think?

Bean’s Pat:  The Philosophy of Old Age: http://tinyurl.com/k63qnas I thought this was worth sharing. Even you youngsters might enjoy it.

Connections

The Palo Verde tree and Mission Cactus growing in Tucson's Tono Chul Park have made a connection. Without the support of the tree, the cactus could never have grown so large, while the large pads of the cactus help capture rain water that gives the tree extra moisture. -- Photo by Pat Bean

The Palo Verde tree and Mission Cactus growing in Tucson’s Tono Chul Park have made a connection. Without the support of the tree, the cactus could never have grown so large, while the large pads of the cactus help capture rain water that gives the tree extra moisture. — Photo by Pat Bean

            “When you feel a connection, a gut connection, a heart connection, it’s a very special thing.” Alfre Woodard

Looking in all the Right Places

            There is something special, as Alfre said, about making a connection. She was talking about that love/lust thing, which thankfully I’ve experienced a few times in my life. While these have all bloomed and faded, they’ve left behind memories, both good, and bad, that put under the microscope help me define who I am.

One tree, or two trees? Either way, there is a connection between them. I do love trees. -- Photo by Pat Bean

One tree, or two trees? Either way, there is a connection between them. I do love trees. — Photo by Pat Bean

Now, in my seventh decade, I find connections that define who I am in different ways. Mostly they come through travel, books and family relationships, the latter of which, when I think hard enough about them, leave me understanding that I was at times better than I gave myself credit for, but also sometimes not as good as I thought I was.

It’s a complicated thing, and sometimes I simply decide to give up thinking about whether I was a good, strong mother, or a weak, spineless one. .

It’s much more rewarding and fascinating to come across things in my travels that connect to my life, like a Chinaberry tree that reminded me of the many hours I spent up in one in  my grandmother’s back yard – until the day I discovered  a rattlesnake sunning on the rock I used to boost myself up into the branches. The snake scurried away as fast as I did. It was probably as afraid of me as I was of it, but I never climbed that tree again.

The perfect setting for making a connection with another human, I thought when I saw these chairs sitting in a Flagstaff, Arizona, RV park.  -- Photo by Pat Bean

The perfect setting for making a connection with another human, I thought when I saw these chairs sitting in a Flagstaff, Arizona, RV park. — Photo by Pat Bean

All this came back to as I watched a white-breasted nuthatch in a Chinaberry tree growing next to where I was camping in my RV, Gypsy Lee. Time, I realized, had taught me to fear the snake when it was where I would place my foot, but not to fear it when it wasn’t there. It was a well-learned lesson that gave me many years of freedom in the outdoors and the courage to face the unknown unafraid.

Books, meanwhile, let me know that I’m not alone in my odd ways of thinking. I delight when I come across a person in a memoir, or a character in a novel, who sees the world as I do, which is through rose-colored glasses despite accepting the reality that the world is chaotic and often unfair.

These are the kinds of connections I never had time to make when I was younger. I was too busy simply living life. But suddenly I find them fascinating. These connections to my life happen often these days, and they enrich my days. So I have come to search for them – in all the right places.

Bean’s Pat: The Gift of Time http://tinyurl.com/lskfbh4 Tosty Mae makes me laugh. And I loved this blog about unwelcome “connections.”

Giggles and Gratefulness

“I don’t take me seriously. If we get some giggles, I don’t mind.” – Paul McCartney

            “Let us be grateful to people who make us happy. They are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” – Marcel Proust.  

A bouquet of wildflowers from me to you this Saturday morning.  -- Photo by Pat Bean

A bouquet of wildflowers from me to you this Saturday morning. — Photo by Pat Bean

Bean’s Pats

            While catching up on a basket overflowing from e-mail yesterday, a result of not keeping up with it daily during my trip to Texas, I came across these two blogs with videos. They both brought smiles to my face. The first blog’s smiles came with giggles and the second one made my heart fill with joy and gratefulness for this wonderful planet we live on.

The Wondering-Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

So if you have time, take a look.

Jingle Bells – With Goats http://tinyurl.com/m62gjul

What a Wonderful World – With Louis Armstrong http://tinyurl.com/n3pkahz

Have a wonderful Saturday

Tweaking Life

Resolutions are popular because everyone feels they could use a little improvement.” Marilu Henner

This glorious desert sunset welcomed me home to Tucson

This glorious desert sunset welcomed me home to Tucson. — Photo by Pat Bean

New Year’s Resolutions

It’s 5:15 a.m., and the morning after I arrived back home to Tucson from attending my granddaughter’s  Texas A&M graduation — and the first time since I left on the spur-of-the-minute trip that I feel I have a few minutes of time completely to myself.

Me and my granddaughter, Pacee.

Me and my granddaughter, Pacee.

It was as perfect a trip as a trip with my strong personalities-family could be. By that I mean that I had a fantastic time, the hiccups were few, and my granddaughter’s surprised and pleased face when she saw me made all the hassles to get there worthwhile.

I even enjoyed the two-day long drive coming and going, even though on this trip the destination was more important than the journey. I still, as always, love sitting behind the steering wheel of a vehicle and watching the landscape flow by. The road has always felt like home to me.

I got back to Tucson in time to share birthday cake with my son-in-law, Joe, and then I spent the night here at my daughter’s house, choosing to sleep in my RV, Gypsy Lee, which I left behind for the trip. This morning I will return the rental car I drove, and then Gypsy Lee, Pepper and I will drive back to our small apartment home, where I can once again watch, from my bedroom balcony, the Catalina Mountains come to life with the morning sun as I drink my cream-laced coffee

My granddaughter was one of 4,980 students who graduated from Texas A&M on December 13. She's sitting on the front row on the left, fifth from right.  -- Photo by Pat Bean

My granddaughter was one of 4,980 students who graduated from Texas A&M on December 13. She’s sitting on the front row on the left, fifth from right. — Photo by Pat Bean

Waking up while everyone else is asleep is a thing I do often. It’s almost always the best time of any day. This morning, I lay in Gypsy Lee’s bed thinking about the fast approaching New Year. It’s a time when I always make a long list of resolutions – and yes they are usually all broken before the New Year is a week old.

As I thought about the things I want to put on this year’s list, because while I break my resolutions they do stay in my head and I do keep them occasionally, I realized that last year’s resolutions were still good to go – with just a little tweaking.

And that’s the same for my life. This old broad loves her life and could only think of a few tweaks to make it better.

Does this mean I’ve achieved all my goals, or have just relaxed enough to accept myself for who I am?

Well of course I haven’t achieved all my goals, but I do give myself a pat on the back for putting a big dent in them. And yes, I no longer beat up on myself when I’m not constantly in achievement mode.  So I guess it’s a little bit of both.

But mostly I think it is simply because I have come to not just accept, but to love, all my imperfections. So now I just have to decide what tweaks will make 2014 even better.

The Wondering-Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Oh Christmas Tree http://tinyurl.com/mqujzxy I don’t have a Christmas tree this year, although I have put up a few holiday decorations around my apartment. I gave away my huge collection of ornaments when I took to the road in Gypsy Lee. They now hang on my youngest daughter’s tree, and since I’m spending Christmas with her I’ll get to enjoy the memories again this holiday. A lot of the ornaments are travel souvenirs, but my favorites are  simply a few plastic poinsettia blooms, which hung on my first Christmas tree. Money was tight back then, and so that tree was decorated with nothing more than the plastic flowers that I had  separated from a dime-store  bouquet. There have been over 50 Christmases since that day, and the red flowers have seen them all. Meanwhile, enjoy the trees on this blog. I did

Writing and Laughing

            “There are different rules for reading, for thinking, and for talking. Writing blends all three of them.” —  Mason Cooley

Pepper keeps me company when I write. Usually she sits on my feet beneath my desk, but lately she's been scrunching up my new soft throw and keeping an eye on m from my bed. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Pepper keeps me company when I write. Usually she sits on my feet beneath my desk, but lately she’s been scrunching up my new soft throw and keeping an eye on m from my bed. — Photo by Pat Bean

Why Proofreading is Important

I was doing my  tweets for Story Circle Network this morning, and on rereading my 160 characters, I broke into a belly laugh. The tweet was: “One Woman’s Day: The importance of mail in a retirement village has one woman thinking about the future. Read it at: http://tinyurl.com/5tevft5

Well, that’s what it was supposed to say. Instead of mail, I had written male. I wonder if I was thinking about an all-female retirement home.

Every write must have time to stare out the window -- and if you're lucky you'll find something to inspire you. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Every write must have time to stare out the window — and if you’re lucky you’ll find something to inspire you. — Photo by Pat Bean

Thankfully, whatever the cause for the typo, or Freudian slip, it was discovered and corrected before I hit the tweet button. That’s not always been the case.

As a journalist writing on deadline, with too hurried, or too complacent, an editor, I’ve been responsible for some goodies, like leaving the first L out of Public Sale, or more commonly using the word there when I meant their; site when I meant sight; or two when I meant too. Although I know the rule well, I also write its when I mean it’s, and iit’s when I mean its.

I’ve often wondered if there is a disconnect between the brain and the fingers.

What I learned as an editor, of both my own and others’ copy, is that you’ll generally find an error in the last paragraph. That’s because many writers are like me, they’re constantly rereading what they wrote from the first paragraph on – and the last paragraph comes up short on the proofreading.

The best thing for me, if I haven’t procrastinated and have the time, is to let my writing sit for at least an hour and then go back and reread it in its entirety. And if I find too many mistakes, repeat the process. That way the brain is less likely to see what it meant to write and instead see what was actually written

The Wondering-Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Writers need support: A network of people to inspire them, pick them up when they fall down and kick them in the butt when they procrastinate too much. A few years ago, I discovered the best support any female writer could ever have. It’s an international organization for female writers called Story Circle Network, whose focus is to help members tell their stories. The organization will be holding its seventh women’s memoir conference this April 11-13 in Austin. Perhaps you would like to attend. That is why today I’m giving my Bean’s Pat to this Web page, http://www.storycircle.org/Conference/ so you can check it out. I hope to see you there.

Pacee and Peaches

Pacee and Peaches

“Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.” – Sydney Smith

No Regrets Here

My granddaughter, Patricia Colleen Bean, was named after me, but she has always been called Pacee.

She is the ninth of my 17 grandchildren and great-grandchildren, but the only one whom I saw come into this world. I was honored to be in the room with my son and his wife for her birth. That’s because, at the time, I was the only family they had within 1,200 miles.

Very few events in my life can compare with the high I had the day of her birth. One of my greatest pleasures in her early months of life was watching her and my beloved dog, Peaches play together. Peaches, a golden cocker spaniel, would jump into her playpen for the fun event.

Paee at Easter

Pacee at Easter

But life is ever changing, and soon my son moved his family back to Texas, leaving me in Utah once again without nearby family. I only saw Pacee maybe once a year from that time on.

She grew into a beautiful girl – and on December 13th, she is graduating from Texas A&M University with a civil engineering degree.

Having just recently returned from two weeks in Texas for a family reunion, I pleaded that I could not attend the graduation. Yesterday, however, I realized that I couldn’t miss it. To do so would leave me with regrets and I’ve promised myself that I would be an old woman with no regrets.

Pacee, today. Oh my oh my. Where did time go?

Pacee, today. Oh my oh my. Where did time go?

So I spent most of yesterday making plans for a quick trip that involves an economy (better gas mileage than my RV, Gypsy Lee) rental car, a pet-friendly hotel (Pepper’s going with me) to break up the 900-mile drive into two days, calling family members to say I was crashing at their houses, raiding my savings, and clearing the decks for a December 10 departure.

Don’t you just love it when everything comes together?

Bean’s Pat: Day of the Condor http://tinyurl.com/lde5nlj I have been in love with condors ever since, as an editor, I put the picture of the first captive born condor, on Page 1 of my newspaper.

“As each day comes to us refreshed and anew, so does my gratitude renew itself daily. The breaking of the sun over the horizon is my grateful heart dawning upon a blessed world.” — Terri Guillemets

I'm thankful that this old coot still has a zest for life and a curiosity about it as well.  -- Photo by Pat Bean

I’m thankful that this old coot still has a zest for life and a curiosity about it as well. — Photo by Pat Bean

  1. That I’m spending Thanksgiving this year with family, including my 2-year-old great-grandson.
  2. Belly laughs
  3. The Sonoran Desert, where I’ve lived now for almost a year.
  4. My resent reunion with my scattered family in Texas, including four children and their spouses and children.
  5. Pepper, my canine companion and lap full of joy.
  6. Rich African  coffee heavily laced with cream
  7. My small RV Gypsy Lee, who is still running and still my only transportation
  8. Cool nights that let me snuggle beneath a soft quilt
  9. That this old broad is still reasonably healthy and still able to take care of herself and even travel some.
  10. Hearty  hugs from people who mean it
  11. That my January broken foot is all healed.
  12. My Tucson apartment’s third floor balconies that let me see sunrises in the morning and sunsets in the evenings.
  13. My association with the awesome women of Story Circle Network
  14. A good haircut
  15. Scenic “short” hiking trails
  16. Achievements  of my kids, grandkids and friends
  17. My zest  for life
  18. Friends who love playing cards and board games
  19. Learning something new
  20. The flash  of sun illuminating the tail feathers of an overhead red-tailed hawk
  21. Waterfalls
  22. That as an American woman I can go anywhere alone and that my vote count just as much as a man’s — and believing that perhaps one day all women can say the same
  23. Ibuprofen to relieve aches and pains
  24. Discovering a fantastic new author
  25. Meet Ups, which have let me gain a community of writers and others who share my interests
  26. The hummingbirds, gila woodpecker and verdins that visit my nectar feeder
  27. Van Gogh paintings
  28. Butterflies
  29. My  computer and the Internet
  30. That I’m a writer and can live moments in my life twice
  31. Rainbows
  32. Helen Reddy’s recording of “I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar,” and John Denver’s recording of “Sunshine on my Shoulder Makes Me Happy.”
  33. Tono Chul Park
  34. Funky,  dangling earrings that belie my age
  35. Bra-less  days
  36. A stormy day spent with a good book
  37. Good memories of my mother
  38. Old  friends and new friends
  39. A field of wildflowers or blooming cacti
  40. My son-in-law’s chocolate chip cookies … hint, hint
  41. The wind  blowing through my hair
  42. My daily walks with Pepper
  43. That I can afford medical insurance despite its big hit on my budget
  44. A  wee-morning hours chatter with a long-time girlfriend over Jack Daniels  and Coke.
  45. Children who worry about their mother, although their worrying annoys me.
  46. The honking of geese as they fly overhead
  47. Lake reflections
  48. Family meals eaten around a table
  49. My curiosity
  50. Comfortable  shoes
  51. The daily e-mails I share with a daughter-in-law
  52. America’s national parks
  53. Electricity
  54. Pleasant surprises
  55. People who care deeply about something
  56. The wolf’s  return to Yellowstone
  57. The  journey between destinations
  58. A comfortable bed and a perfect pillow
  59. WordPress for hosting this blog
  60. Clean  white  sox
  61. Water in  all its forms
  62. Scented candles
  63. A sky full of stars
  64. Glasses that allow me to read
  65. Wind blowing through my hair
  66. Honest  politicians who truly care about the average American — surely there are some.
  67. Bird watching with my bird-watching son
  68. My dog-walking and writing jobs
  69. For tears that let me know I can still care deeply about people and things.
  70. Chocolate milk shakes made with real ice cream.
  71. Nice and Easy, No. 99 – so I can forever be a blonde
  72. Coyote  howls
  73. Wrinkle-free clothing
  74. Gentle dentists
  75. My  independence
  76. The  fragrant scent of a blooming gardenia bush, which always reminds me of my grandmother
  77. The diversity I find in people watching
  78. Large,  gnarly live oak trees
  79. Audible  books
  80. Maps
  81. A good editor
  82. Books with satisfying endings
  83. The strong women of the past who fought so I could vote
  84. A cup of  Earl Grey tea
  85. The color  turquoise
  86. Social Security
  87. Antibiotics and vaccinations
  88. Smiles
  89. The gambled quail that frolic in the desert around my apartment
  90. That gas is cheaper this year than last year
  91. My Canon pocket, zoom camera
  92. Air conditioners and heaters
  93. Blank  journals to fill
  94. The Catalina Mountains that have been my backyard for the past year.
  95. A hearty  11 a.m. breakfast for lunch
  96. The music  of a humpback whale
  97. Stained  glass windows
  98. Birds
  99. My alone time
  100. The family  computer nerds who get the bugs out of my laptop
  101. Readers of my blog and other writings

After the Rain

            “Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.” Roger Miller

Morning comes to Tucson's Catalina Mountains. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Morning comes to Tucson’s Catalina Mountains. — Photo by Pat Bean

Morning Walk with Pepper

            It was that magical moment before dawn when Pepper and I stepped out for this morning’s walk.

The landscape was all hues of gray, with a stillness over it that spoke louder than words, like the reflections on a lake bereft of a breeze,

I hadn’t heard it, but rain had fallen during the night. The uneven walk and grounds still held puddles that the desert’s dry air had not yet sucked away, or the land claimed for its own. Best of all there was the green smell of trees washed clean of dust, and an earthen spice that wafted up from the ground. No man-made perfume could ever smell as sweet.

The scents intrigued Pepper, whose furry black nose searched everywhere. I simply breathed in Mother Nature’s bounty and felt blessed, and my soul rejoiced that I was a writer. Although words could never fully capture and expel all that I felt during my short morning walk with a beloved canine companion, they were there in my head. And I knew I had to write them down and share.

And now that I’ve done just that, I’ll go have my morning cup of coffee.

The Wondering-Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Take an armchair walk in France http://tinyurl.com/mfjc37m While the architectural details of the palaces are magnificent, the walk through the trees is what drew me into this blog.

The Pain of Living

            “Find a place inside where there is joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.” – Joseph Campbell

Life is full of rainbows, and life is full of storms. The first without the second wouldn't be as sweet. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Life is full of rainbows, and life is full of storms. The first without the second wouldn’t be as sweet. — Photo by Pat Bean

You Can’t Escape 

            I’ve been reading books for a female memoir writing contest. Several of them deal with surviving the pain of losing loved ones – and most of these books left me feeling a bit cynical. Everyone who lives to a ripe age loses loved ones. It’s part of life’s journey.

If we're lucky we get to smell the flowers along the way. -- Photo by Pat Bean

If we’re lucky we get to smell the flowers along the way. — Photo by Pat Bean

Sure it hurts. I’m still hurting from the loss of my mother, and I can only imagine the pain I will have to live through if one of my children dies before I do. That’s not the order in which life is supposed to be lived.

But why, I asked myself, did some of these authors act like their suffering was the only loss in the world? Get over it, I wanted to tell them.

But one of the memoirs involving death got to me. It was written by a woman whose activities included research involving hospice patients nearing death. She spent time with these people, recording their feelings and coming to care for them.

The researcher became especially close to one woman on the verge of death. This was a woman who had lived a hard street life, and admitted stealing, lying and prostituting herself to get the drugs she craved. “I cared for nobody else but myself,” she related.

And occasionally simply have time to sit and let the world go by. -- Photo by Pat Bean

And occasionally simply have time to sit and let the world go by. — Photo by Pat Bean

Before this woman died, the researcher herself found herself with cancer, and facing possible death.  The news upset the former drug addict so much that she bullied her hospice attendants into transporting her in a wheelchair to the researcher’s side in a hospital.

When the researcher apologized for causing the dying woman pain, the woman thanked her instead.

“For the first time, I know what it feels like to care about someone besides myself. It makes me feel alive in a way that I never did before,” she told the researcher

These words caused tears to flow from my eyes. I, too, in a moment of sorrow had once been grateful for pain. While it was a love that was rejected that had given me the pain, it was this same pain that let me know I still had the capacity to love.

In my book, that was treasured knowledge.

Bean’s Pat: Grateful for one more day http://tinyurl.com/kcnd7fa And hopeful for many more

What is Home?

            “You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it’s all right.” — Maya Angelou

This view from my balcony is now part of what means home to me. -- Photo by Pat Bean

This view from my bedroom balcony is now part of what means home to me. — Photo by Pat Bean

Whatever You Want It To Be

            I spent nine wonderful years living and traveling this country full-time in Gypsy Lee, my 22-foot motor home. Recently I realized that was more years than I had ever lived in one specific dwelling in my life.         

Desert sunsets from my front balcony now seem like part of my home. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Desert sunsets from my living room balcony now mean home to me.  — Photo by Pat Bean

All that time I was traveling, the road felt more like home than any of my former rooted dwellings. This wondering wanderer pondered why?

            The road, I finally decided, with its wondrous sights and beauty, was what I had longed for almost all my life. I dreamed about exploring this country, from coast to coast and border to border, ever since I can remember.

            The hundreds of travel books I read over the years — “Blue Highways” by William Least Heat Moon, “On the Road,” by Charles Kuralt, “Travels with Charley,” by John Steinbeck, “A Walk in the Woods,” by Bill Bryson, “Desert Solitaire” by Edward Abbey, and many, many more – fueled those dreams.

            Then finally, at 65 years of age, I made the dream come true. I figured I had about five years before age would catch up with me, and I would have to stop living atop wheels, but I almost doubled that expectation.  

And Pepper is part of my home now. I'm a very blessed and a very thankful person. -- Photo by Pat Bean

And Pepper is part of my home now. I’m a very blessed and a very thankful person. — Photo by Pat Bean

          This year I exchanged the road for a Tucson, Arizona, third-floor apartment in the Catalina Mountain foothills. Although I find it hard to believe, it now feels like home. Of course this wondering wanderer pondered why?

            In doing so, I listed what home meant to this old-broad wandering wonderer these days. My answers included: A place with a large bathtub so that I could soak in a hot tub whenever I wanted. This, I should tell you, is the only think I missed after paring down for my RV lifestyle and the road..

            Home also means a place where I can spend a whole day in my pajamas – if I wanted and did not have my dog, Pepper, to walk, but then Pepper, herself, is home.

             Home is a place with lots of books, even if one has a Kindle. Home is my desk and computer, where I can write to my heart’s content.  Home is a place where I can keep in touch with loved ones, and occasionally travel to visit them. Home is a balcony with a view of nature and birds and mountains. Home is a place to bring friends.

            What I now also know is that home is more inside of one than outside of one, and that it can be whatever you want it to be, and make it to be.       

The Wondering-Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

     Bean’s Pat: The Road Not Taken http://tinyurl.com/l37f994 Something to think about.