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A lot has changed since the 1950s and 1960s, and I’m sure much of it is for the best. Stricter safety measures and laws, awareness of toxins, and “stranger danger” instruction keeps the younger generation safer and healthier. But when I think of how we lived back in the day, I’m amazed that most of us survived the hazards of growing up.

In 1960, the population of the United States was around 170 to 180 million, according to one source. In 2020, the population was 331 million, so it is understandable that certain aspects of life had to change. It’s much like living in a small town versus a big city. While dangers exist everywhere, a city’s crime and accident rates are usually higher than most small towns.

But back to The Wonder Years era. Things we did that would never work today.

Piling into the back of your dad’s pickup truck to go somewhere. Riding in the middle of the front bench seat of the car without wearing a seatbelt, even standing up there if you were small enough. Crawling into the little space behind the back seat to stretch-out and see the cars traveling behind you. Riding bicycles and skateboarding without helmets. Drinking water from the garden hose, licking fruity powder from the palm of your unwashed hand.

At my house, my germ-phobic mother used bleach and Pine Sol regularly. My cloth diapers, I’m sure, were soaked in a bleach mixture before being washed. Our only bathroom was sanitized daily. The smell of Pine Sol was the air freshener of choice since she mopped the floors religiously.

On Sundays, Mom always took off her church dress and hung it up to wear again to Sunday night services. She wore a cotton housecoat all afternoon. Dad took off his coat and tie, but kept his dress pants and shirt on for the same reason. We kids played outside at all times. I don’t remember ever playing inside at a neighbor’s house. We roamed the neighborhood and walked as a small group to a small store to spend our nickels and dimes on candy like candy cigarettes and pink bubble gum cigars. Mosquito trucks sprayed the streets, and although my parents instructed me to come inside when they came by, it wasn’t unusual for other kids to run behind the trucks or ride their bikes and get the spray all over them as well as breathe it in.

We jumped on trampolines without protective sides, walked home from school without an adult, and sat close to the TV to watch our favorite shows, of which there weren’t many since most programming was targeted to adults. Romper Room, the Mickey Mouse Club, and a local kids’ show were my fare.

I’m not saying life was better then, although in some ways it was. I’m not saying the dangers we were exposed to out of ignorance weren’t present. But I’m glad I grew up in a time when kids were still fairly innocent, when doing chores for your allowance and playing outside with friends for hours was the norm, and when families could watch TV shows together without worrying that something might not be appropriate for kids. Sure, someone died on Gunsmoke every week, but it didn’t scare us because there was no blood and it had happened in the past, not the present. Besides, we knew it was just pretend.

We endured name-calling and bullying just as kids do today. We had mean teachers and nice teachers, and we had the popular crowd and the rest of the school. We had all of that. We grew up hearing about Vietnam and said good-bye to loved ones who went there to serve. Anti-war protests kept the news media hopping, and the Cold War with the Soviet Union was ever present.

It was not a perfect time, but it was our time. And if you’re a baby boomer and reading this, you understand that it was, in many ways, a special time for many.

If it hasn’t happened already, it will if you live long enough. You’ll be going through your life, being busy I whatever way your world is busy, experiencing the ups and downs we all have and maybe some a little more extreme than others. You may or may. not take care of your health by exercising, eating right, avoiding bad habits, and getting enough sleep. You may or may not deal with constant health issues like diabetes, MS, or other conditions that can affect anyone at any age.

But one day you notice the world around you is changing. Cooking instructions on a cake mix box, for instance, are in a much smaller font than they used to be. And if you’re trying to read any kind of vitamin or medicine bottle, forget it. That’s what phone magnifiers are for. Conversations in noisy restaurants are a challenge. People just talk too loudly in public these days, so you can’t hear what someone across the table from you is saying. Throw in some occasional aches and pains without any real cause, skin as dry as the Atacama Desert (thank you, baby oil and iodine or Hawaiian Tropic), and hair that no longer flows back to your shoulders after being out in the wind and stands straight out instead, then you can recognize that you are aging.

As if the physical changes aren’t bad enough, your place in the world shifts. You become invisible in many ways. In stores, strangers once made eye contact with you. Now they look past you as though you don’t exist. Your children, who began to question your wisdom and intelligence as teen-agers but got over it in their twenties and thirties, now think of you as older while at the same time thinking you’re Superman or Wonder Woman (which is a compliment). Yet they think you’re a dinosaur when it comes to technology, a fondness for network television shows, or an appreciation for the best music ever, meaning the 1960s and 1970s.

I confess. I never understood my dad’s love of Johnny Cash nor my mom’s devotion to The Lawrence Welk Show. Guilty as charged.

But back to my original point. With all these negatives, then, is it possible to find joy in this process?

For me, it’s several things. Some might say retirement is the biggest joy, and to some extent that’s true. But not for everyone. So I’ll leave that out of the equation.

The joys I’ve discovered are simple. The feeling of freedom in no longer caring if people approve of my fashion style. I wear what I like, and if I’ve had an outfit for more than ten years and I still like it, I’ll wear it. I’ve found joy in my sons finding wives with whom to share their lives and build their own families. I’ve found joy in the simple things in life, activities that might have once bored me, like drinking my morning coffee on my front porch very early as I listen to the world around me waking up.

Even though I’m older, I’m still making new friends in my church community, in civic groups, and through other friends and family. Old friendships hold a special sweetness and are even more special as time marches on.

When you’re older, you know who you are. You can look at your flaws and acknowledge your strengths without being too preoccupied with either. Sure, you try to improve (or at least I do), but you are able to put things into perspective. While past hurts may surface at times, they no longer torture you. You truly learn the meaning of “It is what it is.”

In the Christian community, the word “JOY” is used as an acronym: Jesus, Others, Yourself. In learning to put others’ needs before our own (something you do constantly while raising children), you learn to let go of your own wants, worries, and fears, and that attitude can bring you peace. Doing things for others to bring them joy is a blessing to you as much as it is to them if not more so.

When you’re working, raising a family, and juggling responsibilities and activities, life can be a bit overwhelming. This, though, will pass, and someday you will have time to appreciate who you are, where you are, and what you have.

I realize this post does not apply to people going through extremely difficult times that the rest of us can’t or don’t want to imagine. This post is for those of you like me, people going through life with occasional bumps and bruises or people who have gone through extreme hardship but managed to find strength to overcome. No doubt life is a rollercoaster of experiences and emotions, and no doubt there are negatives to aging, but there are also joys.

We just have to look for them.

Three time periods. Four human main characters. Horse racing. Art. Racial issues. Romance. Clean fiction based upon real life.

All descriptors of the book Horse by Geraldine Brooks. I’ll add one more descriptor: one of my favorite books.

When my friend Judy gifted me the audiobook a couple of years ago, I’d never heard of it. I was intrigued, though, because I was one of those girls who loved horse books. From Black Beauty to more contemporary books involving horses, I read as many as I could. Dreams of someday living on a ranch and having my own horses were a constant in my life, even into adulthood.

The horse Lexington, who was known as Darly until he was sold, was a real horse upon which Brooks created a a story by interweaving real people and events with her imagination. The result is a book that you don’t want to put down. Well, I didn’t. I’ve listened to the audiobook three times and am getting ready to do so again since I will be sharing information about it with one of my book clubs in October.

Two weeks ago today, some friends called to see if we wanted to take a quick trip to eastern Kentucky. Along the way, they said, we’d stop at Abraham Lincoln’s birthplace and childhood home and then go on to Lexington to tour Claiborne Farms, a breeding facility where Secretariat is buried. Lexington is only about a four and a half hour drive, so we were up for it. During the drive, I wondered aloud about the location of the International Museum of the Horse, the place described in the book where Lexington’s skeleton is on display. Was it in Louisville or Lexington?

Lexington at the Kentucky Horse Park. I couldn’t believe it. I was thrilled.

Not only did I get to see Lexington’s display, I also was able to pet and give peppermints to two race horses, now used for breeding, at Claiborne. The first horse was worth $11 million. The horse in this picture is worth $85 million.

If you love horses, I encourage you to the read the book. And however you feel about horse racing, you might enjoy touring one or more of the many horse farms in the area as well as the Kentucky Horse Park. I hope to go back someday.

When I was a middle school principal, the school’s bookkeeper and I agreed that working kept us sane. Our days were full of things we had to do and people with whom we had to interact. We had no time to think about what was troubling us. Sure, there were days that were too long and exhausting, and the human body is not programmed to live like that seven days a week, and our lives are often a case of feast or famine (either too busy or not busy enough), but I’ve noticed in others and in myself that boredom is perhaps more dangerous than being too busy.

I get it. Some of you are never bored. You’re busy with children and grandchildren and maybe caring for a parent from time to time. But we’re all bored at times. Sitting in a doctor’s office waiting too long for an appointment. Sitting with someone in a hospital. Sitting through a long-winded speaker who’s just not very interesting.

But too much boredom leads to crime, unhealthy habits, and depression. Loneliness may play a role in some cases, but even lonely people can find contentment in productive activities. An old saying that dates back several centuries is something like “idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

We live in a world of need, even here in the United States that is blessed beyond measure. There are always things to do and people to help if we look for them.

I’ve had to learn that lesson. As my regular readers know, I’ve struggled with retirement. Not that I want to go back to full work days, but I have too many empty hours to fill. So I look for ways to fill them.

If you’re struggling with boredom or loneliness, allow me to share what has worked for me:

1. Try new things. A new hobby, cook something different, invite people over for a simple lunch or a potluck dinner.
2. Call or visit a shut-in or even just someone who lives alone and is unable to drive. Go to the nursing homes and see how you can help.
3. Volunteer at your church or find a civic club of which you can be a part.
4. Be the organizer of activities instead of waiting on someone to reach out to you.
5. Think of things on your bucket list, and do as many as you can afford or do physically. For me, it was being on the Sirius XM Elvis Radio Quiz Show, participating in the St. Jude half-marathon in Memphis (I mostly walked), and a couple of trips I’d always wanted to do. I’m adding to the bucket list.
6. Learn something new. With the Internet, countless courses, both free and the paid kind, are available. I’m learning Braille, but I also want to keep my Spanish and French language skills, so I watch videos to keep me from forgetting. Audit a class at a local university.

I could keep going, but you get the idea. Don’t let boredom control you. I’ve been guilty of it more days than I like to admit. But I’m working at it.

If you’re like me, you’ve heard wise sayings all your life. From “a penny saved is a penny earned” to “life is like a box of chocolates,” we’ve heard plenty. The one, however, that I read in a devotional book or even on Facebook has impacted me the most. I may not be quoting it exactly, but it is basically this: Dwelling on yesterday and worrying about tomorrow robs you of joy today.

What a wise saying.

The truth is, we all think about the past. We remember the happy childhood that seems so perfect now or dredge up past hurts and disappointments that continue to hut us today. We miss the happier times without realizing how lucky we are to have endured the bad times. We plan for the future and worry about finances, our loved ones, our health, and our jobs.

We can be so busy looking back or looking forward, we fail to appreciate where we are right now.

No doubt there are times we don’t want to focus on the now. Going through a health crisis or grieving the loss of a loved one or dealing with a broken relationship can make us long for better days, and that is perfectly normal. After all, we are human, and how we react to negative events is unique to each of us because of our varied personalities and abilities.

But what about all the times when life isn’t hitting us hard and dragging us down? What about the day-to-day events that are part of our routines and irritations? If we could remember that wise saying, could we not do a better job of handling and accepting things that really aren’t that important?

I have been guilty more than I want to admit of failing to appreciate the here and now, and I’m not saying I will never be guilty of it again. But I am sharing these thoughts in the hopes it will remind me, and maybe you, that we really do need to “stop and smell the roses” at times.

My favorite kind of day is a busy one. Whether it’s cleaning house or working in the yard or spending time with my young granddaughters, I love being so weary at night that sleep comes quickly and I can appreciate the bliss of a good night’s rest. When I’m inactive and bored, my mind goes places it doesn’t need to go. I wish for things I can never have, like my vision back or a fun job (I used to imagine myself selling tickets at Graceland so I could listen to Elvis music all day, ha ha) or living in a community with sidewalks and stores I can walk easily to since I can’t drive.

But the truth is, in both situations, I am learning to focus on today and look for the joys it has to offer. I’m doing my best to make the most of each moment and doing my best to help others in whatever small way I can. Doing that gets me out of my own head space.

As I write this, I realize maybe ten people will read it, and that’s okay. But if you, like me, feel the need to learn to appreciate today, I hope this blog is an encouragement to you. Whatever distractions and worries are bringing you down, I hope you can let go of them, at least for the moment.

Embrace today. It’s all we have.

No, I’m not talking about walking across two states. But this new weight loss program I’ve discovered, quite by accident, is guaranteed to work. If I need to lose two or three pounds in a hurry, this has worked every time. In only a week, up to five pounds can disappear depending upon how well you follow it.

Yes, it does involve a measure of portion control. It does involve some lifting which engages your core as well as your legs, arms, and back. It is important to get seven to eight hours of sleep each night, which gives your body much needed rest.

Here’s the schedule:

Arise at 6:30 A.M. Drink one or two cups of coffee. You’ll need the caffeine. I don’t eat breakfast, but if you do, eat something like yogurt with fruit.

Lunch will consist of a small sandwich.

Dinner/supper will be one serving of whatever you’ve prepared. Nothing fried, no dessert.

No bedtime snack.

So what’s so different about this? Well, it’s what you’re doing in between meals.

No running or aerobics workout or even yoga. No treadmill or walking five miles on an outdoor track.

Then only equipment you need is two toddlers. More if you can handle it, but at least two. By the time you follow them around, push them in swings, lift them up or down, deal with happy times and sometimes frustrated times, read books to them, and whatever else interests them, you will log about 7,000 steps and keep your metabolism revved. You may rest during nap time or you may choose to take care of laundry or other household chores. Once they are down for the night, you can collapse. And you will have some of the best sleep you can imagine, as long as they sleep all night.

You will burn calories singing songs, laughing, kneeling to console when necessary, holding hands, and yes, you might give them a little more Mickey Mouse viewing time than Mom and Dad would like, but…well, there’s still plenty of activity.

Not only will you build muscle, lose weight, and have improved sleep, you’ll create memories that will, for you, last a lifetime. They’ll forget these days if they haven’t already, but you’ll never forget the cute sayings, the sweet hugs, and yes, even the occasional temper tantrum.

Or at least you hope you won’t.

Grandparents’ fitness week or long weekend. It works every time.

No real reason for this photo except I couldn’t find anything in my library. Plus I’d much rather share photos of my younger self than my current self!

How weird am I? Well, read the list, and you tell me.

1. I’m not a huge fan of chocolate. I’ll eat it but don’t love it. I’d rather have vanilla.
2. Although met teen and college years were in the 70s, I prefer music from the60s.
3. I don’t particularly like hamburgers or pizza. I can eat them, but it would be fine with me if I spent the rest of my life without eating either.
4. I love, love, love to go for long fitness walks.
5. I love aerobics like the old Jane Fonda exercise tapes and Jazzercise.
6. I’d rather iron clothes for an hour than unload a dishwasher for five minutes. I actually enjoy ironing. Stand in front of the TV and have a talk show on or listen to an audiobook, and I am perfectly content.
7. I liked Elvis when liking Elvis wasn’t cool.
8. I don’t love retirement.
9. Going to the beach and doing nothing more than sitting on the beach and going out to eat does not appeal to me. I’d rather be spending some time on the beach then going and doing other things. I think I posted about how much better our trip to the Outer Banks in 2018 was than any trip we’ve made to the Gulf.
10. I thrive on change. I’ve been fortunate that most changes in my life have been positive ones, but I would never be the type to work in the same job for 40 years. Too boring.
11. The idea of moving doesn’t bother me. Part of it is actually appealing. Maybe because I moved around quite a bit the early years of my life.
12. I love broccoli. Really. Without cheese sauce.
13. Speaking of which, I’m not a huge fan of cheese. I definitely don’t like cheeseburgers.
14. I also love Brussels sprouts, Cracker Barrel turnip greens, and most vegetables.
15. I don’t like just sitting and watching television. I like to be doing something while the TV is on. Before vision loss, I used to put jigsaw puzzles together while watching TV. Or I worked on a cross-stitch project. Or I did a lap quilt project. Can’t do any of those things anymore, but I have learned to use a loom to make crocheted caps for premature babies and cancer patients, so I’m enjoying that.

I could keep going, but how do I rate on the weirdness scale? Pretty high, I bet.

What about you? What is your “weirdness” factor?

Okay, okay, I’m not blind in the way you think. I am legally blind, though, and if you’re confused by that term, go to Amazon and get my book “Learning to Live with Vision Loss” for free if you have Kindle Unlimited (until the end of June) or for $2.99 as an e-book, or for $5.99 as a large-print paperback. In case you choose not to buy the book, though, I’ll give a brief explanation. What being blind means for me is that I have no central vision in either eye as well as some peripheral loss, and my peripheral sees 20/400. What that means is what a person with normal vision sees from 400 feet away, I have to be as close as 20 feet.

But that’s not the point of this post. Nor does this post have anything to do with the sketch above, other than to share that I used to enjoy sketching people and animals, but that once very enjoyable hobby is now very challenging and not quite as much fun.

Being unable to sketch like I once did is not the worst part of my vision loss story.

The worst part is being unable to drive.

I have devices that help me do things like use the computer, watch television, read short amounts, and other activities (once again, explained in my book). I can still enjoy being around people and doing physical activities like walking for fitness, yoga, dancing, swimming, even playing miniature golf. My life is good. No, make that great. I’m extremely blessed.

Yet one negative continues to resurface despite my best efforts. That little voice in my head that whispers, “If only I could still drive…” There are so many things I could do if I could still drive. I could run errands again. I could go to town or to visit shut-ins or go walking somewhere else besides my neighborhood whenever I wanted. I could drive to bigger towns for a day of browsing the stores. I could help others by running errands for them or taking them places instead of someone else having to do those things for me. I could go see my granddaughters, who live over two hours away. I could help my family more.

My complaint (and it is a complaint although I don’t like to admit it) is common among adults who lost their vision later in life. We went from being independent to being stuck in our homes or neighborhoods and having to rely on someone else to get us to the places we need or want to go. Maybe people in large metropolitan areas that offer public transportation or people with limitless money who can afford Uber or Lyft anytime they want don’t share these feelings, but for most of us, the inability to drive means we have lost much of our freedom.

That’s a hard pill to swallow. It can be done, but it takes a long time.

I’ve been extremely fortunate to have family and friends to take me places. I know there are many not as blessed. I appreciate it more than they know while at the same time feeling embarrassed to need their assistance. I’m strong and healthy. I can walk five or six miles at a fast pace and not even be tired. The thought of me living like an elderly shut-in while still as healthy as I am seems wrong somehow, like the universe is out of kilter.

I guess I am writing about this for selfish reasons. I guess I want to vent, to make people understand what it’s like. It could be I’m writing this in case you know someone who is unable to drive for any reason so you will understand what they’re going through if they have the health and the will to get out and about. If you do, maybe reading this will persuade you to reach out to them, to go visit them, to take them places without them having to ask you.

After five years of not driving, it has gotten easier. I am adjusting and accepting, but I still have my moments. I’m getting there.

And if you’re still fortunate enough to be able to drive, don’t take it for granted. Try not to get worked up about that person in front of you driving five miles under the speed limit or staying in the left lane when he should be in the right or any number of things that can go wrong when traveling from Point A to Point B.

It’s annoying, no doubt. But at least you can drive. I’d gladly drive slower than the speed limit or behind a driver in the wrong lane just to be able to drive again.