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My Book of Walks

2020 was the year of walking, for so many people. People streamed by my house with kids or dogs. There were memes and jokes on social media about dogs hiding from their owners who were wanting to go on yet another walk. An idea sprang up for people to put teddy bears in their windows for kids to count as they passed by–a Teddy Bear Hunt. I put some of my bears in the living room window, too. People decorated their windows, doors or yards in ways that would be fun for passersby. It felt very communal.

I was one of those walkers, too, since I was already walking with my dogs every day, and I loved seeing all the cheerful messages around the neighborhood, greeting new people with their dogs, observing the ways people kept their houses and yards, checking out all the Little Libraries in my area. I love walking anyway, and I’ve been at it still. Some of those walks have been with both of my dogs, with just Miles, by myself, or with a friend.

On my birthday last year I started keeping a book of my daily walks. I had a blank book that had belonged to a friend who died. Since it has French words on the cover, I had assumed she bought it in Paris. And in my typical way, I imagined some Romantic meaning (mai oui! because it’s French) but when I looked up Mon Carnet De Poche I found it just means My Pocket Notebook. Oh well. C’est la vie.

So each day I put down the date and write a little something about the walk–who I was with, where we went, who we met (including any dog’s name that we learned), what I saw, what the morning was like. It has resulted in me speaking to people I see and asking their names, which is nice. And I started picking up little bits of thing that I’d see–leaves, flower petals, things like that–and I tape them into the book. It is now a year later and the book is fatter (me, too, despite the walking) and full of lots of little bits of thing. And with pages to go! It has been a fun little project that I will likely stop when there are no pages left.

One of my friends’ houses that Miles always likes to go visit

I always have some kind of record-keeping thing like this to add to my routines and make life just a little more interesting. I imagine I’ll think of something else to keep track of, write down, or collect when I’m finished with this. What about you?

“Now shall I walk or shall I ride?

‘Ride,’ Pleasure said;

‘Walk,’ Joy replied.”

― W.H. Davies

“But the beauty is in the walking — we are betrayed by destinations.”

― Gwyn Thomas

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Goodness

I just had a landmark birthday–70. First, let me say, I feel incredibly cherished, loved, and treasured by my family and friends, having had a wonderful birthday. All stops pulled out. No holds barred. It was an amazing birthday. I am immensely grateful.

But 70. This is really going some. I was only ever once bothered by a number, and that was 40. It took me by surprise. I had been thinking I look young, I feel young, so who cares? And then, the night before, I suddenly realized the true meaning of turning 40. Forty years of my life were gone. Now, with 70 years behind me, I feel grateful for a very full and lucky life, while also acknowledging that I am pretty far along in an average lifespan.

I do always ponder age, life, and my intentions when I have a birthday. But this one, so soon after the death of someone I very much admired, perhaps makes the question of intentions more urgent than usual.

Drawing by E. H. Shepard

When I turned 60 I set out to do 60 new things, and that was loads of fun. But for 70 I’m thinking I’d like to do one thing really well. And that one thing is this: I want to get really good at being a good, kind, loving person. I believe I’ve written about this before. A Winnie-the-Pooh, perhaps. I do also have human role models but Winnie-the-Pooh has been captured forever in a book, with drawings and quotes and so forth, and I will never lose him.

“So from then on, he looked at all his choices and said, What would a good person do, and then did it. But he has now learned something very important about human nature. If you spend your whole life pretending to be good, then you are indistinguishable from a good person. Relentless hypocrisy eventually becomes the truth.” – Orson Scott Card, Ender in Exile

I love this. Pretend. Pretend to be that person. Do as you hope to be.And then, too, Deepak Chopra says that our true self is perfect and cannot be altered by life, circumstances, detours, bad choices, or mistakes. The true self is never damaged or broken. It is forever perfect in each of us. I so love this idea, too. I immediately feel lighter when I think of it.

“I shall hereafter be more myself.” – William Shakespeare

So there’s my intention for 70, for my new decade, for this last part of my life. I shall be more myself; that is, I shall be more my true self.

I apologize for the lateness of this letter. I was busy all weekend being loved to pieces by many people and feeling tremendously thankful for my good fortune.
If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”
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Losses

My pickleball community just lost one of its best loved members. At this writing, it’s not even been 12 hours. We are, as a group and as individuals, immersed in this loss right now and I am hard pressed to think or write about anything else. Life sure does turn on a dime. I cannot very well write about nature or my dogs or anything else at all today.

Dick was a truly beautiful person. Oh, you hear that said about people all the time. But he really was one of those people that everyone loves. And I don’t think I’m stretching anything or hurting anyone’s feelings to say that he was, hands-down, the most beloved person in our community, having just joined us three years ago. Always joking, always fun to play with or against, and a very good player, too. Plus, he was adorable! One day when he was coming off the court and I was going on, he said as he passed, “I saw in the news that Hallmark is going out of business. The article specifically stated that you and your cards were the reason.”

For maybe ten years I have said I only want to live to be 82. And then Dick showed up. He was 82 then. He moved like a young guy. I was flabbergasted. I asked him where he had come from, etc., and he said he and his wife live here but had been wintering in Arizona. Oh, well, that explained it. Those people in Arizona are crazy over pickleball. They play all the time. “So you’ve been playing out there for a long time?” No, he said, he only just started playing. “You played tennis, though?” No. “Racquetball?” No. “Ping pong?” Nope. He just took up pickleball in his 80s and played like a young guy.

So that’s great, but the truly wonderful thing about Dick was his fun-loving personality. If you snuck in a clever dink that he couldn’t get to, he’d give you the stink eye, big time. It was all in fun, of course, and he’d make some remark about how we were supposed to be friends or how mean you were. But in reality, I don’t think Dick ever once got mad or even irritated at pickleball. He was pure joy to be around.

I wonder if it takes effort to be that sort of person–or did it just come naturally to him? Was it easy for him to be wonderful, kind, fun, and lovely? Or did he have to talk to himself about it? Did he have to work at it? Or was he born with an adorableness that you’d have to inherit genetically? Could I ever be even somewhat like him? I don’t know but I sure would like to be. I sure would love to embody his spirit for this last part of my life.

“Genuinely good people are like that. The sun shines out of them. They warm you right through.”

― Michael Morpurgo, Alone on a Wide Wide Sea

I know I should count myself lucky when my losses are hard, because they tell me I’ve had someone wonderful in my life. If I hadn’t met Dick or had the pleasure and fun of his company on the courts, I would be feeling very differently today. But what a loss that, too, would be.
If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems on here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”