Fun with Three Oldsters on Today’s Morning Walk

June 20, 2026

Geez! Started walking to our local Bloomingfoods Co-op this morning (about a mile away) to get my weekly loaf of Muddy Fork’s great gluten free bread that comes in early on Saturday mornings; did this in lieu of actually going to the Saturday Market, thinking I wanted to speed up this errand and not loiter about talking to people.

Well, of course I loitered, talking to people — on my way to and inside the Co-op!

Didn’t mean to or want to; it just happened.

 

The first time someone in a car approached me from behind and stopped. Another crone. I’ll call her “Sylvia.” Yelled out “Ann!” Wow! haven’t seen Sylvia in many many months! She used to ride her bike round and round her apartment complex every morning, and I would often run into her on my walks. Usually, she didn’t stop however, just waved and rode on.

And I had wondered how she was doing.

Well, it turns out that she tripped and fell on her rocking chair, wounding the calf of her left leg. The of course very thin skin burst open, and damn, it’s taking many weeks to close up. So no bike riding for her, lest someone run into her and she falls.

At this point I told her my own experience: not having ridden a bike for about 12 years (due to daily dog walking), I decided I wanted to ride again. So I started to get on the bike. Oops! Sudden realization: My body did not remember how to ride a bike. Can you believe? I thought my body would remember forever. And at that point, this was a few years ago, I realized: Ann, you should not re-learn how to ride a bike. Because you might fall in the learning process; and break something: leg, ankle, knee, hip. At this age you do not want to fall. Period.

So, stunned to have to acknowledge this fact, I gave up the idea.

Sylvia nodded her head the whole time, and told me about the time, a few years ago, when she tried to get back on ice skates after a number of years, thinking it would be no big deal. But geez! She was instantly wobbly, and decided, regretfully, to forget it.

I stood there, and she idled her car there, for about 20 minutes. We’ve never talked for so long nonstop.

 

Okay, then, a few blocks later, Scampi and I saw a giant black dog with a slight woman way up at the other end of a long long street, walking toward us. As we got closer, with Scampi of course very excited, I called out: “Can they meet?” She had stopped, instructed her dog to sit and wait for us to pass. But at my invitation she was thrilled.

“Yes!”

So the dogs met, and the two of us met as well. I’ll call her “Mary.” She’s another crone, and walks four to five miles daily with her dog. YES! Makes me wonder how many of us crone long walkers are out there. Then she told me the story of how her dog was named. Her husband thought of the name “Ronan”; she thought of the name “Ronen.” When he told her the (unusual) name he came up with she was floored, given that it was almost the same (unusual) name as the one she came up with.

Me: “So who won?”

Mary: “Me. Of course!”

 

Then, once I got into the Co-op, standing at the herbs and spices section, I ran into another old one, this time a mild, sweet man. He looked familiar.

“I think I’ve met you before,” I offered.

To which he immediately replied: “I was in the group that took the permaculture workshops at your house many years ago!” (Wow. When was that, 18 years ago?) See: https://www.greenacresvillage.org/

I told him about our twice-monthly Community Dinners; he was eager to be put on the list.

Then I asked him if he might consider driving with me to the Midwest Permaculture Convergence next weekend, in southern Michigan. Three days. We’d be camping. . . Told him I’d send him the info.

He looked tempted; however, “the idea of camping at my age” . . .

“I know. I feel the same way. But mainly, I don’t want to travel to Michigan alone.”

So we’ll see if that happens, for either or both of us. We did exchange names, emails and phone numbers.

Then we started talking about the benefits of urine therapy for plants.

 

I told him I’ve even been known to drink my own urine. . . known as Shivambu in ancient eastern texts. . . . (Searching the internet just now, I see that this practice is largely frowned upon in the west.)

Just then an employee at the Co-op came up; I told him we were just talking about drinking our own urine. He didn’t miss a beat. “Aha. Typical conversation at the Co-op. . .” Of course the three of us guffawed like crazy.

 

 

I’ve been so damn GOOD that I just had to do something BAD

June 19, 2026

It’s true. I’ve been such a very very good girl lately, re: health practices, including what foods I consume, how often each day, exercise patterns, etc. etc., that I began to notice a certain internal longing. Every time I went to  nearby Aldi or our Bloomington Co-op, I would notice it: a tendency to want to veer in the direction of “processed food,” sugar, and/or stimulants like caffeine (I allow myself only an ounce or two of coffee each day).

It pissed me off, this longing. Pissed me off that I couldn’t just permanently adjust to the constraints I’ve put myself under, all in the interests of continued good health, and avoidance of allopathic medicine. As if I was still a little kid, wanting to sneak and do something bad.

But: I was a very very good girl back then, too.

Okay, enough ranting. Here is how I decided to satisfy that longing. I got this Protein Frappe (Mocha) at Aldi yesterday, held it overnight in the fridge, wanting to wait until the midpoint of this 84th year, which would be the 19th of June, and opened it just a few minutes ago.

BTW. It’s not very good. Not nearly as good as the chilled Starbucks Frappuchino I get at a gas station whenever I embark on a road trip.

But seriously. What is this need to balance good with bad? Or at least to allow a tiny sliver of it to leak/sneak in? Well, I should have known. Of course! It’s yin/yang!

I mean DUH!

Get a grip, girl!

Of course! I knew this. I’ve known this. In fact, I’ve dictacted (new word?) forever on the need to continuously engage and balance the opposites, that there is never one without the other, that the creative impulse ignites in the space between them.

For example, here’s an excerpt from a farily recent post on socialism:

11/11/25. I reflect on Socialism . . .

Excerpt:

And that’s what’s going on within me now. The “obvious polarity within mind and body;” which includes: “Notice, both these poles are mentally generated”!!

Given that I’m 83.5 years old (as of today!), and so want to prolong good health as long as possible, the (double Sagittarian) mind has been determined to take charge of the willful (Moon in Taurus) body, via various daily practices that I call “physical culture,” — and has done so, quite successfully! But the body — and by that I really mean the unconscious, which I consider to be coterminous with the body — senses the whole, not just the part: not just good girl, but bad girl; not just discipline, but freedom.

Or, as google’s Gemini AI puts it:

Given that I was born into the generation with Uranus/Saturn conjunct in Gemini (1942-43), the tension between freedom and discipline is both strong and lifelong. Plus, since it’s in Gemini, I’m continuously rolling this tension around in my mind, trying to make sense of it, noticing how it affects every area of my life!

Mea culpa, for those who are bored with my preoccupation!