Another Day in the Country
Let me entertain you
© Another Day in the Country
In writing this column, I make the assumption that you and I have some essential ways in which we are similar.
First of all, we’re humans being human, and that right there assures a myriad of ways in which we are compatible.
We are on the same planet, living in the same country (for the most part), experiencing the same season, sometimes in the same town, so we have quite a few things in common.
In Marion County, an unusually large population in an older age bracket gives a lot of us another area of similar interest, though as an octogenarian I’m not always all that fascinated by people my age.
Often we can be very boring and rather predictable. We have a tendency to report on our medical issues, which are omnipresent in our awareness because doctor visits and physical therapy appointments can consume so much of our time.
We are called upon to find equally time-consuming and available activities to amuse ourselves and hopefully discover that others, who come into our circle of life, find them more interesting as topics of conversation than miscellaneous ailments or the weather.
My question often is, where — living in the country, as we do in one way or another, to one degree or another — do we find interesting activity and fascinating entertainment to stimulate, enliven, and enrich our lives so that we remain delightful, socially viable, important parts of our community?
As responsible adults, it’s part of our duty, our job, our responsibility, to remain interesting and interested in the world around us as much as we can.
(While I am writing this on my new-fangled computer, the machine is struggling to finish words and sentences for me, and I have yet to figure out how to shut off that feature. The machine thinks — well, not really thinks but assumes — that it knows exactly what I’m going to say and even when it guesses correctly, I refuse to let it finish the word. I’m like a little kid, first learning to use a spoon, saying, “I do it,” scooping up a bit of lettering into forming a sentence and offering it now to you. I don’t want interference.)
When I first came back to live in the country 25, 30 years ago, family members still were living in Ramona. They had learned how to occupy themselves in a small town where entertainment is not right around the corner.
My friends who live in more populated areas talk to me of going to the theater, going out to eat, or meeting with a book club. And I find myself wishing that such entertainment were closer at hand for us.
When you live in a rural area, traveling to find cultural enrichment is essential, but then again, it could be just around the corner.
My Aunt Naomi knew this instinctively. She used to get in her car and “travel” around town for entertainment, checking to see whether anyone was doing something interesting that she could muse over and perhaps find useful as a conversation starter when she met friends for coffee.
Had David erected something new in his yard? Had Jakie fallen off his ladder cleaning the eaves? Had all the lawns been mowed recently? Was anyone’s car parked somewhere new?
Aunt Naomi mowed her own lawn on a riding mower into her 80s. I can understand the thrill. I, too, find mowing to be one of my favorite forms of entertainment. Perhaps it’s genetic.
Mowing, for me, is capital entertainment. It improves the look of things as well as pleases me and leaves me with a grand feeling of accomplishing something worthwhile.
In my dad’s book of things to do, “recreation,” synonymous with entertainment, became “re-creation,” meaning to make new.
He’d go on espousing to anyone who’d listen that work was the perfect form of entertainment. That was not my favorite solution to the problem of boredom as a teenager.
Uncle Hank grew a pot of tomatoes on his front porch, mostly for entertainment, and competed with Betty every summer to see who could grow the first and biggest tomato in town.
His wife, a born historian, collected newspaper clippings, photographs, and all sorts of memorabilia that were immensely entertaining to sort through.
She spent hours organizing “this and that” books that still are called into usage when we want to verify some family story. She entertained herself and still entertains us with her collection of artifacts and stories.
These relatives were my examples in navigating life.
My grandson introduced me to daily puzzles available with a free app from the New York Times.
I’d read about this game called Wordle that “everyone” seemed to be playing on a daily basis. With my contrary bent, I ignored finding out about the game, just because everyone was doing it — and then here it was available on the daily Times puzzles. I tried it and I’m hooked. It’s very entertaining.
This week, I’ve been entertaining myself by repainting an old table and chairs in use on my porch.
It was so rickety I almost threw the table away, but I took pity, tightened a few screws, applied a little elbow grease and a bit of paint, and made it into a topic of inspiration and even conversation on another day in the country.