Journal Entry From May 8th, 2025
Today’s steps for the 2 laps around Havenly were 2,771. Hm. To get 10,000 steps I’d need to go around about 7.2 times. I’ll work up to it. Temperatures will be high for the next few days.
On my walk, I heard stones being walked on. Crunch, crunch. The area around each house is covered with stones and some of them are actually kind of beautiful.
When I got closer to the sound, it was a woman walking a couple of steps in front of her house, a watering can in her hand. She bent over to water the plants, like the grassy-looking thing in front of my house — desert plants that grow here and don’t need much water. But I admired the woman for caring about the plants in front of her house. In fact, seeing another human being out and about here made me feel happy. It’s a new community and for the first many months I lived here, I rarely saw anyone at all. Here, at last, was a human. Yay! She never looked up or I would have said hello.
Further on I passed a woman with an awkward gait as she headed towards the dog park (newly opened this month) with two little dogs (on leashes – yes). Later, on my next lap, I saw her pulling a wheeled suitcase-looking thing towards her car. Maybe she’s a teacher. Yet further on, around the corner, I saw a youngish man walking away from his house (it’s only a few steps from front doors to parked cars here). He was wearing a day pack on his back. Perhaps a teacher or student or lawyer? I heard a sound from the door he’d come out of and it was still open. A woman and a little child were there and the child began to cry. The young man said, “See you when I get back, Birdie” and I wondered if he meant after his hike or after his day at work or when he’s in town next time. After the woman closed the door, the child still cried. I could be wrong, but I sensed sadness there. More than from just the little child.
A little farther along, I saw a woman sitting on a bench in the dog park. A small, dark haired dog sniffed the ground. Every time I pass another house, the same house, (yesterday and today) I smell marijuana. Another house has a lot of clutter on the front porch. A chest freezer, a bunch of metal sheets, an old sign for a business. It made me wonder if someone had been evicted. A bit away from the clutter was a dead bonsai tree, still in its planter. Made me sad.
Another house has what might be a basket or bin outside the door, full of stuff, and a pair of colorful rubber boots lying on the porch. One boot standing and the other laying on its side. As I continued on I heard dogs barking from behind closed doors or from the walled courtyards. I heard someone using a saw. Sounded like wood was being cut. I thought that was cool, picturing someone building something for their house. All of the houses are close together, each with its own courtyard. When you go for a walk you are really only passing within maybe eight or ten feet of each house. I don’t know why, but I love that. I love this little community and its people. It kind of reminds me of some other places I’ve been where the houses were very close, like this, and people sat outside on their porches and talked and waved at everyone who passed by. Some houses here do have porches, but I’ve never seen anyone sitting on one or anyone waving at any passers-by. Maybe I’ll become one.
On my second time around the community I came to the house where I’d heard the saw. A man outside that house was trying to get some pallets out of his car. I don’t know where my courage came from, but I actually asked the man if he was building something. I wondered if this is what being old is like – asking questions of strangers. The man was really nice and stopped to explain. He said he likes to go camping and it’s very expensive to get wood for a campfire, so he gets pallets and cuts them up for firewood. This time the pallets were wedged so tight in the back of his vehicle that he was having to cut them out.
Anyways, it was a wonderful walk. I did see the man with the pallets on another walk and he said he got them out and all cut up. “Good job” I told him. On other day’s I’ve actually seen other people walking and got to chat with them for a bit. There’s Jeanie, 82, with a daughter here in this same community. Amy, who is in her fifties and a grandmother, with children a mile away. And an elderly one-armed man who is 92, very kind, and walks the perimeter of the community, on the outside of the wall rather than within the wall. He was at one of the community functions a while back. We all made posters and at the end we were asked to tell about our favorite thing on our poster. He said his was the picture that we’d cut out because it was something we’d loved and done for the longest. He told us that it was being married. His wife has passed away, but they were married for XX years (I can’t remember the number, but it was a very big number). Jeanie uses the treadmill in the exercise room if it’s too hot to walk outside. It was so nice meeting other humans here. Made it feel a bit more like a real community.
Yesterday (this is still my journal entry, mind you) I got my hair cut. $20. Shampoo and cut. A black man in a t-shirt and work boots washed my hair. He did a great job. Jake. In a band – Motown kind of band. Jenny and Jake. Married. A daughter in the military eight years now. Proud parents. Christians. Recommended a movie playing in theaters to me. A Marvel movie.
– End of journal entry –
These experiences were so good for my soul. I felt less isolated and less like a stranger. I’d have to say, however, that the thing that made me decide to spend some time here is the way this place is both unique, exciting, new-to-me, and yet as if I’ve lived here all my life.
Present Day – It’s going to be 98 today. Every day I say I’m going to head over to the storage place and check on my camper. Every day I end up not going, saying its too hot – that I’ll go in the morning when its still cool. But every morning I lollygag (spend time aimlessly or idle, the dictionary says) and then its late and its hot out again. When I went outside to take the picture of the stones, I saw the one armed man out walking and I came inside intending to walk some laps and go see my camper…but my Fitbit battery was dead. I don’t really wear it anymore. In fact I’m trying to spend a LOT less time using my phone or my Fitbit or any of my technology. More time reading, walking, drawing, and napping. Is that also a sign that I’m old? Yikes! SO! I didn’t go anywhere. Maybe later. Snicker, snicker! Or not.
