Diary of a Septuagenarian
Quit Yapping About Your Lack of Freedom
A Naturist’s Journal 12 — Defining freedom
I hear so much about freedom, so many people ranting that they aren’t free. Why they are so angry and vocal about their lives has nothing to do with freedom. A close look at their diatribes will show that in anything, they are hell-bent on limiting the freedoms of other people, especially the LGBTQ+ community, women in general, and BIPOC.
I know that I have freedom. I easily pass as white though much darker than other white folk in my community. I don’t go to any church and I don’t have the community ready to chase me out of town. It helps that I have a wife and not a husband, though that wouldn’t really matter in the bigger picture of life in a small town.
I don’t have a lot to report as life is being lived in the “normal” lane, at least normal for me. Free-hiking is on hold, likely for a few more days because of weather, chores, and expected company.
So what does my normal look like? Well, watering the garden is done au naturel as you can see in this photo. Because we live in a semi-desert climate with not much rain, we conserve as much water as we can, and that includes bathwater and water we use for rinsing dishes.
Our garden, especially the hostas, the strawberries, and the roses are thankful for it. We also collect as much rainwater as we can in 45 gallon drums and 20 gallon buckets for the main garden. That water is much better for the gardens than tap water. Still, when necessary, we don’t hesitate to attach the hose and water the garden when all the other water is used up.
Barbequing is also done in the buff when outdoors. I have two barbeques, the propane-fueled BBQ and a new Traeger [wood-smoke] BBQ. Last night, it was burgers cooked on my old BBQ, on the menu.
Sometimes we just sit on our deck and enjoy the sound of the birds that find our backyard an enjoyable place to be. It’s also a place where we talk and share our thoughts, events of the day that have occurred, or simply just relaxing.
There are no rules when one is a senior citizen. With age comes freedom, well as much freedom as we allow ourselves and each other. The need to control the other or be controlled by others is rejected as we both find our own comfort zones. For me that means freedom from clothing as much as possible and practical.
Of course, there are limits as we do live in a community which has written and unwritten rules for its members if one is to be accepted. Since we have no desire to be run out of town, when “others” are in the scene my clothes suddenly reappear on my body. I think of them as camouflage, a costume and disguise to hide the real me.
Now, for some great reads for you to peruse: