Another Birthday

Another birthday has come and gone. The date on the calendar verifies the fact that I'm a year older but I don't look or feel any differently. I keep telling myself it's just a number and the older I become, the more I realize this to be true. It just so happened that this year my birthday fell on the same day as the monthly gathering of our naturist group. What perfect timing! A party of sorts to which I could wear my birthday suit. These get-togethers are usually potluck in nature. This time, however, all food was provided and if desired, the contribution of a bottle of wine would be most welcome. The meal's theme was Spanish so we chose a Spanish wine to share. Neither my husband or I had ever tasted any kind of Spanish wine before. My husband chose the bottle and I'm pretty sure his selection was based on the attractive label and midline price. He's more wine savvy than I but this was unknown territory. Guess what? It was wonderful; we will have to experiement with some more of them.

The weather these past few days has been rather sketchy, not very August-like at all. Extremely cool mornings have been greeting us upon awakening and the grey skies and low fog have been hanging about in a most dreary fashion until early afternoon. Today's function began at 12 noon and as we were heading there around noonish, the sun began to peek through and the skies began to clear. Our destination was a home of the founding member of our group who lives out in the country, high up upon a hilltop. The temperature was perfect and the sun shone down on all of us seated around the deck with the perfect degree of warmth. I knew if I left the sunscreen home, sunshine would prevail. It never fails!

Excellent food, exquisite wine and great camaraderie That's what this birthday was all about. The nicest thing was that there were four new people in attendance that we'd never met before. Two men and two women, all of whom arrived separately. Such nice people and such a treat to meet and talk to some new folks. One of the men had a lilting accent that I soon discovered was a charming leftover from his originally hailing from the Yorkshire region in northern England. After much chit-chat, a plateful of great good and a glass of wine or two, this fellow inquired if anyone liked to play cards. My antennae perked up instantly; I enjoy card games very much and used to know how to play quite a few. These days the only card game played at our house is cribbage. This is a fun game and I love to play it with either my husband or son but it's always nice to learn something new. This man was going to teach us how to play Kaluki. Ever hear of it? I never did and it sounds like a game from the islands, doesn't it? It's played with two decks, including the jokers and I played enough practice rounds with the other newcomers to the game to know that if I could get everything straight in my head, it would be a great game. He promised to bring the cards next time and we would take another stab at the game.

Our host and his wife were playing as a team. We laughed when he noted that the card game naturists usually play is "Put Your Clothes Back On" poker. First one completely dressed is outta there! This is one of those statements where you probably had to be there to appreciate the humor but it struck us all as extremely funny. We had such fun and I wondered why we don't play board games, Scrabble, Sorry and such when we do get together because we all seem to be the kind of people who would enjoy doing this. Perhaps this little card game will act as a catalyst to get some other kind of game going next time.

We returned home around 6pm or so and shortly after that my daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter stopped by with some cards, some gifts and a birthday carrot cake. My son was at work and had presented me with his gifts earlier in the morning. Nice. Very nice. My last couple of birthdays have been highly involved, grandiose affairs (to help this poor woman get over the 50-year mark and beyond). I made it to 52 with little effort and this year's celebration was mellow, laid back and just right in every way. Happy Birthday to me!

A Birthday Entry

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Those of us who have children know that the lifelong journey of parenting is full of trials and successes, tribulations and joy. Each of us has our own criteria of what qualities make us a good parent. It’s a difficult, full time job that comes with no directions and no training manual. Our memories of our own upbringing by our parents are generally the basic guidelines for how we go about guiding our children.

I recently received an e-mail from my daughter which revealed that I had achieved a major success in raising a child who grew up into an adult able to see past the parent to the individual who existed before the title of "Mom" was bestowed upon her. Today is my birthday. I am 52 years old today and while I don’t believe this essay written by my daughter was intended as a gift, I regard it as such and wish to share it with you:

Mom, I took a few minor liberties with the story, but this is something I wrote, and I thought that you might be at least amused by it. I wrote it several times over, but this is the draft that really moved me. You know you have written something good, when it makes you the writer teary eyed:

" The Legacy of my Mother"

How will you be remembered when you are older? Do you have a legacy that you will pass on? A talent, a claim to fame? Is there a picture of you that captures you for what you are, that you hope will retain your youth? If so, what would you be doing in it?

In my parents room, I noticed a picture recently that I had never seen before. It was a recent photo of my mother, taken by my father at the springs resort that they enjoy so much. My parents are occasional naturists, mostly on weekend endeavors and vacations. This framed photo was from one of these such excursions. My mother is sitting by a little pool or pond of sorts, with a bunch of reed type plants behind her. She is sitting sideways, with her knees drawn up to her chest, and her arms about her knees. She has her face turned towards the viewer. It is clear that she is sans clothing, but nothing is revealed. It is a very beautiful picture of a vivacious, fun spirited, fit 50 year old lady of grace. She has a coy smile on her face, and a slight twinkle in her eye, I know my father had just said something to make her laugh, she looks very nymph like. She is in a pose you would expect to find someone painting her in. It is a gorgeous picture. I commented on it to her.

My mother, who works in the elderly care field, often sees photos of young lovers, whom are now aged and wrinkled in their twighlight years. Pictures of once prom queens, now in arthritic pain. Pictures of young girls with pigtails, who are now called ma‘am. My mother takes the picture down and tells me, if she is ever in a nursing home, this is the picture she wants on her nightstand. This is the "self" she wishes to portray to the world. She wants people to look at her and wonder if that gorgeous woman is the one that they see before them, and she will smile knowing such a nymph like woman is still inside the elderly one. I can never see my mother in a nursing home. She, and my father will live with me if ever the time comes. But this picture will endure. This legacy will be the one my mother passes on. I have visions of my own daughter showing it to her children years after my mother, the subject, and my father the photographer have passed. At that point I myself will be an elderly lady, and I will hear my daughter say "this is your great Gramma M, isn’t she beautiful, she was a very adventurous spirit".

An Excursion of Naturistic Proportions

Ah, vacation; long months of planning and anticipation, the sweet arrival of the day of departure. Now begins the actual stretch of time where the days languidly melt into one another. Time becomes irrelevant and knowledge of the actual day and date slips way back into the furthermost recesses of consciousness. Then, zap! before you know it, it's all over and it's life in the real world once more.

We recently returned from a vacation spent at two separate locations. We visited two clothing-optional resorts which were at totally opposite ends of the spectrum of the nude experience. It was amazing. Who'd have thought two places where the majority of people go about pursuing their choices of relaxing activities sans clothing could be so different? But they were.

We spent the first half of our holiday at our favorite hot springs. I've written much about this magical place in past entries. The visitors there are laid back, liberal, sometimes philosophical and occasionally artsy-fartsy. The guests at the second place we went to were, for the most part, simply fartsy...as in old fart(sy). After much discussion we decided we should perhaps branch out a bit and check out a different clothing-optional place. I'm not sure what we were expecting but I don't think it was what we encountered; a large group of folks whose accumulated age averaged out to around 70! The age group at the Springs ranges from 18 to late seventies. The group of people at the new place was as right-wing, God Bless America (and no one else!), George W. fans as you could possibly imagine. It was as if we'd been magically transported into an imaginary future in the "King of the Hill" animated series to hang out with "the boys" and every other one was very much like Dale, the paranoid exterminator. The chit-chat never seemed to vary from what kind of RV so and so had along with a boring running commentary on all the other resorts all over the country that were...Just Like This! I believe I just might've sampled my first "Twilight Zone" experience. And all this, a mere two and a half hours from where we live. I'm exaggerating, of course, but you get the picture.

The Springs is a retreat comprised of 27 acres for naturists to step away from the world and reflect upon nature, themselves and how the two can truly complement each other. There are several cabins, a rustic lodge housing a communal kitchen and dining room and a few campsites for walk-in tent camping only. There's a steam room, sauna, cool pool, an old-time redwood hot tub and four private tubs for individual soaking. Mineral water smelling faintly of sulpher flows into all of these. This place is situated in a small, narrow valley. There are no radios, no phones, no newspapers, no TVs and cell phones simply do not work. Pure, unadulterated bliss.

The new (to us) place was a resort for nudists to sun, soak, play tennis, billiards, dance, play bocce ball, shuffleboard, eat meals in a restaurant or belly up to the bar stark naked. There were three chlorine-scented swimming pools and two jacuzzis, a boutique to visit and pedal boats to putz about on the lake (which nobody stepped foot into). This resort encompassed 250 acres on which was parked a sea of RVs, campers, trailers and stationery mobile homes with sweet little green lawns in front and all the kitschy decorating paraphernalia you could ever want to see. Many of these folks spend the better part of the year here and some live here year round.

Overall, we had a glorious time at both places luxuriating in a continuous cycle of sunning, soaking, swimming, sex, snoozing, sleeping, sex and feasting upon fantastic meals while sipping an array of exquisite wines. It was, in a word, Sensational. Would I like to return to the activity-filled resort populated by folks nearing the age of those I assist in my workplace each day? Probably not but now I can say I've been there and if ever I wish to return someday, I know how to get there. In the future, I'll be more than happy to spend an au natural vacation at the Springs. I always suspected it was the greatest place on earth. Now I'm sure.

A Naturist and her Cat

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Once the hot weather arrives, my husband and I have been known to succumb to our naturistic tendencies when safely ensconced within the house. Offspring are given fair warning: stay away, Mom and Dad are cruising around the homestead in the altogether. No worries there. My son will remove himself as far away from the house as possible and my daughter abstains from dropping in on the way to her home just up the hill.

This summer, however, something new has been added to the mix. A pet with sharp teeth and even sharper claws. I speak of none other than our beautiful cat, Finnegan. Just how is the combination of naked flesh and kitty talons going to play out? I have to admit to some concern about this. No matter how gentle and well mannered their cat is, all owners carry scars resulting from a startle or a missed jump from here to there with their hapless human caught in the middle. Then there's the matter of kitty snuggling down in his human's lap for a, what else? Cat nap! Now, I'm the only one whose lap Finn employs for such purposes. I like to think it's because of my charming personality and his undying affection for me. I strongly suspect it's because I'm the only one in the house who actually creates a lap when seated. The men in the house are too concerned and protective (and rightly so) of those items located below the lap to relax enough to form one that might entice a....kitty.

I think I've been getting a preview of how our cat will deal with his humans in the flesh. I usually sleep without nightclothes and often Finnegan sleeps in close proximity to me. When he awakens and desires a nocturnal visit, he perches on my chest and peers down at me, vulturelike, until I wake up to say hello. To hasten my ascent from peaceful sleep, he pats my cheek or gives me little kisses (licks) on the cheek or ear. The claws stay sheathed and it seems as if the less clothing I have on, the more careful he is to use only the pads of his feet. It's as if he automatically knows that he has to be more careful. It reminds me of how animals react when we're sad, sick or infirm. They have this innate sense of knowing when to tread lightly, literally and figuratively.

I'm hoping his caution will continue. I do not wish to arrive at my vacation destination about five weeks from now covered in cat scratches. That just would not do!

 

 

Bliss

Human beings to me are as much a part of nature as trees or birds, and the unclothed body expresses this belongingness directly and powerfully.
Wynn Bullock

Despite continued threats of clouds and rain, Sunday broke forth in a glorious blaze of blue skies, sun and high, fluffy clouds. It had been our wish to escape to our beloved Springs for the past couple of weeks but ominous weather predictions held us at bay. We finally got to the point where we firmly decided that no matter what the predicted forecast was, we were going.

Once again, we invited my friend from work to join us and she eagerly accepted. Once there, she takes off on an entirely different direction; specifically, she takes herself away for long walks. She feels a great need to be "at one" with the terra firma and this place is an excellent choice to pursue that endeavor. My darling and I? Just point us to the steam room and the promise of a refreshing, soul-cleansing submersion into a cool pool of spring-fed water and we’re happy. Our friend is constantly on the move; we are more stationary once settled with our books and appreciative looks between each other.

We treat the Springs as if it’s our gift to bestow upon those who are worthy. It’s such a marvelous place to share with someone we’re very sure will enjoy it. A day at the Springs isn’t for everybody. A great many people we care for wouldn’t understand our love affair with the place. It’s a haven for dreamers, those who are willing and wish to step away from their worries and cares and lose themselves in a soothing atmosphere of peace and quiet amidst gardens, saunas, hot tubs and steam. The Springs is for soul searching, introspection and an opportunity to simply revel in the sheer joy of existence. It helps to be somewhat of a hedonist as well.

A Bit of Introspection

Title:  Nymph of The River

Artist: Frederic, Lord Leighton

I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked.
Walt Whitman

Now that I’ve explored this naturist way of life for several years, I have to stop and ask myself, am I really a naturist in the truest sense of the word?  In all honesty I would say no, I’m not.  I dabble in it and remain on the fringe of a completely dedicated naturist lifestyle.  Then I ask myself why I continue with even this much participation.  It’s interesting, it’s fun, it doesn’t hurt anyone and it’s just enough off center of the norm to make me feel as if I’m doing something a little wild and crazy.  I am not a "wild and crazy" type by nature and this is just the ticket for me.

My husband and I are what I would call fair weather naturists.  We pretty much come out to play the naturist game during the warm months of the year.  This makes sense to me.  With the arrival of the nicer weather I find myself having to work a bit (both mentally and physically) to get back in the proper mind frame of naturism.  I don’t think my husband goes through anything like this.  He’s ready to shed his clothes in the twinkling of an eye, usually his, directed at me.  What kind of man is it anyway who wants to show off his naked wife to other people?  I choose to think that it’s a very happy, slightly smug man who wants to show off to the world who he has as a playmate, lover and true companion.  I am all these things and more to my husband.  Should I be surprised he wants to share his favorite person in such a manner every now and then? Somehow, I don’t think so.  In fact, it pleases me.  Look out world, here we come!

Reality Check

I suppose we acquire most of our feelings about our bodies too early, and in ways too complicated, to make them easy to account for.
Charis Wilson

The sun has begun to spread its warm rays across the land more and more, the daylight is lasting longer. And so it is time for part-time naturists like me to prepare for the worst, face the music and check out what’s been hiding under those sweaters, sweatshirts and loose-fitting pants that I’ve been wearing these past winter months. It’s time to take a deep breath and really look at myself, naked, in the mirror to assess the damage done by a seemingly continuous holiday assembly line of good food, festive drinks and sinful desserts.

It’s awfully easy to lose sight of one’s shape when it’s been under wraps for months. I’ve been putting this reality check off for some time. After three years of whipping myself into shape in a major fashion and denying myself all and anything that hinted at containing extra fat and empty calories, I broke down. I indulged in food groups I’d almost forgotten existed. It was wonderful but I knew the time would come to pay the price for this backslide. I am a relatively short, middle-aged, mid menopausal woman. There’s nowhere for any extra pounds to go but around my middle; the laws of gravity don’t help one bit either. Yes, I know, the human form is beautiful and not one of us should be self-conscious or ashamed of how we look. I, however, am supremely self-image/body conscious. I can’t help it; this is how I am. If I’m going to enjoy participating in any kind of naturist activity, I have to be in the best shape I can be.

I took a deep breath, I looked...time for action all right...time for setting aside time each day for an exercise program with a bit of structure and sticking with it. Time for free weights, we call them "Tom". Makes them seem a bit more friendly this way. I’ve employed many different kinds of exercise techniques over the years with success but this time I’m trying the most basic, accessible means of exercise there is; namely, walking. I live in a very walker-friendly town and so far I’m three weeks into an almost daily 30 minute plus walk.

I used to obsess with numbers on a scale not so long ago. These days I rarely check out my weight. How my clothes fit (or don’t), how I feel and what my reflection tells me is all I need to know. A number on a scale doesn’t mean much. It’s more how that number is packaged. The bad news is I’m guessing I need to shed about eight to ten pounds. It just wouldn’t do to have a rotund SpringsNymph prancing around the place. The good news is this is definitely an attainable goal and should be easily achieved by the time the really warm weather arrives. My husband and I are planning a vacation of a naturist bent later this year and what better incentive than this?

A Long Absent Naturist's Return (Long term, I hope)

The best dress for walking is nakedness. But our sad though fascinating world rarely offers the right and necessary combinations of weather and privacy, and even when it does the Utopia never seems to last very long.
Colin Fletcher, The Complete Walker III

The last gathering we attended of our naturist group was back in January. There’s usually a get-together once a month but we were unable to attend the next two. April’s pot-luck/gathering/social event took place yesterday. After an extended period of unsettled weather, the sun was most cooperative and shone down on us kindly as we basked like lizards on the deck in our (mostly) winter-white skins, eagerly soaking it up. It never occurs to me to think of sun block in the middle of April. I don’t think I got burnt but I’m feeling a little warm glow warning me I’d better not forget to apply some next time.

It was nice to get together again. I hadn’t seen some of these folks for quite some time due to conflicting schedules, illnesses and such. This time around the potluck was assigned a theme; Italian. You know what that means. Pasta in every way, shape and form. Not a problem for me, I could eat that stuff every day. As usual, everything was tasty and highly caloric. Cheese always seems to figure largely at these functions and if there’s one thing I try to stay away from it’s cheese. I love it but it’s not too great for someone with a cholesterol problem with which I am afflicted, most unfortunately! With so much good food around, I don’t throw caution to the wind entirely at these events but I do try to keep it tethered!

The usual crowd was there. No new faces to be seen and this is our major dilemma. We need more members to flesh (!) out our group but none seem to be forthcoming. Early this summer an annual Health and Harmony Fair is going to take place at our county’s main fairgrounds. We’re making plans to set up and man a booth to promote some much needed awareness of our group. This should prove most interesting because it’s extremely important that the right message comes across that conveys what we’re all about. Naturism is a touchy subject which needs to be handled with kid gloves. Hmm...a naturist sporting kid gloves; that would make an interesting picture, don’t you think?

I'm Back!

Yes, I’m back. After a seven week, self-imposed sabbatical, don’t you think it’s time?

This past Sunday my husband and I made our first visit of the year to the beautiful hot spring location we love so much. It would be wonderful to make this a monthly habit but that never seems to be a plan we can count on. We brought a guest along with us this time; a woman with whom I work who, I discovered much to my delight, is a kindred spirit of the naturist persuasion. She is the activity director at the facility where I work; an occupation with challenges that cry out for the soothing, peaceful balm the Springs offer.

We drove up together in our car, enjoyed a nice visit during the ride and then went our separate ways until lunchtime. It’s difficult to imagine even wanting to go to a place like this in the middle of January only to remove your clothing knowing full well that the sole time you’ll be indoors is for a meal. The human body adapts amazingly well to tolerating cooler temperatures and, after all, this is California. It isn’t a case of standing knee deep, naked, in snowy, 30 degree weather.

There’s an incredible beauty to the Springs in the winter which is hard to describe. You can be sure all the warm spots are eagerly sought out. The steam room and sauna are fuller than usual. The private tubs (nice roomy tubs with enough room for two to lounge comfortably) are usually all occupied. The big communal hot tub and the smaller pool into which it overflows are full to capacity. It’s all very cozy and companionable and it doesn’t seem to matter at all that the skies are grey, rain is imminent and the usual colorful explosion of flora is absent. There are many pine and bay trees, green and fragrant and they are pleasing to see. There’s something very satisfying about sitting or lying in a small body of water, the steam rising into the cool air surrounding you; you’re on low simmer and it feels so indulgently good.

We always bring our books to read but more often than not, they never even make it out of the backpack. There’s too much to look at, too much to listen to, to much to talk or daydream about. After a few hours of these dreamy pleasantries, stomachs begin to growl. It’s time for lunch and lunch at the Springs for us is a treat beyond words but I’ll try.

My husband prepares for Springs visits ahead of time and had stashed away in the freezer a goodly amount of a wonderful soup he made recently for a future visit. Soup, bread and wine was the order of the day. My husband took himself away to the communal kitchen in the lodge and worked some of his magic. By the time he rounded up our guest and me to announce that it was time to eat, we were met with a table completely set for the meal, bread sliced, soup heated, wine on table with mankind’s greatest invention close at hand, wine glasses, red seedless grapes in a bowl. Awesome! The man was in his true element of providing and setting out a minor feast and basking in our appreciation of same. Damn, he’s good at this--a master.

We had a long, leisurely meal and after cleaning up, returned to the waters for a few more hours’ enjoyment. The time to depart this magical place is always earlier in the winter months to ensure a safe drive home in relative daylight. The road to the Springs is one I don’t wish to travel in the dark and more often than not, I am the one who drives home. It’s so hard to tear ourselves away from here. We want to stay forever. As the car climbs the first hill traveling away from the Springs, I’m already thinking and looking forward to our next visit. I hope it’s soon.