When I set out to learn about my mother's bridge club, the Jewish octogenarians behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, their gen, and the ragged path that led me back to my mother.I don’t garden, cook, crochet, scrapbook, take photographs, do crossword puzzles, no birding, boating, butterflying, biking or hiking. I like to take walks, go to movies, poke around bookstores and antique stores. I like to scroll. Writing is pretty much all I do. Sometimes I think this is tremendous focus on my part. I’ve been known to spend 12 hours at my desk, happy as a mollusk. Other times, I think I am hugely missing out on life. I mean I know how to walk down a beach, appreciate a sunset or moonrise. Oh, almost forgot, I love to people watch. Could sit on a city bench and do that ALL day. I don’t like to bake but I’m good at it. I’m good at plucking eyebrows. Is that a hobby? Oh, for god’s sake, I play bridge, though I haven’t played since covid. Thank you for reminding me. I guess what I’m saying is I’d rather be writing.
Do you have any hobbies?
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Betsy Lerner 
Writing is high on my list of priorities. And then there’:s:
Guitar — I love making noise.
Gardening — vegetables at this time of year are in abundance. .My horn of plenty is full of garlic, greens, radishes, tomatoes, beans and peas.
SUP — Not much; ‘Sup with you?
Telling bad jokes — see SUP above,
Your words are my hobby.
Reading, writing, and learning. I also like movies. Going to readings and lectures, which are part of reading and learning, but more social.
“Do you have any hobbies?”
No. When I interviewed for my present job, one of the partners asked me, “What are your hobbies?” I had never been asked that before. I was new to this part of the country (the Midwest) and I thought the question a reflection of the region — men had hobbies up here, they worked all day in the office suing poor people, or in the factory hanging doors on cars, or in the slaughterhouse draining the blood from pigs, then they went home to their hobbies, drinking beer, yelling at the teevee, hiding in the basement and playing with model trains, impaling butterflies on pins — and I didn’t know what to say. Was this a trick question? I made something up, or rather, snatched something from some other part of the dumpster fire of life, and told him, “Well, reading, I like to read, and writing, I do some writing, too.”
But, come on! Anyone who is a writer knows, reading and writing aren’t hobbies. There are no hobbies. Who has time for that? We read and we write. Those aren’t hobbies. Those are the terms of our sentences — life at hard words.
Feeding your interests feeds the soul.
Writing is like fishing. Casting the line is as noble as landing the fish.
I can’t say what I do aside from writing/reading are hobbies, but more of “okay I need to do this b/c it’s good for me.” So, I ride a bike strictly for exercise. Running. This is something I miss. I used to be a “big” runner, as in running road races, etc. That has been sidelined due to health, but I still get out and walk/run.
My husband likes to plant tomatoes and peppers, and I like to do a few potted flowers – but gardening? Real gardening? No – I’ll see you at the vegetable/fruit area in the grocery store.
I recently moved back upstairs – to my real office – where I spent countless hours between 1998 – 2012 teleworking for the bread and butter paycheck, getting my degree, and writing my debut. (background – lost our little dog recently and I worked downstairs while we had him as it was easier to take him out, etc)
I can already tell being sequestered in this quiet, private space could become a problem (as in the 12 hour thing) since I’ve started thinking about getting a mini-fridge, and a one cup Keurig.
Oh I’m so glad you asked this question. Nope. None. Zip. Nada. Rien. No mah jongg. Once upon a time bridge. Don’t play bunko. Can’t draw. The lady down the lane knits, crochets, bakes, bakes bread (bread!), raises orchids, yada yada. Once upon a time I loved to cook, entertain. What’s wrong with me? Why so I eschew these things? I’m boring, a bore.
Well, yes, I exercise. Walk. Swim. Bike. But see? I’m a loner. Once I get some movement out of the way, and the obligatory phone calls, I’d rather be by me, myself, and I–a screen before me, a book at the ready.
Reading is my sport but good brow plucking is my aspiration.
I garden like my life depends on it. I’m not sure if you call that a hobby or not.
Hell no.