One day, I woke up and realized I was a stick in the mud, into quiet pleasures, folk lore, history, outdoors things like hiking and shooting sports, sex and smexy stories that are pretty tame by some comparison, and married to a man who has a similar outlook. To an outsider my life probably seems boring.
But then I realized, I was happy, so I decided not to be ashamed of the quietness of my life. Contentment with who you are and compassion on the others sharing this globe seem to be the two things that matter from where I sit. I don't mind any more if I go down forgotten like most of us will. I like the things I've done, and where I've been. I have left, and continue to try to leave a trail of warm fuzzies behind me. Let them laugh when I buy a new .22 or a bow or a volume of the Cambridge Medieval History. Or decide to learn another antique skill. I don't care if my rich uncle thinks I'm weird.
Peace and contentment are worth a lot.