Month: February 2019

Learning to relax

I’m bummed so far less than a handful of people are taking a chance on my free art. Alas, perhaps this is the life of a struggling artist. I suspect it’s more of the case: cannabis – they’re just not into you. Please be patient. Next on the docket: Art Chokes.

Maybe because I live in the West Coast bubble, I forget cannabis isn’t widely accepted. Not gonna decorate your house with it. Using cannabis wisely is part of our lifestyle. Not everyone’s, for sure. If I want to give away cannabis art, I suspect I’ll have to cast a wider net.

What’s the alternative to giving it away? I’m a beginning crafter, so I have no illusions about making any money. But I’ve discovered making art (or something like it) relaxes me. My sweet Dale set up a CD player and speakers for me out in the garage, where I’ve been working. I hung a pretty wind chime that’s too loud for the yard.

Writing is as good a hobby as any, but I can’t write and listen to music. Working on craft projects and amping up the tunes is bliss. Long-term plan is to keep pursuing all creative endeavors. Add that to cooking, walking and golf – and my retirement dance card is filling up quickly.

I have a few tiles completed. I’m getting better at the image transfer process and have been scoping out thrift shops for other potential substrates. So far, I bought an old wooden cutting board and a metal tray. Prices vary considerably among the stores – I thought Goodwill was the most expensive of the bunch.

Looks like I’m not going to stop, so what do I do with all this stuff? I know there are artists and crafters out there who create all the time. Any ideas?

As to the value of all this, I’ve always been a wound-up person. Dale said yesterday he has seen a huge change in me since I retired. I’m way more relaxed about everything. It’s true, and I sometimes wonder if my former colleagues would read about my life and feel sorry for me. Oh, Donna, not the power player. Writing that bloggy thing! Doing crafts! Smoking pot!

Yes, happily. I’m proud to have worked hard for a living, and I am exceedingly grateful to have made enough and saved enough money to quit. Once you have enough to get by without a job, time becomes more important than money or stuff.

I still have a long way to go. My temper flares over stupid things. Dale said, well, yeah, but consider how long you worked in that pressure cooker. You’ve only been retired a year and a half, and look how far you’ve come. Give it time.

Is he the Yin to my Yang, or is it the other way around?

A free cannabis gift that isn’t cannabis

Well, I said I was experimenting with art, and I meant it! My first independent project is making rustic 4×4 slate tiles using my blog tagline.

Health Happiness Cannabis

The theme is important to me. As a two-time cancer survivor and refugee from a workaholic corporate culture, I wanted to spend the rest of my life focusing on health and happiness. For me, and I know for many others, using cannabis therapeutically is nothing short of miraculous. I microdose daily for post-mastectomy pain, anxiety and overall well-being.

I love how the tile turned out. I’m continuing to experiment, but in the meantime, I thought it would be fun to give it away! I know not all readers are cannabis users, but maybe you have a friend who might enjoy this small gift.

Here’s how it works (I think). Please leave a comment on this post. You don’t have to say anything other than hello, if you don’t want to. I’ll number the comments in the order they arrive. First one posted is number 1, second is number 2, etc. Next Monday, March 4 at 9 a.m. Pacific, I will tally them up and use a random number generator on the Internet to select the winner.

Once the winner has been selected, I’ll do a post, and you can contact me with mailing instructions. Oh, the mini-easel is not included. You can buy them all over the place, including Amazon, Target or Michaels.

Art for late bloomers

Many retirees seek creative outlets, and I’m on board with finding my inner artist. I’ve never been interested in visual arts, but why not give it a try? If not now, when? I took a class in mask-making and wrote about it here. I was not having fun.

We left our painted masks behind for a run in the kiln and later received an email they were ready for pick-up. I almost didn’t go. I told Dale I would retrieve it only because that hideous thing was probably part of the master plan to teach me some sort of lesson. I really said that. Dale went with me and stayed safe in the car while I went inside.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. It looked like art! My crazy little guy kitty looks like art! I pulled him out of my bag when I got back to the car, fully expecting Dale to find the whole thing utterly amusing. He was beaming. “Wow, this is so cool. It looks great. Kind of like a palace dragon.”

I wrote the teacher an email.

Hi Tony,

I was in your recent mask-making class for women veterans. I did not like my work and almost didn’t come back the second day. Then I almost didn’t even pick up my finished mask.

However, I picked it up this week, and I am stunned. It’s art! You said at one point I seemed to be upset it wasn’t perfect, and I think that’s true. But now I can see there is art in imperfection. I’ve been attempting other art projects and was frustrated with their flaws, but now I’m sort of going with it. The mask has given me confidence to carry on. I’ve named him CatManDo.

Thanks for your teaching and inspiration,

Donna

He replied!

Oh! I am so glad!! I thought it was one of the best pieces in the class when you were working on it.

Thank you,

Tony

Best in class? I thought it was a complete and utter failure. Clearly I was right about the master plan. Many lessons to be learned.

Rainy day minimalist

We’re finally getting a break from the torrent of rain, and it occurred to me I never once used an umbrella. Maybe one more thing we don’t need in retirement? As I see it, there are several options:

  • Stay home. This is the luxury of retirement. Crappy weather? Oopsie, I’m innie. If you have a television and stock a treasure trove of food, libations, puzzles and books, you should be fine riding out the storm. The cat and I like to play, “Stuck in a frozen cabin in the woods.”
  • Retirement-proof your hair. The reason many women avoid the rain is about hair or shoes. It seems to me most men don’t bother with umbrellas. It’s time to get over the hype your hair must be fixed, full, smooth and perfect. Let it go wild. My longish hair actually looks better with a little rain on it. Sort of the poor man’s French girl hair.
  • Dump the good shoes. In one of my last dressy work-related events before I retired, I wore silver Birkenstock sandals. In hindsight, I can see it was my way of saying, guess what? I’m retiring! These days, I have Merrell boots for big rain involving puddles. For modest sprinkles, Keen sandals (with or without socks) or just athletic shoes. Nothing bad will happen to them.
  • Wear a hat. Hats and dark glasses are God’s way of saying you look marvelous. No makeup required. No need to fix your hair. Just plop and go. Add sunglasses or tinted lenses for extra protection from critical observers. A brim keeps the rain off your glasses.
  • Get a raincoat. Or two. My fave is a real Scottish Mackintosh I bought when I still had cash flow. Coupled with a black Tilley hat, Dale says I look menacing. I also have a short rain jacket for sports and a knee-length Marmot for putzing around. Hoods are handy, depending on what type of hat you select. Big pockets are essential.
  • Ditch the handbag. That’s what pockets are for. Possible exceptions include an all-weather crossbody bag or my old favorite … the backpack purse! Coming back to a neighborhood near you soon.

Umbrellas are relatively cheap, so this isn’t a huge money saver, but it’s another foot forward on the minimalist path. The real pain of umbrellas is what to do with them when you arrive at your destination. Or how to carry one when you have other stuff to carry on the way to your destination.

Hands-free is better than dragging around an umbrella. Plus, you can run faster when the bad shit goes down.

As for the image above, I’ve been having fun with the free Android app Sketch Photo.

Pickled beet memories

Even though I grew up surrounded by California’s wondrous bounty of fresh fruits and vegetables, my mother did not like to cook and thanked the Blessed Virgin Mary every day for packages and cans. And, of course, she was witness to the Miracle of Swanson TV Dinners.

I don’t think I tasted a fresh peach until high school. Potatoes were powdered out of a box or the small white ones out of a can. Believe it or not, when I joined the Army shortly after high school, I considered the mess hall fine dining.

Back in the day, Mom frequently served canned pickled beets. A lot of people say yuk to beets, but I loved them! Now I buy beets fresh at the store or the farmer’s market and pickle them myself. But it’s kind of a pain in the rear. Today I had the brilliant idea of making them in the Instant Pot.

The grocery store usually sells beets in little bundles of three. I actually wanted yellow beets, but I didn’t like the looks of them so went with red. Gave them a good rinse in the sink and then peeled and diced them raw. I would guess it was about two cups, which I tossed into the pot.

I checked several references for cook time and liquids and found inspiration at Plant Based Instant Pot. I decided on 1/2 cup of water and 1/4 cup of apple cider vinegar.  Tossed that in the pot and added a cinnamon stick, a few whole cloves, a few allspice berries and one tablespoon of maple syrup.

Popped on the lid. Made sure the pressure valve was closed and pressed manual, high pressure for five minutes. It didn’t take long for the pot to come to pressure, so I’d say less than 10 minutes all together. When the timer went off, I very carefully released the pressure manually.

They’re in the fridge now, but I taste-tested, and they are delicious! Next time I might add a bit of sliced Maui onion. Maybe a Bay Leaf.

Yesterday was whole roast chicken with Dale’s Maine-style potato stuffing and steamed baby broccoli. We’re going with chicken sandwiches on sourdough for dinner tonight , so I thought some sort of dark red or green vegetable would be good on the side. I’ve been craving beets.

What a perfect use for the Instant Pot. I wonder what else we can pickle the same way. Ginger? Carrots?

By the way, I’m not completely dissing canned vegetables. You have to pick and choose. Beets and corn seem to survive nicely. To me, the worst canned vegetable is asparagus. But I bet you somebody out there has a happy canned asparagus memory, and they eat it to this day.

How to use an alarm clock

Everybody has an opinion, but I was shocked to see retirement advice stating it’s important to establish a routine by getting up with an alarm every morning and filling your day with activity. I was going to leave a comment, but this particular site doesn’t enable comments. Here’s my comment:

Are you smoking crack?

Seriously, that is the dumbest advice I’ve ever heard. Dumber than even the new Abby, who hardly ever gets it right, in my opinion. The old Abby had her act together.

Back to the subject of sleep. The author says once you’re retired and don’t use an alarm, your whole day might be spent in bed or on the couch watching TV or on the porch watching the world go by.

I imagine there are retirees who might spend 30 or 40 years working their butts off and then suddenly decide to squander the rest of their lives doing nothing, but no, I really can’t imagine that. Even in my quest to be less productive, I have many interests, and well, shit must be done.

My body wakes up naturally around 6:30 a.m. I read the news and do the NY Times mini puzzle from under the covers, which by the way, is an art form. Bad things happen if you press too hard on the back of the phone. Most mornings I choose not to get up until around 7 a.m. I pack a lot into my days, but I go for the late start and ease in slowly.

The blur of breakfast and lunch can be problematic if you’re not careful, but retirement meal clash can be avoided with proper management.

Waking up without an alarm is one of the greatest joys retirement brings. I waited my whole life for this. While there’s no shame in getting up early to be productive if that’s how you roll, I’m here to say you can ignore all the advice if you like. Not everyone needs a routine. You don’t have to be productive. You can do what you want. You can sleep in.

During my last few years on the job, I had a long commute and got up every morning at 4 a.m. I don’t miss it. In fact, I was thinking the other day about what I do miss from work, and it was hard to even make a list.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Room service! A tiny moment of pure joy after a long day of business travel and painful encounters with disagreeable executives. So, yeah, I miss room service, but I could probably get Dale to pretend.

I only set an alarm if I absolutely positively have to be somewhere early, and these days, that usually means golf. Alarm clocks are also good to make sure you don’t overdo it on a nap. 

Simple needs, easily met

Tuesday is my favorite day of the week because it’s Chopped night on TV. I could watch it for hours. OK, I do watch it for hours.

I’m kind of a complicated person, and I’ve often joked my goal is simple needs, easily met. Sadly, I’m usually all about complex needs that are difficult to meet. Cooking in retirement puts me closer to my goal.

The slab pies continue to fascinate. I wrote author Cathy Barrow asking about reducing the size, and she said the recipes aren’t designed for round pies. She uses 1/4 sheet pans. I happened to notice 1/8 sheet pans do exist, and she agreed they would be perfect for her pies. Either cut the recipe in half and make one, or make two and freeze one.

I got my 1/8 sheet pans in the mail yesterday, and I’m at it again. This time it’s Cowboy Beef Stew Slab Pie with lard crust. I guess the “cowboy” comes from Ancho chili powder and coffee. Not that lard is a health food, but it’s not as bad as you think.

So many things to love about retirement, but cooking has to be among my favorites. I have more time to pay attention to what’s going on in the world, and it seems to me the world has gone crazy. The kitchen is my shelter from the storm. Something about chopping, mixing, weighing, baking, roasting, stirring and browning mellows me out. Plus, we eat well!

It’s a good thing my other favorite hobbies involve exercise.

I’ll try not to beat the slab pie drum again, but I did want to share an update about downsizing. The author provides metric weights for all ingredients, and I’ve found that to be super-helpful for cutting the recipes in half.

For example, the full recipe calls for 1/4 cup or 30 grams of all-purpose flour. I don’t have an 1/8 cup measure, but our digital scale does metric, so I just weigh 15 grams. Most of the crust recipes include versions for both one and two-crust pies, and the one-crust recipe is perfect for a two-crust pie made in a 1/8 sheet pan. Wow, say that fast three times in a row.

Cathy also tells you what steps can be completed in advance. I made the crust today – the dough rests in the refrigerator overnight. I also made the filling, as her pies call for chilled crust and chilled filling. The filling will also rest in the refrigerator overnight. Tomorrow, all I have to do is roll out dough and make pie! Splitting up tasks is also easier on the dishwasher.

The weather is cold by California standards, certainly by my standards, and it’s supposed to rain hard tomorrow. Crusty beefy pie sounds perfect to me.

Dale’s on tap to cook this evening. He’s making a breaded pork cutlet known at our house as Schnitzel on a Stick. It’s basically a pounded-out pork schnitzel made from a bone-in chop. Side dishes are steamed spinach and maybe some pan-fried potatoes (bratkartoffeln).

To drink? Dale just loaded the kegerator with Mirror Pond Pale Ale from Deschutes Brewery.

All that and Chopped. Clean jammies. A cozy fire. Perhaps a cat in the lap. Did I say simple needs, easily met?

Is it too late to start running?

Have you thought about running? As in actually propelling your body down the street in a moderate jog? The benefits are big, and it may not be too late to start.

I ran a bit in the 70s and early 80s but gave it up for walking by the time I turned 30. I simply didn’t enjoy running all that much. Walking has been good for me physically and mentally.

For a year or so now, I’ve had this urge to run. I’ll be out walking, and all of the sudden, I think, “Wow, it might feel good to run.” It’s not about losing weight or becoming super-fit. All of the sudden, it just sounded like fun.

Yet, I resisted. Why start now in my 60s, when walking seems to be fine? I started reading and found some interesting articles on the benefits of running, especially as we age. The most startling study found running might actually be good for your knees. In terms of bone density, running beats walking hands-down.

I finally decided to make the leap. I thought, well, I’ll alternate walking 30 seconds and then running 30 seconds. The first steps were wobbly at best – I wasn’t sure my ankles would hold me up! It felt weird to put that kind of pressure on my body.

Even for walking, I wear Hoka One One super-cushioned shoes, as I have bulging discs and other back maladies associated with age. I wear the Bondi 6. The shoes felt good, and once I got running, my ankles were functional. I completed a mile doing the walk-run.

Gradually, I increased to 1 minute of walking and 1 minute of running. And then I worked my way up to running a mile non-stop. I don’t want to screw this up, so I’m taking it slow.

After years of hating running, I can’t wait to do it again. I like the way the way running makes me feel. It’s a level of endurance hard to achieve through walking, unless you do lots of it. It’s winter now, and I love the way running warms me up fast. I can walk for an hour and never feel warm.

By retirement age, most of us have physical limitations. I say move if you’re able, as much as you’re able. Including physical movement in our daily lives enhances health and well-being. It’s great to run, work out at the gym and play sports, but walking, housework, yard work and cooking count, too.

From everything I’ve read, walking is nearly as beneficial as running, but you have to do more of it. We’re retired now, so walking more shouldn’t be a problem, right? I plan to continue my long walks, but I like these little walk-runs and want to gradually increase the running time. Here’s a good article from Consumer Reports on running versus walking.

The most comprehensive argument for running comes from no other than Runner’s World. The article focuses on running to look and feel younger and covers benefits to the heart, muscles, brain and immune system. The article speculates running 2 ½ hours per week total reaps all the rewards to be reaped. This article from the New York Times suggests 2 hours of running per week adds seven years to your life.

Will our aging backs, knees and other mysterious parts hold up to running? I find the body to be remarkably delicate and resilient at the same time. The key to running at this age or maybe any age is to ease in slowly and monitor your body carefully.

It’s exciting to be 63 years old and completely surprised by the spontaneous urge to run. I’m going for it.

Passport to beer

When it comes to beer, I’m no Brett Kavanaugh, but I do enjoy a brew or two. Many years ago, I drank Milwaukee’s Best Light, which was the cheapest beer available. I’d invite friends over and offer them a beer. Everyone was like, um, no thanks. Dale said it was time to upgrade my beer.

I switched to Bud Light, and that was my beer of choice for years. After living in Germany and collecting those gorgeous steins, it’s safe to say I love regular beer, but I believed it was fattening, so I mostly stuck with lights. About 10 years ago a friend suggested if I really truly loved beer, I should consider drinking the real thing.

Real beer has barley, hops, water and yeast. No corn syrup, no rice.

Not that beer is a health food, but one does one’s best to heighten the pleasure and minimize the downside. Lots of commercially brewed beer includes corn syrup and/or rice.

Of course, I did not watch the Super Bowel, but I saw commercials for Bud Light bragging about not using corn syrup like Coors Light and Miller Lite. I think they all use rice. Not like it’s poison or anything, but I have come to appreciate the taste and quality of “clean” beer.

Dale was morally opposed to light beer anyway, so my switch was good news for him. We started buying microbrews, and there was no turning back. The interesting thing is I did not gain weight when I switched to the heartier beers. Maybe because you drink less of it? Or maybe light beer is like diet soda and can actually make you gain weight?

If I wanted a light mass-produced beer these days, I would go for Amstel Light, which is tasty and seems devoid of extra stuff.

For $15 each, we purchased beer passports, which encourage people to get out and visit local breweries. There are more than 70! Each brewery stamps its section of the passport, and after four stamps, you get a bottle opener. Sixteen stamps, and you get a pint glass. Fill up the passport, and they create a custom map documenting your travels.

So far, we have three stamps. We went to one brewery not far from our home and the other two within a 30-minute drive. Our practice to date has been to arrive around 2 p.m. and have one beer each. The breweries were great, the beer was delicious and we enjoyed talking to other beer aficionados. Our passports were quite the hit with some, although others were familiar with the program and have already filled up the pages.

While your area may not have a passport program, I’ll bet you have a good selection of local breweries. If you like beer, I encourage you to visit. Most have sampler glasses, and I was also surprised to see a good selection of beer in the 4 percent ABV range, which is quite nice for an afternoon beer. Another little retirement pleasure!

By the way, I totally get it if microbrews aren’t your thing. Beer preferences are often a mishmash of taste, culture, brand loyalty and memories. Do you have a favorite beer? What makes it special to you?

Super Bowel Sunday

It’s a windy, rainy day and a good one for hanging out in the kitchen. The weather report said occasional rain, but so far it has been occasionally raining steadily since last night. Oh, yeah, I forgot. It’s the Super Bowel. I hate football, so nothing there for me.

I was thinking this morning how much I love being retired and having the opportunity to cook from scratch and eat great food that doesn’t come out of a box. In the ongoing adventures of my cooking life:

  • I’ve temporarily stopped making yogurt. Two batches in a row failed, so I decided to take a break. I’m enjoying whole milk European-style yogurt from Straus Family Creamery. No thickeners or stabilizers or any of that weird stuff. The yogurt is advertised as pourable. I add fruit and homemade granola, and it works just fine for me.
  • Yesterday I made Butter Mochi. I had never heard of it, but a friend sent me the recipe, and I’ve been itching to try it. Wow! So unusual, but right up my alley. I like chocolate, but my tastes in food lean blonde. Butter, vanilla, butterscotch, caramel. Luckily, we have neighbors who will eat anything we give them, so it’s not hanging around pointing a gun at our heads. I think it would be a nice dessert for an outdoor barbecue party.
  • I bought the slab pie book. Today I am making chicken pot pie with leftover roasted chicken. I made the all-butter crust that worked so well last time, but I only made enough for one crust. I divided it in half and will make two small free-form rustic pies. The dough is resting in the fridge now. I’m cutting the filling by half, but I suspect there will still be too much, so I’ll freeze the rest. I love the recipes from this book, and it just doesn’t seem like it should be that hard to downsize. We shall see.
  • The Instant Pot is primed to make chicken stock, using up the frozen chicken carcasses we saved from previous roast chickens. I’m waiting on grocery boy to get back from the store with the leeks I need for the chicken pot pie. Seemed less wasteful to use some of those instead of onions in the stock. The stock takes about an hour in the Instant Pot.
  • Cannabis tincture! I am almost out of the batch I made last year. I’m using the Magical Butter Machine. You just add 1 ounce of decarboxylated cannabis and 2 cups of 190 proof Everclear. Set the temperature, push the timer button and four hours later, I have tincture. It’s cycling through now, and the machine makes the strangest noises, but it’s easy and safe.

Let me say a few words about tincture. As I’ve written before, I was not using cannabis while I was working. I had a mastectomy shortly before I retired and experienced neuropathic pain throughout the scarred area. The first thing I tried was Kikoko tea, which is a low-dose cannabis product. I love it. I wouldn’t say the tea cured the pain, but I felt really good and didn’t notice the pain. I started reading up on other cannabis products to see if I could get the same results cheaper.

Enter tincture. Tincture is either made with alcohol or glycerin. You can put a few drops under the tongue for quick results, although the alcohol-based tincture burns. That’s why I mix it in juice. Or you can even add it to a spoon of honey. It takes longer to feel the effects, and it does go through your liver, but the alcohol content is quite minimal, so I don’t worry about it.

I started with a few drops and added a drop a day until I got the right dosage. I was not seeking a high. I just wanted that pleasant feeling that starts when I feel myself starting to smile. One does build up a tolerance over time. After a year of one dropperful in the morning with my juice, I gradually increased to two dropperfuls. I think that’s about ½ teaspoon.

Tincture, to me, is nothing short of a miracle. I feel happier than I have maybe in my whole life. Granted, some of that is being retired, but I can feel the difference if I miss my dose. I tend to be very anxious about everything, and a small dose of tincture daily keeps those demons at bay. My neuropathic pain is almost non-existent. Some of that can be attributed to the cannabis cream I use as well.

For people who are curious about cannabis but don’t want to smoke it, I highly recommend tincture. Dispensaries sell it – if you live in a state where they have dispensaries. It’s worth getting a medical recommendation if that’s what it takes to purchase cannabis legally where you live.