Here it is. The end of a miserable year. You think, well, thank God that’s over. But you know it’s not. There ain’t no shortage of misery in these parts.
Golf intersects with life
But there’s lots of good stuff, too, so you keep going. It’s just like golf. No, really, it is. I played my best golf ever this year, breaking 80 several times. I thought, oh, joy, those days of high scores are over at last!
And then came the high scores.
Damn it, just like life. I think yesterday was my worst round of the year. As we were finishing up on 18, after my fourth double bogey in five holes, one of the women said, “It was great to play with you, even if you didn’t play as well on the back nine.”
I’ve been in a snit ever since. I mean, was that necessary? In golf and in life, you don’t need to remind people when they suck.
One of the other women in my group stopped me in the parking lot to share she has broken 100 for the first time. I said congrats and all that, but really, I was in my own head at that point. Today, feeling crummy, I sent her an email congratulating her again on a wonderful milestone. She sent back the nicest note, and it helped me dump the negative waves.
In this case, it was definitely better to give than receive. I find it helps to do something nice for someone else to take the sting out of my own hurt feelings. Yet another lesson about accepting the ups and downs of life (and golf).
New Year’s Eve
Our New Year’s plans are typical. Stay home, eat well. I’m making baguettes, which we will have with good olive oil, a runny Brie, Italian cold cuts and other small bites. Champagne. This year’s treat is 50 grams of caviar.
Back in the day, we ate the good stuff from Russia on occasion. I don’t even know if you can get it anymore. We’ve tried American paddlefish, which is OK, but nothing to write home about. We like American farm-raised sturgeon from Sterling Caviar, which is less than an hour from our home. Sadly, they don’t have tours.
We’ve enjoyed caviar on toast points or on blinis, but this year we are going minimalist. We have one mother-of-pearl caviar spoon, which we will share out of convenience romanticism. I suppose there will be a fight over who goes first, but one person will eat her half right out of the tiny tin and then pass the spoon to Dale, who will then eat his half.
Now we know who goes first.
You had me at coconut milk
In other food news, I made Kabocha Squash Red Curry. I love anything in coconut milk, and I love Kabocha squash, so this was a total winner. The pomegranate seeds as a garnish were a yummy touch. We had a lot of leftover pom seeds, so I’ve put them on a sheet tray in the freezer for a couple of hours and will then bag them. Should work.
The only thing I did different with the recipe is add one diced serrano and one diced jalapeno pepper when I added the ginger. They were old peppers I wanted to use up, and the end result just wasn’t hot enough for us. I definitely think this dish can take the heat if you are so inclined.
Today is a busy cooking day. In addition to the baguettes, I’m making beef stock out of the bones and scraps from our Christmas roast beef. Dale is making pâte.
Requiem for fuzzy pink slippers
Heartbreaking though it is, I believe my fuzzy fleece-lined pink Crocs are toast. Unless I was out playing golf or walking, I wore them all day every day, and they began to stink. Badly. I hand-washed them in soap and water, and it took a week for them to dry, even with a blow dryer assist. They still smelled awful.
I purchased “odor neutralizer” powder and sprinkled that in. It’s even worse. Anyway, my slippers/Crocs are in time out. I’m pretty sure they are history, but I haven’t tossed them yet, in case anyone has a remedy.
Bueller, Bueller, anyone?
Thank you
As we end the year, I’d like to thank you for hanging out with me here at Retirement Confidential. Lockdown has been tough, and politics has been brutal, but we’re retired! We can sleep late, and the food is good. I hope you found plenty of happiness in spite of it all, and I wish you unbridled joy in 2021.
Adios, 2020.
So long, farewell, aufwiedersehn, goodbye.
See ya. Wouldn’t want to be ya.
Scram.
Be gone with you.
And get off my lawn!
Happy New Year! My croc advice is to fully embrace retirement/pandemic living and wear regular crocs with socks. 🙂
Yes, that’s what I used to do. I still have my regular Crocs, so it’s easy to go back. I liked not having to mess with socks. Happy New Year to you, too!
Good job.
Keep it up.
As the pole said to the flag.
Pretty lame, but I still laughed!
Enjoyed your blog posts Donna, and your accompanying sense of humour.
Hopefully 2021 will be better for all of us. (or, at the minimum, not suck quite so much!).
Thanks, Derek. All the best to you and yours!
Donna, it’s easy to hang out with your blog. I was reminded of Kris Kristofferson’s song – Here Comes That Rainbow Again. I have a gratitude jar that I put weekly posts in. The first one in 2020 read – 5 days in a row at home. If I only knew!! 2020 hasn’t been that great but it hasn’t been terrible in my tribe either. Happy New Year.
That’s a great song. I love Kris Kristofferson! I agree it could have been way worse, at least from our personal perspective. I think the weight of seeing so much other suffering (and also stupidity) is what makes it harder for me. Happy New Year, and thanks for all the great comments you share on the blog. It does feel like a bit of a community here.