Learning – Page 3 – Retirement Confidential

Your retirement elevator speech

Unlike some people, I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I didn’t have a singular talent or focus. My best subject was English, and I was decent writer, so I went with the only thing I was any good at and majored in journalism. That led to a surprisingly lucrative career in corporate communications.

But like so many others, I tried to define myself through work. And even in retirement, I’ve struggled with it. Perhaps it’s like this for everyone. Maybe you were a nurse or an engineer, you think, well, that’s what I did. That’s who I am. But if I’m not doing it anymore, who am I now?

I didn’t think of myself as a writer. I was a communications professional by trade, and writing was one of my competencies. My skills served me well, but it didn’t seem like enough. Part of me always thought or hoped there was a brilliant writer in there somewhere waiting to be released from the tyranny of having to earn a living.

It has been four years now since I retired, and my secret genius is nowhere to be found. At first, I was like, bitch, show your face! But I don’t know. Lately, I’ve been thinking, good riddance. Why should I hang onto a dream I fabricated as a child because it’s the only thing I could come up with at the time?

Retirement is different for everyone, but it can be a journey toward freeing ourselves from expectations and accepting we don’t have to be more than we are. Shedding layers and perhaps defining our self-image.

When I was working, we were supposed to have an elevator speech – a quick but memorable sound bite to introduce ourselves and convince someone we were all that and a bag of chips.

I never came up with a good elevator speech, but I’ve been working on the new and improved retirement version. Here goes:

Most days I’m a decent human being with a multitude of interests who enjoys life and sometimes writes.

What’s yours?

The case for retirement

Homemade sourdough toast and scrambled eggs made with extra egg yolks leftover from another recipe.

It seems like most of the advice about retirement is to keep working. Experts cite financial and health benefits, as well as the ongoing need for people to live with purpose. Apparently, only a job provides such purpose?

Of course, I disagree work is the solution for most of life’s woes, and I’ve been toying with the idea of penning an op-ed about the case for retirement. I’m still fleshing it out, but my basic premise is that we add layers and layers of accommodations and behaviors to earn a living, and we start to believe that’s who we really are.

Or perhaps we just accept who we’ve become. The workplace is a powerful force, but everything changes if you have the financial resources to exit.

Retirement can be the opportunity to discover or re-discover who you are when nobody is watching. I’ve been searching for a metaphor. The first one that came to mind is of a snake shedding its skin. Snakes shed their skins because they are growing, and the old skin no longer fits. That sort of applies to how we evolve in retirement, but I think it misses one key point.

If it’s true we add layers to survive, then shedding them over time returns us to our natural state. That’s not how it works with snakes, so I’ve been trying to think of another metaphor. Perhaps we are more like furniture being stripped of multiple layers of paint to ultimately reveal the lush original wood.

I’m several layers away from exposing bare wood, but I’ve been blowing some dust and cleaning up a lot of paint chips. I want to see what’s underneath.

Are you morphing in retirement? How would you describe it?

Extra gluten, please

I love, love, love making sourdough bread. I believe Gollum, my starter, has grown stronger with time. The bread has a tangy sourdough taste, and it rose higher this time. More kneading reduced the size of the holes, and I’m learning to score the bread with crisp lines.

Bread baking started out as a pandemic hobby, but I’m in for the long haul. Now that I kind of have the process for basic sourdough locked in, I’d like to experiment with variations. Thank goodness neither one of us has gluten issues. That would be a bummer.

Awhile back I suggested I might try making croissants. I studied the Cook’s Illustrated recipe and video, but it just seemed a bridge too far. I finally did subscribe to the NY Times cooking section, and they just posted a different recipe for croissants.

The Cook’s Illustrated recipe makes 22, which seems rather ridiculous. The NY Times makes eight. That sounds more manageable to me, so I might give it a go.

The secret to better cuticles

I’m getting a pedicure today. I’m as immune as I’ll ever be, and everyone will be masked up. I honestly don’t know why I care so much about my toes, when my hands and fingernails look absolutely horrible.

My cuticles are the worst in the world. But I have discovered the secret to better cuticles. It involves a soapy water and a sink full of dishes.

Dale made macaroni and cheese this week, and the mess was horrendous. Lots of extra stuff that wouldn’t go in the dishwasher, so I washed a lot by hand. My cuticles softened up, and the dry stuff came right off.

And no, this does not mean I’m signing up to clean Dale’s messes. However, his mac & cheese might be worth it. Not gooey like some – lots of extra sharp cheddar cheese but still firm.

By the way, I still owe you a recipe for Dale’s enchilada sauce. Coming soon to a blog near you.

Are you a multipotentialite?

Dale, my husband and wine tasting steward, at our first outing in more than a year.

Prior to my 1999 cancer diagnosis, I did not have many creative hobbies outside of work. My interests were mostly physical. We were avid scuba divers, and I was a competitive racewalker. Oh, and golf, the crack cocaine of hobbies.

Cancer and therapy helped me realize there was more to life than work, and I vowed to broaden my horizons. I saw Martha Stewart’s beautiful cookies decorated with royal icing and sanding sugars, and I thought, I could do that! Two large bins of cookie paraphernalia later, and dozens of cookies cutters organized by season or theme, I still love making decorated cookies.

Then I started an online business selling golf shirts with embroidered logos designed by me. After a couple of years, I broke even. One smart thing I did was trademark my business name. Somebody else with deeper pockets wanted the name, and I ended up assigning the trademark to them for $50,000!

Next, I started a blog – Rock the Silver – about embracing gray hair. And because I couldn’t help myself, I sold t-shirts with the logo! I did that for about six years, until my job became increasingly demanding, and I just couldn’t do both.

Work sucked my creative juices dry, and I didn’t take up much of anything new until I retired. First the blog – Retirement Confidential. I figured this would be a journey worth writing about. Then I started playing around with ceramic coasters. Then woodburning. And my food fixation has never abated. We are both avid cooks and love experimenting in the kitchen.

Since I retired, I’ve learned to grow cannabis and make cannabis tincture, cannabis balm, naan, English muffins, scones, baguettes, no-knead rye bread, a variety of savory pies and sourdough bread. The next thing on my list might be melt-and-pour soap. For Christmas, my sister-in-law gave me a bar of soap made by a friend of hers who is an organic dairy farmer. I can’t believe what a difference it makes on my skin, especially since we’re all washing our hands so much. I thought, well, maybe I should just make some?

I have a book from the library, and I’m studying soapmaking for now without making any purchases. Although it’s a relatively low-cost hobby, I sent plenty of shirts to the landfill, so I’m now careful to approach all activities with caution – not just about the costs, but how much specialized equipment is involved? Do I have room for it? Or is this just a passing fancy? I only go all-in on hobbies I think will stick.

And that’s the thing. I’ve always tried to put a name on whatever affliction this is. On this very blog, we have discussed renaissance woman, dabbler, polymath and dilettante. I’ve also seen serial hobbyist.

Yet another word I just discovered is multipotentialite … pronounced multi – potential – ite (rhymes with bite). The term was coined by Emilie Wapnick, who hosts an entire website for multipotentialites, sometimes referred to as multipods.

The word multipotentialite is a mouthful. But I sort of like it.

Much of the website is how to earn a living when you are distracted by so many interests. It has made me wonder if that’s why my jobs were mostly disappointing – it just isn’t my nature to do one thing. As I look back, my father was a super-creative multipotentialite, but he struggled with actual work. Perhaps it was his example that helped me find the strength to tough it out.

I’m somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, which might also explain why I was able to hang in there job-wise. I like variety, but too much of it can be overwhelming.

For many of us, becoming overwhelmed by too many interests is the biggest threat to having balance in retired life. Sometimes I’m like a ball of frenetic energy, but if I take on too much, something slides through the cracks, usually household chores, and that unsettles me. I also need idle time with absolutely nothing on the schedule to just hang around and let my brain wander.

While much of the content about multipotentialites is about finding a way to focus your talents and earn a living, those of us who made it to retirement have different challenges. If you are driven by varied interests, chances are you are plenty busy, but are you doing what matters most? What matters most to you?

As a multipotentialite retiree, you’re probably going to go down a rabbit hole or two or three, and that’s part of the joy in being who we are. While you may not need the laser focus of someone in their earning years, I think it’s important to periodically hit pause and re-balance your fun portfolio. As Dale says, you can make work out of anything.

I’ve decided to cut back on golf, postpone soapmaking, write more and plan lots of pandemic-safe outings with Dale. That still leaves me plenty of time for art, cooking, walking, swimming, reading and tending to my cannabis plant.

And chores, but I don’t consider them fun.

Bread camp in my future?

I baked my second loaf of sourdough bread today, and it looks delicious! We’ll eat it tonight with grilled sausages, cheese and a spinach salad. Perhaps some red wine? We’ve been tough on the wine rack over the past year. Our local wineries are fantastic, and many are open for socially distanced outdoor tastings. High on our list of post-vaccine activities.

There is hope if you are curious about sourdough but still rather intimidated. Sourdough seemed so formidable to me when I first got the itch to experiment, but even after only two tries, it doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore.

The idea of creating starter scared me the most, but now that little blob of batter is done and sits in the refrigerator until I need him again. This time, I took him out before I went to bed and fed him in the morning. He was good and bubbly when I made the dough later that afternoon.

While there’s not a lot of hands-on labor, making sourdough bread does take at least a couple of days … at least the way I’m doing it. I mapped out sample schedules so I could determine when I needed to be home for a few hours and when the dough could sit there unsupervised while I played golf or otherwise goofed off. The schedules set my mind at ease.

I also tweaked the cooking process. Last time, I used a cold oven and a cold bread pan. This time around I pre-heated both the oven and the pan. I like the color better with the pre-heated pan, but that might just be timing. This loaf was baked at 450 F for 30 minutes with the lid on and 20 minutes with the lid off.

Scoring the bread just before it goes in the oven helps it rise. You can use a razor blade or a little wooden thing with a razor blade on the end called a lame. My technique needs some work, but overall, I am pleased with the appearance.

I finished the book I mentioned in an earlier post – Beginners: The Joy and Transformative Power of Lifelong Learning by Tom Vanderbilt. Although his journey to learn new things such as chess, singing, surfing and drawing seemed overly indulgent to me, he told a good story about the benefits of pushing yourself into new territory.

I’m kind of a loner, and when I want to learn something, I tend to get books and check out various websites and then figure it out myself. That’s what I did with sourdough. I rarely take classes, but after reading that book, I’ve been thinking it might be good to explore online educational resources.

As you might guess, I’m thinking about cooking classes.

He also makes a strong case for group learning and the social benefits of connecting with other like-minded beginners. When the pandemic is under control, I could see attending some sort of cooking or baking experience in person. There actually is such a thing as “bread camp.”

In Slovak, Pekar means baker. And I’m married to a Miller, so how perfect is that?

The chapter on drawing was especially interesting. I’ve always said the reason I burn abstract doodles on my rescued wood art is because I can’t draw representations of real things. Apparently, I am not alone. Most children, he reports, discover how hard it is to draw what they see and give up. But there are tricks such as trying to draw it upside down so you’re not looking at the whole but instead a collection of lines and shadows.

Although I was a little tough on the author when I mentioned the book earlier, I ended up liking it, and the book motivated me to think about what I want to learn as I age and how I want to approach lifelong learning. I have a bias toward going it alone, but he opened my eyes to the value of accomplished teachers as well as the atmosphere of people struggling through the experience together.

In the meantime, I will continue to dabble in the comfort of my virus-free home. But I’m still kind of excited thinking about what experiences might be just around the corner.

There must be a zillion types of camps and learning vacations for adults. The author and his family even went on a vacation where they learned to swim in the open water. I might need to make a spreadsheet of all the possibilities.

What kind of camp or learning vacation would pique your interest?

Two days and a wake-up

OUr second vaccines

Dale and I have been counting down the days until we get our second Pfizer vaccines. While there were some delays due to weather, it looks like we’re on track to get ours on schedule. As we used to say in the military, it’s two days and a wake-up!

Then it’s a two-week wait, and of course, we understand nothing is risk-free. It’s not like we’re changing our lives. Still, I have an appointment for a haircut exactly two weeks after. That appointment is the only thing between me and an ugly episode of Hair Clippers Gone Wild.

Unless it gets really bad again, we’d like to go camping when it warms up. I need art supplies, and I’m looking forward to wandering around a store instead of ordering it on Amazon.

A home for my art?

Speaking of art, I’m still a little cautious about sharing my woodburning art projects with people who may not like them. My sisters-in-law each received one for Christmas, and I understand they were not impressed. I get it, art is personal, blah, blah, blah.

I wondered if I could donate them to a thrift store that benefits a non-profit organization I’d feel good about supporting. I found one shop that benefits a cat shelter, and that might well be my first stop.

As for the art, they may love it, they may hate it or my little creations might not be a good fit for their clientele, but once I’m in the immune-zone, I plan to pay a visit.

A cooking failure

We had a rare cooking failure this week. Dale and I both love fried oysters, and it’s one of the few things we don’t make at home. We have one of those big home deep fryers but rarely use it. I made onion rings in it a few years ago, and they were greasy and soggy. I thought the temperature gauge was off.

But we kept it. This week Dale decided to test it. He filled the fryer with oil and heated it up, setting the temperature to 350 and then 375 degrees. The thermostat registered the proper temperature after the appropriate amount of time, and he used a separate instant-read thermometer for cross-reference.

Then he bought fresh oysters and shucked them himself. These were tough to open, and it was quite a task. He also decided to make homemade French fries and coleslaw to go with. There was some sort of coating made with buttermilk and cornmeal, but I wasn’t paying attention at that point.

He cooked it all up, and the oysters and French fries were inedible greasy soggy messes. I also had the audacity to say he put too much mayonnaise in the coleslaw. That did not help. I believe he described it as “piling on.”

It seems the machine heats up properly but can’t maintain temperature. So totally not Dale’s fault, although he felt terrible. We both get quite devasted when our food fails for whatever reason.

Anyway, the fryer (not the person who fries) is gone, although we will probably look for another one. We don’t do the big fry often, but those jumbo-sized things are handy.

Books and TV

I’m almost finished with Schitt’s Creek, and I have enjoyed it much more since I basically told Dale he had to binge-watch it with me or pass. In other words, Schitt’s or get off the pot.

I just can’t get into a show when he only wants to watch it once a month. I love it, but I do wish David would get married already. This is taking forever.

I highly recommend Lupin on Netflix but with only six episodes, it was over way too fast. It’s a French show, dubbed, about the son of an immigrant from Senegal who grows up to be a world-class thief with a heart of gold and a penchant for amazing disguises. I understand there are more at the ready, but they are waiting until summer to release them.

I’m on the waiting list at the library for Jussi Adler-Olsen’s Victim 2117, the last of the Department Q series about Danish detective Carl Mørck. The previous book in the series told the back story of sidekick Rose, and I believe this one is about Assad – a great character with a secretive past.

Also from the library, I’m reading Beginners: The Joy and Transformative Power of Lifelong Learning by Tom Vanderbilt. I should probably do a complete review, but I’m not sure I will. I like it, and I suspect a lot of retirees will be inspired by it, but the author sort of annoys me. He’s a journalist with a wife and family who decides to learn to sing and surf, among other activities.

I mean, sure, he wrote a book about it and will hopefully recoup some of his expenses, but I can’t help thinking about his wife, and what it must have felt like for her as he went off on this mid-life journey disguised as work.

Sorry about the mess, honey, but I’m late for choir practice! It feeds my soul! Oh, can you take me to the airport next week? I’m off to Costa Rica for surfing lessons!

I’m probably not being fair. I’ve been sort of cranky lately. I mean, I’m more relaxed and sleeping way better with The Former Guy somewhat out of the picture, but there’s still a lot of bad stuff going down out there, and I have to force myself to let go of things I can’t control.

Note to self: Stay away from the hair clippers.

Cloudspotting for beginners

My cloudspotting guides tell me these are Cirrus, high-altitude clouds composed of ice crystals but usually associated with fair weather.

Sourdough Saga

Today is bread day. While Gollum, my sourdough starter, is ready for action, I’m still not completely confident the bread will rise as it’s supposed to.

If you missed my last post, I named my starter Gollum, because when it comes to sourdough adventures, I find myself thinking about Gandalf, who said, “My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play in it, for good or evil, before this is over.”

Now would be the time to mention Monday was also bread day, but my attempt was aborted by Gollum. The Tartine book said to discard all but a tablespoon of starter and then feed it again with the flour/water mixture. I’m not sure what happened, but Gollum failed to yield his precious bubbles after I fed him again, so I gave him more time to gather strength.

While Tartine is a great resource, it gets complicated fast, and I find Elaine at Foodbod Sourdough to be more approachable. Although I made the starter from Tartine, I’m following Elaine’s recipe for my first loaf of bread.

The dough is now experiencing the joys of “bulk fermentation” in the refrigerator. I will bake the bread later this afternoon. You may expect a full report in the coming days.

Happy in the middle

I’ve always wanted to be great at something, but greatness has eluded me, and the reality is that I’m adequate and sometimes pretty good at lots of things. This used to make me sad and envious as I read accounts of gifted and accomplished people with tremendous passion for their crafts.

As I’ve gotten older and experienced the simple pleasures of retirement, it turns out I’m quite happy in the middle. I don’t have a singular focus that drives me and see myself as a dabbler of sorts.

Dale is the same, and we were discussing it over drinks one evening. What is the name for people like us? He thought Renaissance man might fit the bill – a person of broad talents or expertise. But then I would hardly put us in the same league as Leonardo da Vinci.

Then whilst Googling around, I read this description of the modern Renaissance man or woman:

In the simplest terms, a Renaissance man is a person with genuine competence in and understanding of multiple different fields, all of which complement one another to make him a more talented and productive person.

I also discovered fellow blogger Patricia Doyle at Retirement Transition addressed this very same topic in 2019. She wrote:

Modern day Renaissance woman (or man) loves learning (has a mindset of continual learning) and enjoys discovering more. She/he is not “meandering” but delving just deep enough to gain knowledge; she/he recognizes that not everything has to be “mastered.”

Sounds good to me!

cloudspotting for beginners

As if I don’t already have enough to amuse me, I have become a fledgling cloudspotter! This is a great pandemic hobby, much like bird watching, and you don’t even have to leave your house.

I’ve always loved clouds. I vividly remember taking swimming lessons as a child. Floating on my back between sessions and trying to give name to shapes I saw in the sky. Was it a dog? A horse? But I never made much of an effort to learn more about them. Until last week.

I was playing golf and distance-chatting with one of my partners, when she mentioned a podcast that talked about the Cloud Appreciation Society. It’s a cool website with lots of amazing cloud pictures. I haven’t joined yet, but I definitely want that Cloud Selector Identification Wheel.

In the meantime, I purchased The Cloudspotter’s Guide by Gavin Pretor-Pinney, founder of the Cloud Appreciation Society. He’s a very entertaining writer with lots of good stories about clouds, but it is quite techy. Dale can’t wait for me to finish so he can get started. His brain absorbs details better than mine.

Me? I’m looking for quick results, so I downloaded three free Android apps on Google Play to help with cloud identification.

Cloudspotting
Cloud-a-Day
Cloud Guide

My favorite so far is Cloud-a-Day, which has an Artificial Intelligence feature. I photograph a cloud formation, and it returns with a message:

Out of the 10 main cloud types, the Cloudspotter AI thinks it is this one.

Although there are 10 main cloud types, there are tons of sub-types and amazing rare cloud formations that even have special names. I’m just scratching the surface, but I’m seriously enjoying this new pleasure.

No aspirations involving greatness, but I’d like to get good enough to look up at the sky, and casually confirm, “Ah, cumulonimbus, thunderstorms likely.”

Working below one’s means

I’ve had a lot of “work” dreams and trying to make sense of them, I wondered whether it means I have unfinished business of some sort. I’m quite content with my retired life and do not want a job. So, what’s it all about, Alfie?

Dreams are so weird, and I don’t pretend to understand them. The work dreams are rarely good and usually replay the worst aspects of jobs I had during my career. My best guess is the dreams are a way for my mind to unravel the accumulated stress.

Yet there might be another take on it. When I mentioned the question about unfinished business to a friend, he said although I seemed quite content, he had to wonder if I was making the most of my life. Am I reaching my full potential? Perhaps that’s what the dreams are about.

We had a great exchange about what that means. In his view, it’s about living each year as if it’s your last … setting targets and doing more than what you’ve done before. I guess that’s what a lot of people are doing when they post their goals about reading 200 books before Easter.

That deal about year-over-year improvement is too jobbie for me. Stretch goals and all that. And I’m not sure the strategy was successful. In my workplace, we systematically weeded out steady performers who worked as a team in favor of individual superstars who fought over the last porkchop, making everyone miserable.

What if I don’t need to continuously improve myself? For the record, my friend is right … I am content! But here’s a radical thought. What if being content is actually what it means to reach my full potential? What if being alive is my greatest accomplishment? What if ordinary is good enough?

I’ve read a little about Taoism, sometimes known as Daoism, which is a Chinese philosophy that is very much about going with the flow. I love the idea that not reaching too far might be the essence of freedom.

The artist Pablo Picasso also had something to say about striving too hard:

You must always work not just within but below your means. If you can handle three elements, handle only two. If you can handle ten, then handle only five. In that way the ones you do handle, you handle with more ease, more mastery, and you create a feeling of strength in reserve.

I’m way calmer since Trump left office, and my sleep has been much less stressful. Not as many work dreams, which will hopefully continue to fade over time. Still, I’m glad I took the opportunity to reflect on the balance between being content and being productive.

While I applaud and respect those who drive themselves harder, there’s room for underachievers, too. If you are among those who resist excessive productivity, I hope you find pleasure in knowing you are not alone.

As for me, I am content to work below my means. It’s a sweet gig, actually.

Joy-makers

Intellectual distancing

As I write this, results of the U.S. election are still not known and may not be for days, possibly weeks? But I will say this. No matter who ultimately wins, lots of Americans still think Trump is an OK guy, and I think that’s a sign I need to stop paying so much attention to politics. I’m not going to waste my happiness capital on something I don’t understand and can’t control.

I’ll still make an effort to stay informed about what’s going on in the world, but I’m going to practice intellectual distancing. Why not? I’ve already nailed social distancing.

The rhetoric will read to me as blah, blah, blah, and then I will move onto something else. I’m done reading about anything Trump says or does. Although I’d like to see him exit the way they did it at work when someone’s bad behaviors finally caught up with them – escorted out of the building carrying a single box of their belongings.

Although I’m not much of an activist, if a crisis or cause should need my help, I’m there. What I need to do is cut off my emotional attachment to the outcome. In other words, you do what you can. Sometimes things go your way and sometimes they don’t. But keep your joy flowing. Maybe serious activists already know this. They are probably masters are compartmentalizing.

Joy-Makers

In spite of everything, there is much joy to be had, especially in retirement, which I consider life’s grand gift. It’s that whole simple pleasures thing. I haven’t been anywhere other than a golf course or the grocery store since March, but it’s not all bad.

I’ve been golfing a long time, but who knew it would turn out to be a great pandemic activity? Golf has been a joy-maker for me. Somehow the pandemic helped me with my mental game. I’m not easily frustrated anymore and just enjoy the challenges.

After a day out playing golf, I so look forward to a day at home with Dale. Breakfast, coffee, a few chores. Dinner – always our favorite subject. Last night, he outdid himself. Cordon Bleu, which are pockets of pounded-out veal stuffed with ham and cheese and then breaded and pan fried. Homemade French fries and a salad. A crisp Riesling to go with. I’m gonna have to do my long walk today just to feel moral again.

Dale made a batch of kimchi, and it’s ready to eat after fermenting for about a week. We like kimchi fried rice with a runny fried egg on top.

I made a batch of scones in my new scone pan. They came out beautifully, but the scones needed a lot more cooking time to get browned on the bottom and evenly cooked. I’ve made some notes to the recipe, so hopefully, it will be easier next time.

In the old days, I thought cookbooks were sacrosanct. You didn’t deface them with your primitive scribbles. Now I scrawl all over them, because otherwise you can’t keep track of changes you’ve made to the recipes. My notes have saved many a dinner.

Another joy-maker is my woodburning art. I still have no idea where all these little treasures will end up, but I do love making them. And I continue to learn – not only about art but about myself as well. For example, I started a project using one of the darker pieces of wood. I wanted some boldness to play against the dark and started with sort of an abstract tree-shaped thing with big splotches of black and white.

I was loving it, when Dale walked by and said, “Oh, a cow.” That was the last thing I was trying to convey. So, I started to de-cow it by adding additional colors, and I ruined it. Although I wasn’t mad at Dale, I was mad at myself and threw the damned thing away.

But then it occurred to me I let someone else’s opinion shape my vision. For me, it’s hard, but you’ve got to trust yourself. My next piece will definitely have some cow-like pattern.

This last piece of art was hard because I was coming off my big cow mistake, and I didn’t want to screw it up. Plus, the wood was quite damaged and hard to work with. I was facing the dreaded dealing-with-imperfection crisis, when I remembered – that’s the whole point of burning and coloring messed up wood. It’s already messed up! Anything I do to it makes it different and interesting.

Messed up but different and interesting. If that’s all anyone ever said about me, I’d be happy.

Work of a different sort

A couple of months ago, I wrote I would be changing the tagline of my blog, which was, “Aging badass with health, happiness and cannabis.”

I realize you aren’t breathless with anticipation about such routine blog matters, but your bookmarks might look funny as I work through the changes.

As my retirement journey evolves, I don’t think badass describes me well, unlike The Widow Badass, who definitely owns it and wins the prize for best blog name ever. And then there’s cannabis. I like it and continue to use it recreationally and medicinally but not as much as I expected. It doesn’t seem worthy of such prominent placement.

I’ve come to embrace the term slacker, as in a person who avoids work. Because I am definitely done with that pesky job thing. I changed the tagline to read, “The continuing adventures of a full-time slacker.”

Sounded great to me, but as I started to share the news with you, I looked up the definition, which described people who shirk obligation, particularly military service. Well, that would not be me! Perhaps I am being too literal, but I deleted that tagline and left the space blank. Is blank best?

As for retirement, I seem to have landed in a happy place devoid of ambition. I do what needs to be done around the house and that sort of thing, but the rest of my energy is focused on activities that give me pleasure. I see myself as the face of resistance to over-engineering retirement, which isn’t a contest to see who accomplishes the most.

In retirement, there are no performance reviews.

I updated my About Me profile to read:

My full-time job is to take care of myself, be kind to others, enjoy simple pleasures and indulge in creative pursuits. I like to play golf, walk, swim, cook, read, write, watch TV, listen to music, make art and grow cannabis.

That pretty much sums it up. Maybe I don’t need a tagline. I would love to hear your thoughts, if you should be so inclined.

THE PANDEMIC PRESIDENT

Like everyone else, I woke up to news that the president and his wife tested positive for COVID-19. I seriously hope this gives them some perspective on the pandemic … that maybe science is real? Maybe setting a positive example would be good for America? The other option is that he’ll only have mild symptoms and come back claiming he was right – no worse than a cold.

Whatever. He has been irresponsible, and now here we are.

Pizza!

Dale makes pizza almost every Friday. He makes the dough on Thursday and lets it rise in the refrigerator overnight. Tonight’s is one of my all-time favorites. It’s a white pizza with bechamel sauce made with parmesan cheese. That goes on the bottom, and then he tops it with mozzarella, smoked gouda, red onions, capers and smoked salmon.

We were going through the grocery list, and I said be sure to check the milk because you’ll need it for the bechamel. A few minutes later, he said, “Oh, and I’d better check the milk.”

I just said that.

No, you didn’t.

Yard work

We finished cleaning up the backyard without killing each other. It’s not going to win a yard beautiful contest, but it looks clean and well-maintained. Our unlimited yard waste day is next week, and we have 17 bags ready to go! There are some areas with small stones that have thinned out, so when the bags are gone, we’ll add more stones.

Then we’ll be pretty much done. There are bare spots in the beds along the fence line that could use plants, but now we can take our time and deal with that as the mood strikes us.

Oh, and we may replace the pavers. As for ongoing maintenance, we have a small patch of grass I usually mow with a push mower. It takes less than 10 minutes. An occasional blow and some spot trimming, and the yard becomes quite manageable.

Now the backyard looks good and the air quality is bad, so we’re not spending any time out there, but the smoke is supposed to clear soon. Fall is my favorite season, and it looks like we’re headed for some lovely weather.

I was grumbling about all the labor involved with this yard project, but it occurred to me I would rather take care of our home than hold down a regular job. I’d rather clean my house than work so I can pay someone else to clean my house.

Even though I fared quite well in the business world, I’ve always been somewhat contemptuous of the whole scene.

What does this button do?

Feeling stuck? Ask yourself, “What does this button do?”

One of the joys of retirement is the freedom to do whatever the hell you want. You might not know where you’re going, but you have time to wander aimlessly and see where the road takes you. Lately, I find myself turning into that funky side street looking for more, although there are days I’m happy with a quiet hollow where I can hunker down for a spell.

The beauty of retirement is that it’s all possible. When I was working, I restricted my range of experiences because time was limited, and my dance card was full. I still have plenty to keep me entertained and want no part of real work, but now l feel like a curious kid at the control panel asking, “What does this button do?”

For example, I wanted to try my hand at something artistic. I had never even been tempted by visual arts, but I thought, well, it’s now or never. I can’t draw or paint, but maybe I can do something else artsy, and it might be good for me.

I piddled around with stuff that didn’t stick, until I spotted pallet scraps headed for the trash and began to wonder what I could do with them. I bought a cheap woodburning tool and began to experiment with doodle-like designs. Because, seriously, I can’t draw. Next thing you know I’m adding color, and now they look kind of cool.

You may have noticed most of my hobbies are activity-based. Things I like to do. A skill, a game, a task. But what about things I’d like to know?

Surely, in all my journals, I’ve made a list of things that interest me. But, nooooooo. My lists are about things I like to do or things I’m good at. Yesterday, I created a new list, “Things That Interest Me.” I started with the usual suspects. Golf, cooking. Another list of activities. Caught in my own trap!

Perhaps a better list would be, “What Do I Like to Read About?” That’s a very different list. I love to play golf, but read about it? Not so much. Cooking, yes, I love to read about food and cooking. I like to grow cannabis, but I only want to read enough to produce a healthy crop. I have no real passion for the details of gardening.

I read a lot of crime fiction, and I actually do like to read about crime fiction as a genre, but in terms of nonfiction, most of my knowledge on any single topic is superficial. I know a little about a lot.

It would seem my intellectual curiosity has limits. That has certainly been the pattern, although I do see signs of progress. I attribute this to retirement. I just hit the three-year mark, and I’m getting used to having extra room in my brain. And right now, I’m excited by the prospect of taking a deeper dive into something that intrigues me. But what?

While I haven’t found that ONE BIG THING, I have an emerging interest in Tejano music. And that materialized by asking, “What does this button do?” I heard some music, I liked it, I went looking for more, I found new artists, new sounds and just kept pushing the button as the story of this music unfolded before me.

Sometimes I get excited about things, and then my interest fizzles. I’m eager to see how far I’ll go this time around. Tejano music might stick, because I like to listen to it while I work on my art, so there’s a synergistic effect.

Aside from using synergistic in a sentence, I’m actually tapping into my old work skills and starting a Tejano music spreadsheet to organize bits and pieces of information I’ve picked up along the way.

But no PowerPoint presentations. That’s a bridge too far.

Category: Learning

Your retirement elevator speech

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