Sporting my new Scrabble-themed mask as I head to the library for curbside pick-up.
Thanks to my exceptionally kind and talented sister, I am feeling quite stylish in my new Scrabble mask. I thought it would be fun to wear as I go to the library today for curbside pick-up of a book I had on reserve.
I don’t have a problem wearing a mask for my personal safety and the safety of others, and I have a hard time understanding those who do. Whatever it takes … that’s my thinking. Embrace reality and try not to disrespect the people who are trying to save us.
It seems like I’ve mentioned this before, but I will share it again. When I had cancer the first time, my chemotherapy regime was hard on the kidneys. My medical team said to drink a lot of water. So, you know what I did? I drank a lot of water.
When I talked with other women in the infusion room, I’d ask if they were drinking their water. It shocked me how many said no. One common response was, “I don’t like water.”
I wanted to scream, “This is your life! Who cares if you don’t like water?”
Anyway, pardon the commercial interruption. Be safe. May you continue to find joy in simple pleasures … even if it’s just a Scrabble mask.
Yes, we did snag some ground lamb at the grocery store, but the real treat was backup to the backup peanut butter for these easy and addictive cookies.
It’s definitely not business as usual where I live in northern California, but there are signs we may be able to safely enjoy some of our favorite activities as long as we accept conditions of the new normal. I love how businesses are adapting.
Golf
I played golf this week for the first time since early March. It varies from course to course, but significant changes have been made to eliminate touch points and accommodate social distancing.
My club, a modest public golf course, has done a great job on the things they can control, but I observed some sloppy behavior among the guests. I felt safe only because I took extra effort to stay safe.
Although I didn’t wear a mask while playing, I had several masks in my bag and put on a clean one whenever I approached anything resembling a crowd. I was careful to keep my distance but had to dance around my playing partners, who seemed oblivious to social distancing.
All in all, it was good day. I played well, and that surprised me. Sometimes they say a break in golf is good because you forget all the bad habits you developed. I had two birdies on the back nine! As for Dale, it was a good day for him, too. He liked having the house to himself.
Grocery Store
We went inside our favorite grocery store, which now requires that all associates and shoppers wear masks. An employee at the entrance checks for masks and wipes down a cart for you. People were well-behaved, and with some exceptions, the shelves were full. Plenty of produce and dairy but a little short on some kinds of meat. We got everything we needed.
The check-out lanes were marked to help people stay six feet apart, and there was a plastic shield between you and the cashier. Hand sanitizer stations by the doors. Unless something changes, I think we could do this every couple of weeks.
Winery
One of our favorite local wineries closed its tasting room, but you can order wine online and pick it up. They’re allowing one person in the tasting room at a time to purchase wine, or they’ll bring it to your car. Even if we can’t taste, it’s a lovely drive and will give us something to do.
Library
And yet another great innovation from the library! Prior to the lockdown, I had reserved a couple of books. One of them arrived – The Night Watchman by Louise Erdrich – and I got an email with a link, where I could make an appointment to have the book delivered to my car! Isn’t that cool?
The notice also included this message, “All materials have undergone an established waiting period and have been handled only by staff whose hands have been sanitized and who wear fabric face coverings.”
Backup to the Backup Peanut Butter
When we went to the store, I got backup peanut butter even though we already had backup peanut butter. I’m not hoarding, but I wanted to make peanut butter cookies, and the recipe calls for a cup of peanut butter. That’s actually quite a lot, and I didn’t want to raid our supply.
With the pantry fully loaded, I made the cookies. I like chocolate as much as the next person, but I lean toward anything made with brown sugar and nuts. These have got to be the easiest cookies ever, and I love them so much, I might never make them again.
We store the cookies in the freezer, so theoretically you’re not tempted. But that time is gone. Once frozen, they’re like peanut butter candy bars.
Peanut Butter Cookies
Few ingredients, easy and delicious to eat straight from the freezer.
1CupPeanut butter Not the natural kind that must be stirred … but any regular peanut butter is good, either crunchy or creamy.
1CupDark brown sugarMy preference. White sugar or light brown sugar also works.
1LargeEgg
Coarse sea saltOptional, but yum!
Instructions
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
Beat everything together until smooth. Drop by spoon or scoop onto an ungreased parchment-lined cookie sheet. Press each cookie slightly with fork or other tool. My dough was soft and the fork press wasn’t precise, but it did the job. You can also refrigerate the unbaked cookies for 20 minutes so you get a better press. Sprinkle lightly with sea salt. Bake for about 10 minutes, until just golden. Let cool completely. They’re soft if left at room temperature but crisp up in the freezer.
If you must have chocolate, take three or four chocolate chips and press them into the cookie before baking. They're delicious this way, too.
On the right, my fat little jar of home-ground cinnamon.
As the pandemic wears on, I’ve been contemplating the big picture and coming to terms with the idea there is no big picture. Or if there is, it’s too big for me to figure out, so I’d rather just ignore it.
Deep thinkers and perhaps those with strong spiritual beliefs might take issue with that sentiment, but it’s the little picture that keeps me reasonably sane … taking care of my mind and body, tending to relationships and living as well as I possibly can.
I’m not sure what the future will bring, but that’s nothing new. My guess is lockdown and semi-lockdown will continue for months and months. We have enough money to get what we need, and so far, we’ve been able to get pretty much everything we need without going inside a store.
If that’s reality for the foreseeable future, we’ll call ourselves lucky. And grateful. In the meantime, I’m focusing on simple pleasures.
I’ve been walking almost every day. In fact, I just got back from a nice walk and spent much of it thinking about social distancing on the road and other pedestrian safety tips, which I will share in an upcoming post. Remind me to mention the snake!
Much of life seems to revolve around food, but then it always did. We spend a good bit of time shopping for it online, going to pick it up and preparing it. As always, different stores have different things, and we are fortunate to have multiple options. We’re buying more pantry items, so I tidied up that area, and Dale started calling me Marie, as in Kondo. He said all the little cans were dress right dress, which is a military term that refers to being parallel.
Yeah, man. Nothing like parallel cans to settle your soul.
I’m more careful not to waste food. I froze milk in two-cup portions. They say the texture changes, but I only use it for cooking anyway. We used to buy ripe avocados and eat them the same day. You probably knew this, but you can buy them firm and let them ripen on the counter. It turns out avocados keep at least a week in the refrigerator once they’re ripe. A semi-gnarly apple is greatly enhanced when microwaved with cinnamon and brown sugar. A dollop of yogurt on warm apples is delicious!
There seems to be a cinnamon shortage with all the baking going on, but I had plenty of sticks, so I let them roll around in a dry frying pan on low heat to get some of the moisture out and then buzzed them up in a coffee grinder we reserve for spices. I added a smidgen of brown sugar because I read somewhere it helps the process along.
Oh, and you can freeze parsley and cilantro.
I wash the herbs well and spread them out on a bath towel, so as not to squander my precious paper towels. I pat the herbs dry and remove any thick stems. Divvy them up into smaller portions, put them in a zip lock, label and freeze. The texture changes a bit, so you might not have a pretty garnish, but the taste is great.
For dinner one night I made baguettes, and we just allow them to be the star of the show with good olive oil, brie and Italian cold cuts. I tossed fresh spinach with vinegar and sea salt and had that on the side.
Dale periodically freezes raw scraps of veal, pork and beef that are left over from other dishes, and yesterday he used the Kitchen Aid with the grinder attachment to turn the scraps into meatballs. We had spaghetti and meatballs, and they were the best meatballs I’ve ever had. We were going to have leftover baguettes on the side, but someone ate them all!
Tonight’s dinner is Chiapas pork from the freezer. Dale made it a month or two ago, and we had tons of leftovers. It’s basically a pork shoulder marinated, spiced and cooked in the oven until falling apart in a puddle of delicious sauce. To go with, we have fresh shredded romaine lettuce, sliced onion and homemade blue corn tortillas. We eat them like tacos.
I did a little yard work, my least favorite simple pleasure, but the weather is lovely, and I guess it wasn’t so bad. The air quality is amazing with so many cars off the road.
Of course, we’re both in a funk of sorts. I had a meltdown about a week ago and have since felt reasonably calm and content. It was during the meltdown I said, “I’m just gonna go outside and ask people to spit on me.” I call that my rock bottom, and it has been nothing but up since.
Dale doesn’t do meltdowns, but I would say his low point was after we got back from the grocery store, because that was his happy place, and it’s not anymore. It also turns out Dale is much more extroverted than I am. He misses even the smallest interactions with clerks and neighbors.
We’ve talked through it, not without pain mind you, but we’re still a unit, committed to getting through this healthy, happy and together. I read about relationships being stressed right now, and my favorite line was something like this:
Don’t search for the perfect partner. Try to be the perfect partner.
I could tell Dale needed some comfort food and suggested burgers. We have everything for that, and he jumped right on it. We’re taking an indulgence break and will have burgers tonight. Then it’s back to broccoli on Friday.
We talked about playing board games, and I did an inventory of our toy chest:
Risk
Monopoly
Othello
Scrabble
Yahtzee
Backgammon
Dominoes
Pente
Cribbage
Most of these have been sitting idle for some time. This might be the 70s talking, but I don’t remember anything about Othello or Pente. Dale doesn’t like Scrabble or Yahtzee, my two favorites, so we’re going to start with backgammon. We used to play a lot and have a beautiful board we bought in Egypt. We’ll need to brush up on the rules.
We both used to like cribbage, but his mother was a fanatic, and we both got burned out on it during one of her visits many years ago. Perhaps enough time has passed that we can try it again.
Other unexpected items that showed up in the toy chest during my inventory include:
German flag
Survival cards
Mexican game with cup and ball on a string
Multiple decks of playing cards
Phantom of the Opera mask
Latin dictionary
Arabic at a glance
English-French dictionary
Eisenhower postage stamps
How about you? Are you playing any games while in confinement? What’s in your toy chest?
The weather in northern California was beautiful this week. We get a great view of the sunrise from our backyard. In the forefront is Gladys, my yard art project from last year. The final trim and weigh-in of my first homegrown cannabis plant.
This week felt busy to me, like my dance card was full, but then my definition of busy is evolving as I enter my third year of retirement.
Monday
Golf. Walked 18 holes. In the evenings, I watched a lot of
Outlander, which is not unlike golf. One bad thing after another. You think you’re
done, but you go back to see what happens next. Dale sautéed sole filets for
dinner, and I made a big salad topped with candied walnuts and crumbled goat
cheese.
Tuesday
House elf. Vacuumed, mopped, etc. while a contractor was refinishing the tub in our guest bath. Dale made a commissary run (like Costco for military retirees). I defrosted homemade soup for lunch. Red lentil, chickpea and spinach curry with a dollop of sumac-seasoned yogurt. When Dale returned, I went to the fitness club to swim laps and do weights. That soup talked back! Dale made barbecued beef ribs and marinated cucumbers for dinner.
Wednesday
Golf. Walked 18 holes. I took a different route to the golf
course without using my smart phone map because Dale insists variety and
getting there without help is good for my brain.
Finished trimming my home-grown cannabis, weighed it and put it in a jar to cure for two weeks. My yield was about 1/3 ounce or 10 grams. The cheapest weed I can buy at the dispensary is $320 per ounce. Mine was about $265 per ounce. I’m confident I can do better next time with a bigger pot and warmer weather.
For dinner, we split a small Marie Callender’s frozen pot
pie. We each get a handful of fried crinkle cuts from the freezer to go with. What
can I say? It’s our shameful processed food indulgence.
Thursday
Dentist. I go three times a year for cleaning because I lost the genetic lottery. The hygienist said “alignment issues” mean I have to work harder than most people to keep my teeth and gums in good shape. That should be on my tombstone, “She Tried Hard.” I use a water flosser and regular floss and an electric toothbrush – and that just barely gets me in the door.
Golf lesson. The guy I used to take lessons from had unrealistic expectations about what my body could do. My new teacher is a petite woman who understands a sharp short game makes up for what we lack in strength. She taught me a different way to use my wedge around the greens. Stopped at the fitness club to swim laps and do weights. Dale made whole roasted chicken and smashed potatoes for dinner. I steamed broccoli to go with.
Friday
Monthly 90-minute massage. When I got home, Dale was waiting to see if I wanted supermarket sushi for lunch. What a guy! Off we went to the market for pizza ingredients and sushi, which we enjoyed out on the patio. It was a beautiful day.
We spent the rest of the afternoon doing yard work. I have a collapsible golf net in the back, so after I mowed our little patch of lawn, I set up the net and practiced my new wedge shot. Dale made pizza for dinner. Kitchen sink, as we call this version, with mushrooms, fresh garlic, green peppers, Kalamata olives, pepperoni and Italian sausage.
Wrap-Up
Dale did most of the cooking. When I was working, he was always the main chef. In retirement, I started cooking more and voicing more opinions about what we eat. It has been kind of a struggle to renegotiate our new roles.
Normally, I like to get it all out in the open, but I’m learning not everything needs to be said. Without introduction or fanfare, I’ve started to focus more on special things I like to cook and leaving most dinners to Dale. He probably wouldn’t acknowledge this, which is why we’re not telling him, OK? But with me having been the principal money earner, I think he liked being the provider, at least the provider of dinner.
My dastardly plan seems to be working. I’m still cooking, but I’m finding my niche. Dale enjoys feeding me, and I enjoy being fed. We’re both mellower, and I have more time to goof off!
My cinnamon hand pie.Dale grilling tomatillos and peppers for Chile Verde.Tomatillos and peppers grilling for Chile Verde.
The weather turned unseasonably warm and dry, although it’s chilly in the morning and evening. We need the rain, and actually, I’m a precipitation convert. I like it now that I’m retired and can stay home and be cozy.
Politics is maddening and depressing, so I’m trying to ignore it and focus on simple pleasures. Mostly food, with exercise thrown in, because, you know, the food …
Exercise
My favorite golf course is much more enjoyable when it’s dry, so I’m playing all I can before we get another downpour. I always walk … a good five miles. I’m amazed by the number of able-bodied people who take a cart on a walkable course. The same people who wait 15 minutes for a parking space closer to the store.
The swimming pool at my fitness club is lovely, although I witnessed an altercation there this week. I was quietly swimming laps, imagining I was in the Caribbean, when I heard a ruckus. I stopped mid-lane to discover the lady next to me yelling at the guy one lane over. The woman does not swim but runs and hops around in the pool to music.
Apparently, she didn’t like where the guy was about to start swimming. He had his own lane, but I guess it was too close for comfort. He suggested they switch lanes to give her more room, and she suggested he go to the other side of the pool (or somewhere else). I stayed out of it, returning to the bliss of the Caribbean. Good grief, people. Chill out.
When I finished my swim, it appeared neither compromised in any form or fashion, so then I began to wonder if they were married. Ha, ha.
Food
The warmer weather somewhat foils my winter cooking plans. Still on my agenda are stuffed cabbage rolls and a casserole made with layers of sauerkraut, rice, ground pork, smoked sausage, bacon and sour cream. I know. A weird artery killer, but dag, it’s good.
The New York Times charges extra (beyond the basic subscription level) to access most of its food section, but this feature on one-pot wonders seems freely accessible. I print internet recipes and put them in a three-ring binder. Easier than a scrapbook.
Although I’ll need more rain or at least a cold snap to make this recipe, Dijon and Cognac Beef Stew looks spectacular. I love this quote from the recipe’s author:
“Whoever said cooking should be entered into with abandon or not at all had it wrong. Going into it when you have no hope is sometimes just what you need to get to a better place. Long before there were antidepressants, there was stew.”
Regina Schrambling
I finally made cinnamon hand pies from “When Pies Fly” by Cathy Barrow. While I’ve tried crust recipes from Martha Stewart, Rose Levy Beranbaum and the rest, I never mastered all-butter crust until I did it Cathy’s way. Everything is cold, and you use the food processor, but it doesn’t come together in a clump. You squish the dough together afterward in plastic wrap, roll it into a block and then refrigerate overnight.
Super yummy! Of course, I made that all-butter crust, but I think it would be easy to use any crust, including store-bought, and a simple filling of brown sugar, a bit of flour, cinnamon and nutmeg to taste. Add just enough melted butter to make a crumble and use a cookie scoop to fill the pie before pressing down the edges of the crust with a fork. Vent the top. I baked mine at 400 degrees for about 25 minutes.
As the weather seems to be transitioning, kind of cold but kind of not, Dale figured out how to make the best of both worlds. A hearty Chile Verde and homemade flour tortillas for a chilly night … but … with some outdoor prep time in the sun when the temps were in the 60s!
Compromise. Just another pro tip for relationships and cooking.
Many retirees live to travel, but we are not among them. Why
not?
Aside from being happy homebodies, we traveled a lot when we were young, and travel isn’t what it used to be. We’re on vacation every day and don’t need a break. We live well and cook great food at home.
Plus, we’re bad at travel. Dale won’t plan, and I over-plan, researching hotels and restaurants in search of the perfect experience. We’re almost always disappointed and sad to see the money go.
We did some soul-searching and figured out a few things. For
some of us, traveling was easier before retirement, because we knew more money
was coming in. Right? Time to earn it back. When there’s a fixed pot at the end
of the rainbow, you tend to be more cautious. At least we are.
There’s no one-size-fits-all for retirement travel. Easy for some, not so much for others. Still, most of us do want to enjoy new experiences. Maybe it’s just a matter of figuring out what we like and don’t like and learning to do it better.
One thing we learned this week is that we’re sort of low-brow people in search of a low-rent rendezvous. We went to Napa for an overnight trip, and it was an expensive letdown. The wineries were lovely, but later it seemed like we had opened our wallets to charming thieves and said, “Here, take it.”
A big deal up Napa way is bringing your own wine to a
restaurant. Best as I can tell, there are rules. You don’t bring a wine they
serve at the restaurant. It should be something special. They charge a “cork”
fee unless it’s a special day where they don’t charge to uncork your wine, but
even then, there’s an etiquette to tipping and tasting. Of course, they stick
it to you on the wine if you order theirs.
We had beer! And that was the best part of our meal.
Food … we’re all about food and thought planning a trip around the restaurant would be ideal. I spent hours researching options. And then we ended up with mediocre food that cost too much.
However, there were locals at the bar, and what did my little eye spy but a wine purse! For the bring-your-own uncorking ritual. That’s when I knew this was not our tribe. When I think of purses and wine, I might recall the 70s, when one might have wanted something to throw up in.
I came home in a foul mood and tried to think of our best
vacations. What have we forgotten?
Our favorite trips were to unpretentious places where we spent the day absorbing gorgeous natural scenery – walking, hiking, scuba diving. Moderately strenuous but not grueling. We quit backpacking years ago because it’s hard, and the food sucks. And beer is heavy.
We camped or stayed in a modest lodge. You didn’t have to dress up. We ate whatever was there because we were hungry. And it was good! Oh, and one might have a couple of beers or a glass of wine with dinner and then read for a while before going to bed early.
I’m confident there are better and less expensive ways to explore the wine country. We’ll go back at some point. For now, we are going to focus on visiting natural wonders, and there’s no shortage of them within a few hours of our home. Dale’s on board and said he’s eager to visit Death Valley.
In the summer.
Because then you know what it feels like to be in Death
Valley in the summer.
I spoke with a former colleague this week, and he had nothing
good to say about work. I tried to listen and be supportive, but the whole time
I was thinking how happy I am to be done with all that.
The thing is, when I was into it, I was into it. I was paid
well and am still reaping the benefits of long-term compensation. For the most
part, I enjoyed the work and loved being a leader. I could have stayed a couple
more years, but I had already had cancer twice, I was getting older and wanted a
healthier lifestyle that wasn’t all about work.
I started visualizing the future, and then a couple of bad bosses
and ridiculous expectations set me on the path to retirement, which might be
the best thing that ever happened to me. I love being retired!
These days I do have a job – live well, stay healthy and be
happy. You could say it’s my dream job.
The job is evolving. When I first retired, I experimented
with arts and crafts. I might dabble from time to time, but it just didn’t stick.
I’m surprised to discover I don’t care much about fashion or style. I did when
I was working, but that was all part of the game. Now I dress for comfort and convenience.
When I dress, I think, could I wear this later if I go for a
walk or hit balls on the driving range or would I have to change clothes? Mostly
I wear stretchy things that go anywhere. And running shoes. Even though I don’t
run. Supportive. Good for my back, my knees. Ready for action.
I sometimes thought of myself as a role-model for aging well,
but that seems arrogant. I would like to go back and delete some of the content
I’ve written I now see as preachy. I’m focused on just loving my life, doing
the best I can with what I have and throwing it all out there for others to
read about.
As my thinking evolves, I expect the blog to evolve as well.
I haven’t decided exactly what I’ll do just yet, but I see changes coming. I’m
probably going to ditch the word badass in my tagline. I feel great, but I don’t
feel badass.
My topics are likely to focus on the core things that excite
me. I’ve occasionally ranted about politics, but I’m not continuing down that
path. Ditto for advice on retirement planning. And while golf is a big part of
my life, I don’t write about it much because I don’t think it’s of interest to
many people. I also walk and swim, but so what? Not much to say about that.
The things I love that readers also seem to care about are food,
cooking, cannabis, crime fiction and funny stories about relationships.
I’ll give some thought to reorganizing the blog around these
focus areas. I’m inclined to leave all the old content there, even though I don’t
like some of it anymore, because it does reflect my journey. Gotta figure out a
way to share stories about cooking and food without pretending to be a food
blogger. Finally, I like to keep my word count under 700 and will be more diligent
to keep it tight.
Anyway, that’s where I am on this Super Bowel Sunday. Dale and I don’t care for football, but we’re thinking about food anyway … keeping with the party theme. We have leftover roasted chicken, and I’m voting for Dale’s killer chicken tortilla soup. I’ll make an appetizer of baked cheddar olives wrapped in a flaky pastry dough.
Oh, and beer! We’re currently featuring Panic IPA in
the kegerator. That’s my artwork on the door. My talent knows no limits.
Many thanks for contributing to the discussion about TV streaming options. I sincerely appreciate the recommendations. I wasn’t going to subscribe to anything, but now I’m leaning toward Netflix and Britbox. Go big or go home. I can always cancel.
In other news, today is colonoscopy prep day. The procedure
is first thing tomorrow morning. Clear liquids all day and then Colon Blow 2020
starting at 6 p.m. I am not amused.
For the record, this is not my first rodeo. I’ve been on the five-year plan since 1999, when I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Like just about everyone else, I’d say the procedure itself is fine, but prep is the worst. This time it seems worse than normal. Previously, I’d do the colon blow earlier in the day and be done in time to get a decent night’s sleep.
But, oh, no. Now they have this thing called split dosage. I’m to do half of it at 6 p.m. and the other half at 2 a.m. I called to confirm, because I couldn’t imagine they expected me to be awake at 2 a.m. Sadly, that is exactly what they expect.
When I explained to Nurse Ratched I’ve never had to get up at 2 a.m. for colonoscopy prep, she almost barked and said, well, things change! That was it. Then another nurse called me for a pre-op discussion, and she was kinder and more informative. Basically, she said they’ve learned the split dosage does a better job of cleaning out the colon.
I’m all about clean colons. Hell, yeah. I’m in, but I still think it’s ridiculous. Here’s my conspiracy theory regarding the new colonoscopy prep:
In the old days, you went to see your gastroenterologist, and it went on from there. Now there are clinics that do pretty much nothing but colonoscopies. You don’t even meet your doctor until you’re naked on the table.
There is no medical basis for my opinion, just a rant
really, but I believe the colonoscopy mills eliminated any personal attention or
nuance, and they want the biggest blow-out this stinking desert has ever seen so
they can get through it faster and do more.
There, I said it. I’m probably wrong. It’s all for my medical safety, blah, blah, blah. And I know one day of unpleasantness is nothing compared to colon cancer.
I hope you’re having a great Sunday. Me? Not so much. However, I leave you with this sweet article about an ex-prisoner and how he spends his Sundays. Highlights are good coffee and hot lavender baths.
It’s all about simple pleasures!
And speaking of simple pleasures, as clear liquids go, I have to say lemon Jello is not all bad. Not bad at all. But it would be better with whipped cream.
It has been more than a year since I quit Netflix. No real reason other than the price went up slightly, and I didn’t watch it often. I honestly haven’t missed it.
However, we were channel surfing over the holidays and ended up watching Caddyshack. I’ve seen it multiple times, of course, but it had been years. We laughed so hard, and it felt good to be released from the prison of daily newsfeeds that suck me in. Caddyshack was great, even with commercials.
My favorite Ty Webb quote: “I don’t play golf for money, against people.”
While I love golf and work hard to keep improving, I’ve finally accepted I do not care for competition, so now I’m focusing more on the simple pleasures of the game. And that brings me back to the simple pleasures of watching a good show on TV.
Golf and life – how they do intersect.
Currently, I watch stuff on Amazon Prime. There’s a lot of
good content that comes free with Prime, and I like the “pay by the drink” formula
for new movies that never seem to make their way to Netflix. Lately I’ve been
thinking of re-subscribing to Netflix. We are not on a super-strict retirement budget,
so it’s not a financial issue. I just hate wasting money on services and goods
I don’t need or use regularly.
But that might change. Although I am an avid reader, I also enjoy movies and binge-worthy series. After watching Caddyshack and cracking up for an hour and a half, I’m thinking I should indulge more. Not just comedies but a variety of entertainment. For example, I paid Amazon a few bucks for a season of Outlander, which is also available on Netflix.
By the way, I’m about to start episode 6 of Outlander, and if Claire and Jamie don’t have sex soon, I’m outtie.
Subscribing to a streaming service comes down to how I want to live my life. While I do think it’s important to keep learning, I’m not much into self-improvement as a retirement hobby. When I first retired, it seemed like everyone was saying we needed to reinvent ourselves to stay relevant or be worthy of retirement.
Now I realize I’m already worthy, and retirement is not a competition to see who is the most productive or the most evolved. Everyone is different, and retirement is (finally) our time to focus on what makes us happy.
As for me, I’m happy to spend a lot of time walking, swimming, playing golf, cooking and otherwise moving around. Kicking back during my downtime to watch more movies also appeals to me. A small thing if it brings pleasure.
