Just keep going

I hope this doesn’t come across as preachy, but I was feeling sorry for myself and thinking about how much all this sucks, when I took a moment to reflect on my first cancer experience. Like many others with cancer on their resume, I gained perspective the hard way. Perhaps there’s a nugget here that will resonate with you.

The year was 1999. I was 43 years old. I had outpatient surgery in March – an attempt to figure out what was wrong with me. That’s when they discovered I had an unusual form of ovarian cancer that forms in the lining of the abdomen.

Lots of doctor appointments, lots of tests, lots of unknowns and lots of fear. The big surgery was in April. I learned it was Stage 3, Grade 3. The survival statistics were terrible – about a 30 percent chance of living five years.

I went home to recover and prepare for chemotherapy.

The treatment was basically six months of intravenous chemotherapy, which I think I finished toward the end of August. I fared pretty well through the ordeal, but it was no pleasure cruise. Then I had to recover enough from the chemotherapy to face another surgery in October. Although all signs indicated the cancer was gone, it has a high recurrence rate, and the doctor wanted to do what is called a second-look.

They go in and biopsy the crap out of everything. If all is clear, you’re done with chemo. If they find microscopic cancer, you get more chemo. I had no evidence of disease and have been fine ever since, except for breast cancer in 2015. 

For the first two years after treatment in 1999, I went to the doctor every two months for a check-up. That included a pelvic exam, blood tests and sometimes a CT scan of the abdomen. After two years, I graduated to every six months, and that went on for three years. After five years, I started going once a year, which I still do, although now it’s just a blood test and a howdy-do.

After every appointment ending with an all-clear, I’d think, another two months to live! Another six months to live! Another year to live! It was kind of a joke, but life was what happened between appointments.

I wanted to share this because it made me feel better about life’s most recent curve balls. We’re what? Six months in? I know it’s not the same. My illness didn’t impact the world or the economy or anyone’s job. As I was recovering, I could go to restaurants and parties and otherwise lead a normal life. I was lucky.

Still, statistically speaking, the odds were against me. I could cocoon myself in a bubble, but the very real threat of getting sick and dying was with me for years, no matter what I did. I learned to live with ambiguity, and I just kept going. I’m certainly not alone. Somebody reading this or someone you know is living with a life-threatening illness or a deep personal tragedy, and yet they just keep going.

Maybe that’s it in terms of the message here. Just keep going. And this might be a cop-out, but I try not to think too much about the big picture. It’s too big. There are smarter and stronger people who can take on the world, but when the shit hits the fan, I do better by focusing on small things that make me happy.

It’s like I’ve been saying all along. Simple pleasures. I don’t know any other way to get through this.

No place like home?

Crazy hair

Dale hasn’t had a decent haircut in months, but then neither have I. He feared he was starting to look like Ted Kaczynski (the Unabomber). The closest comparison for me would be Saruman. Quite the pair we are. It sounds like the beginning of a joke. The Unabomber and Saruman walk into a bar …

I’ve gone after Dale’s hair a couple of times with the beard trimmer, but it was not the right tool for the job. I finally caved and purchased a real hair trimmer on Amazon.

Wow – what an amazing tool! I cut his hair this morning, and it looks fantastic. He normally likes a #3 at the barber shop, but I started out with a #4 to be on the safe side. At just under $50, we’ll recoup our investment in no time.

The comparison to Ted is interesting. When we lived in Texas, we visited Big Bend National Park and took a side trip to Terlingua, a quirky ghost town. According to local lore, Ted’s brother, David, the normal one, lived in a hand-dug hole in the ground for a couple of years while he built his cabin nearby.

I’m not sure what David is up to these days, but Ted is in prison, and it looks like he’s getting regular haircuts.

let her eat cake

Dale’s off to order my birthday cake. My birthday is Sunday, but I requested a Saturday pick-up. Extra points if you can guess why. My sister got it in 2.5 seconds …

So, I can eat it for breakfast Sunday morning! Duh.

I have a picture of last year’s cake and asked if he wanted me to text it to him so he’d have a visual aid. He’s like, I think I got this. White cake, white buttercream frosting, puffy 3-D roses, as in not flat, but absolutely no red. You’d be amazed how a simple cake order can go wrong, but all that’s in the past.

Rewarding Disloyalty

Michael Cohen’s book, Disloyal, comes out today. I don’t expect many new revelations, but I’m getting it just the same. Partly because I want to reward Cohen for being disloyal to Trump and partly because I keep thinking there’s a tipping point, and maybe just one more book or one more article will do the job and boot the man out of our lives forever.

Where to go when the volcano blows

I had a brief driveway conversation with my neighbor, who also despises Trump. Fully masked and well over six feet apart, we were wondering where we can go if he is reelected. I don’t think Canada or New Zealand will take us. Too old, not enough money.

Then we started talking about the pandemic, the fires. I said Dale has started to call me a fair-weather Californian. I love this state, but I do confess … lately I’ve been wondering if it’s worth it. Dale pointed out no place feels worth it right now, and of course, he’s right. And no matter where you go, there’s some sort of natural disaster looming. Nothing is perfect.

We’re actually in a pretty good place in terms of risk. Out of the city but not in the woods. Reasonable cost of living by California standards. Lower risk of flooding and earthquakes than many areas around here.

My neighbor said a house down the street sold for a high asking price in one day. I asked who was buying. She said Bay Area people who can now work from home – they can get a lot of house for their money here in the outer reaches of the Sacramento suburbs as opposed to San Francisco.

It sounds tempting to sell, but where would we go? This is our home, and we’re here for the long haul. I put a lot of time into researching retirement locations, and even with all that’s going on, Dale and I are both happy with where we live.

In closing, I’ll leave you with my new email signature. You heard it here first!

Stay safe, and vote once.

Music to burn wood by

This will be a short post because I’ve been screwing around all afternoon trying to get this image set up so when you click on it, a light box pops up, and you can see the details. How hard should that be? It might work … try it!

I messed around with the gallery, too. Hopefully an improvement, but my brain is fried at this point.

I’m excited to share this latest sample of my pallet art. I hope it’s not too boring. My goal is part show-and-tell and part inspiration. I had absolutely no interest in art prior to retirement, and now it’s becoming a big part of my life. I even dream about it and wake up with new ideas.

In this example, I drew all the images with a pencil first. Mainly because there’s a lot of layering … and it’s easy to mess that up in real time. Then I burned in all the pencil lines with my woodburning tool. After all the burning was done, I used a combination of standard pencils and oil-based pencils to add color. Finally, I sealed it with two layers of spray-on varnish.

My favorite one so far! For some reason, I’ve become addicted to Tejano music with lots of accordions. I dedicate this piece to Flaco Jiménez, one of the best accordionists in the business. His music keeps me burning.

Hoarding unflavored gelatin

Unflavored Gelatin Shortage?

Toilet paper, hand sanitizer, disinfectant wipes and other commodities that were off the radar for awhile seem to be back in stock, but have you looked for unflavored gelatin? I couldn’t find it online or in any store I visited. I did a Google search and found some food message boards with people asking if anyone else has noticed a shortage of unflavored gelatin.

I use unflavored gelatin to make marshmallows or occasionally something like a salmon mousse. I like to have some in the pantry, and I was completely out. After a couple of weeks, our local store had a box – but it was a 32-pack.

Bought it. It felt sort of like hoarding, but marshmallows can’t be silenced.

Although I don’t know what the issue is, in some ways, the 32-pack seems like a pretty slick marketing move.

Convince people there’s a shortage. No more of the little orange boxes to be found. Then introduce the jumbo supply of unflavored gelatin, and your sales immediately increase. I’m no marketing expert, but even I can see the flaws in this theory. The jumbo box is actually a lifetime supply, so when the surge is over, it’s over.

All that to say, I see marshmallows in my future.

Cannabis Kitty

In other serious matters, my cat has discovered marijuana. I have a small plant growing indoors, and all of the sudden, he was like, gee, I wonder what that is? Riley likes to sit on the window ledge and chomp on the leaves. He does not seem worse for the wear.

I researched it, and it seems lots of cats like to chew on the leaves. But they aren’t getting high, because the THC has not been activated by heat, and the leaves are pretty benign to begin with. I’m trying not to stress about it.

Welcome to Medicare

I’m officially on Medicare! I will turn 65 later this month, but Medicare went into effect today. I mentioned it to Dale when I got in the car with him to run an errand, and I said, “Don’t make me have to use it.” We have serious differences about how to drive and how to park.

But we do agree politically, so at least it’s not like living in the Conway family (of Kellyanne and George fame). I think I’d have to run away from home.

Anyway, the premiums are either deducted from your Social Security or paid quarterly. Unless something changes, I don’t plan on taking Social Security until my full retirement age, which is 66 and two months. I made my first quarterly payment.

I didn’t know this at first, and you might not either, but some of us pay more for Medicare than others, because they base it on your income taxes. My company paid out some long-term incentives that increased our income for two years after I retired, resulting in a higher Medicare premium.

Our income is back to retirement normal now, so the system should catch up and reduce our premiums within a couple of years. We file jointly, and Dale’s are higher, too, but he doesn’t notice, since it’s deducted from his Social Security.

This will also be the first year of getting the super-sized flu shot for those 65 and older. Yet another exciting milestone! I guess I’ll wait until late September or early October so it will last the whole season.

Groundhog Day all over again

I’ve been dreaming about going back to work. These are real nighttime dreams – not aspirational thinking. In one dream, President Obama asked me to come back to Texas, where I was needed in the defense industry. I said yes, I mean, for America, sure, but when I woke up, I was like, fuck, that was dumb.

In reality, I have no interest in a job. I thought a lot about why I’m having these dreams, and I believe it’s about a search for distraction. We’re living this Groundhog Day existence, and I’ve grown quite sick of the whole thing. Pandemic, fires, air quality, racism, politics – you name it, and I’m sick of it.

Work is the ultimate distraction. For years, a job served me well in my quest for something else to think about besides the crap that infiltrates my brain.

I’m convinced some people don’t want to retire, because then you don’t have that distraction anymore, and you kind of have to figure out who you really are. What’s your core value as a human being, and how are you going to spend your time on the planet?

Heavy stuff. In many ways, work is easier. Wouldn’t you rather be mad at your boss than mad at yourself?

That said, I’m still all about resisting the pressure to conform and perform. I’m post-job, living the Bohemian heiress lifestyle, dabbling in what amuses me, and I’m all the better for it.

Methinks it’s just a touch of cabin fever right now. I do believe we will get through this mess one way or the other, and I look forward to celebrating in grand style. Maybe even get on an airplane and go somewhere.

I know. Crazy talk.

lost in space

We actually have a favorite sausage market in Sacramento, but it closed after a big fire earlier this year. The brats were as good as any I had in Germany. A friend recommended another sausage market in Lockeford, a rural community about an hour from our house. Dale and I decided to take a road trip.

I had my phone, but I wasn’t sure about cellular service, so we packed a real map, and I wrote down the general directions. In the town of Ione, we got to a critical juncture in the journey – left, right or straight ahead – and the phone flipped out. First, it said I lost cellular data. Then it started telling me to make all kinds of crazy turns.

We tried straight ahead, and that didn’t work. We turned around and came back to the juncture, turning right. There was a remarkable absence of highway signs, and we weren’t sure we were on the right road, but to quote Bruce Springsteen, we took a wrong turn, and we just kept going.

The landscape was dry and barren and looked like Mars.

Dale was excited to pass Rancho Seco, a decommissioned nuclear generation plant. Oh, the sights to behold! And we can now say we’ve been to Galt, all 5.9 square miles of it.

In the end, we added about 30 minutes to our trip. We found the sausage market, loaded up and got on the correct road going back. I was curious to see where we’d land when we hit Ione, where we made all the wrong choices.

As we drove into the town, it became clear we should have made a left. Well, now we know.

Dale grilled one of the brats last night, and it was delicious, but I actually prefer the brats from Sac, which were emulsified like a hot dog. The brats from Lockeford were chunky. Still good, but I need to see if the other place is rebuilding. One can only hope.

lime squeezing happiness

To end on a bright note, as proof positive there is still good in the world, I bought a new citrus juicer, and it’s the most amazing kitchen tool I’ve purchased in years.

I highly recommend this little gadget, especially if you have weak wrists and enjoy lime-based cocktails (just an example). It sucks the juice right out and leaves a little more than a hockey puck as residue.

Life among the hermetically sealed

I was preparing for locusts when the fires came. The fires are a good distance from us. We are safe, but the air quality is terrible. We weren’t going anywhere anyway. Now we’re hermetically sealed. I haven’t been outside in days.

Key words: We are safe.

Nothing to complain about. Many indoor amusements.

Art (or something like it)

I’m still having fun with my woodburning art. If nothing else, it’s a wonderful distraction while spending days on end at home. I didn’t want to clutter up the house with my masterpieces, so my completed projects are hanging in the garage until I decide what to do with them.

I asked a friend to look at my online gallery and pick out one for herself. She chose my favorite one so far! I used oil-based pencils for the deep, bold colors and standard colored pencils for areas with subtle shading. I love the range of reds and yellows, which she said will complement her living room furniture.

Pallet scrap burned and embellished with a combination of oil-based pencils and standard colored pencils.

I’m experimenting with a new technique on my current piece. I’ve used an acrylic paint glaze to color the larger areas, and now I’m adding a background design with burned-in dots. The glaze is sort of rustic looking, and I even sanded a little bit over it to roughen it up more. The glazing process is time-consuming, but I seem to have plenty of time on my hands.

Work in progress — the blots are colored with an acrylic glaze, and I’m adding a dotted pattern in the background.

Books & TV

On the entertainment front, I’ve been watching Anne with an E on Netflix. There are only three seasons, and I will be sad when it ends. Total escapism. The series is based on the Anne of Green Gables books, which I never read as a child. Sometimes childhood classics don’t hold up when you read them as an adult, but I still might give the series a try.

I’ve also found some books only seem to be written for children or young adults. I read all the Tarzan books in my 20s and loved them. Just so you know, Jane was badass! Other children’s books I’ve read as an adult include the Harry Potter novels, A Wrinkle in Time and The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. I also love the Stuart Little and Paddington Bear movies.

There’s something simple and healing about stories for young audiences. I might just make a regular thing of it. Do you have any favorite children’s books or movies you’ve enjoyed as an adult?

Food

As a foodie, I highly recommend the Food Network series, Amy Schumer Learns to Cook. She and her chef husband are quite the opposites and hilarious together. He likes to cook with fennel, and her reactions are priceless.

We went on another Mexican kick this week. Sometimes we just can’t stop ourselves. Dale made carnitas one night, I made chicken tacos another. Oh, and a dish I jokingly call huevos dineros. It’s my twisted version of huevos rancheros amped up for dinner. A crisp corn tortilla topped with homemade chili sauce, Cheddar cheese and a runny fried egg, accompanied by shredded iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, sliced avocados and a dollop of sour cream.

Today I’m making an overnight no-knead dough that will magically produce baguettes tomorrow. We’ll have those with a ripe Brie, Italian cold cuts and maybe some smoked salmon. Greens on the side. My sister sent us a beautiful assortment of balsamic vinegar, which will certainly have an important role in this meal.

Today’s dinner is unknown at this point, but we swore an oath it will be vegetable-centric to make up for the excesses we enjoyed earlier in the week.

My window friends

So far, I’ve stayed reasonably happy throughout the pandemic, mostly by cooking, creating art and playing golf. Now we have triple digit heat and rolling blackouts, and I’m thinking, what’s next? Locusts?

I can hang in the heat, but it really has been too hot to exercise outdoors unless you start quite early. Less golf means more time at home. Just me, Dale and the cat. At this point, I think we’re all looking forward to the day when we can take separate vacations.

Riley, our cat, is an indoor kitty. He likes to hang out by the front window and watch all the action. Two of the neighborhood cats visit periodically. The cats don’t show up at the same time, but both of them just sit outside and stare up at Riley. I call them his window friends.

One of the cats is a ginger. A boy, but so was Ginger Baker, so there. This little guy is quite friendly and has actually jumped up on our roof and stared at us through the upstairs window.

I don’t think Ginger likes it at his house, but then who would? Nice people but kind of noisy. Perhaps he would prefer the company of quiet misanthropes?

Maybe it’s the isolation catching up with me, but I like to pretend Riley is Gilligan, and his spot by the window is Gilligan’s Island. I keep telling him Ginger is coming to visit! We both get excited.

The other visitor is an adorable black and white tuxedo cat named Max. I call him the Professor. We’re still waiting for Mary Ann.

So, this is what it has come to. The dark side of the pandemic. However, there’s no escaping the harsh truth. The cat gets more visitors than we do, and I find myself parked by the window, wondering when they’ll be back.

Gentlewoman cannabis farmer

My cannabis plant at 16 days.

cannabis seeds are tricksy

In the continuing adventures of a gentlewoman cannabis farmer, you may remember I started growing weed indoors late last year. I ordered a kit from A Pot for Pot and 10 seeds from I Love Growing Marijuana (ILGM).

My first plant was excellent! I used a two-gallon pot, so the plant didn’t get huge, but it grew nice and bushy, ultimately yielding about 10 grams of high-quality cannabis.  

Then I tried again with terrible results.

Seed #2 – Grew to harvest, but it looked weird and didn’t form buds. The cannabis had zero potency. I consulted with folks at A Pot for Pot, and they suggested it was an unusual phenotype. Then I consulted with a forum on ILGM. One member said it was a bad seed. Another suggested my lighting was substandard.

Seed #3 – Never entered the flowering stage.

Seed #4 – Never entered the flowering stage.

Seed #5 – Failed to germinate.

At this point, I was debating my whole approach to growing cannabis. I’m using autoflowering seeds, which means it should be easy to grow smallish plants inside with normal light. With regular seeds, you need a tent or some other kind of contraption to create a cycle for the flowering stage … 12 hours of light and 12 hours of complete darkness.

Autoflowering cannabis requires less equipment, so it’s less expensive to grow. The trade-off is a smaller yield, and some say the weed isn’t as good. My first batch was excellent, so I’m not sure I buy that argument.

Then I thought about lighting. The guy on the ILGM forum suggested a different sort of light that costs about $300. I didn’t want to spring for the light until I identified the source of the problem. Were my seeds bad, or was I doing something wrong?

I wrote to the folks at ILGM, where I purchased my seeds and attached pictures of my failures. I didn’t expect my money back or anything like that. I was just hoping for insight. They have a “Contact Us” page that is pre-populated with questions. One asked if your problem was with seed germination, and if so, how many failed to germinate? That made me wonder if germination failure is a common problem.

Even though I did have an issue with germination, I picked “Other” because I had the experience of five seeds. I wanted a holistic recommendation before trying #6.

Although I didn’t get the holistic recommendation I was after, they immediately sent me 10 free seeds and said they were confident I’d have better results. I’m not sure what that means. Did they know there was something wrong with the first ones? Or it this just part of the cannabis seed business?

From what I’ve read, ILGM is an honorable company, but seeds are imperfect, and that’s why they are so accommodating.

I’m delighted they stepped up and replaced my seeds! I did not purchase a new light – still using the cone light I installed for the first plant. This time, I did not buy the kit from A Pot for Pot. Instead, I bought all the elements separately – seedling starters, fabric pots, potting soil and fertilizer.

I’m now about 16 days into my first of the new seeds, and the plant looks spectacular. If all goes well, I’ll have enough to make another batch of my cannabis balm, which I use with great success on all my achy body parts.

Coconut Cream Pie?

I have this urge to make coconut cream pie. I’ve never made it before, but it’s calling my name. The recipes I’ve found so far call for graham cracker crust, which I adore, but I think coconut cream pie should have a pastry crust. I’m on the lookout for a recipe. Bueller? Bueller? Anyone?

Woodburning with vibrant colors

My most recent piece of woodburning art is now featured in the Gallery. I purchased spendy oil-based colored pencils, which are vibrant! I actually like the cheapo pencils, too. They are more subtle and look almost like a weathered tattoo. But the color pops with the new pencils. I will most likely use both, sometimes together for different effects.

Details and links to products I’m using are in the tutorial, which can now be viewed on the Downloads page.

Light in heart

I’m feeling rather lighthearted. I’m ever hopeful Trump is going down in November. While I try not to talk about politics too too much, I make no secret of my stance on that miserable excuse of a human being in the White House.

For the record, I respect a multitude of values – from liberal to conservative – but I do not respect Trump or the criminals who enable him.

The Biden-Harris announcement feels good, like maybe this national nightmare is coming to an end. Maybe we can get back to understanding we are all in this together. Maybe we can gather to celebrate decency and civility, ethics, respect for science and diversity, agreeing to disagree.

I’m practicing visualization. I can see myself dancing in the street. Oh, and I might need a “Nasty Woman” t-shirt.

Retirement spreadsheets

Using spreadsheets for good not evil.

I started the year with only one goal and added another one in March. I hate it when that happens. Let’s hope having two goals isn’t the first step down the slippery slope to having three or even more, as I consider myself the queen slacker, the face of resistance to over-engineering retirement.

As an avid golfer, my first goal was to break 80 this year. I’ve only been at it for 20 years, so the time was right. Bingo! I shot 79 a couple of weeks ago, so that’s done. I guess that technically means I’m back to having one goal. The path should be clear for my return to mediocre golf.

My other goal is to survive the pandemic. So far, so good.

I retired from a job where everything was documented in quarterly reports and dashboards. That’s the last thing I want to do in retirement. Although I am handy with a spreadsheet, these days I use technology to help me with recreational activities! Here’s a selection from my files:

  • Reading list
  • Local Golf Courses I Can Walk
  • Cannabis Field Notes
  • Streaming List
  • Road Trips

What else is the queen slacker up to? Dale bought lobsters yesterday, and we had lobster rolls for dinner. I had leftover lobster salad on a toasted English muffin for breakfast. I drank strong coffee and scanned the news.

Did some puzzles and walked for about an hour. It seems like we spent the morning thinking about dinner. But I spent much of my career thinking about dinner, so that’s nothing new.

Dale’s making a dish we call Schnitzel on a Stick. He pounds a bone-in pork chop thin and then breads it and fries it in lard, which is actually better for you than butter. Also high in taste. Please don’t judge too harshly – there will be broccoli.

Speaking of animal fats, today we had a unique challenge that required my undivided attention for, oh, I’d say 30 minutes.

Mission bacon.

One of our favorite pork products – Wright Thick Sliced Hickory Smoked Bacon – has been increasingly difficult to find, but Amazon Fresh has it, so I stepped up to the plate and put together an online order for delivery later today. Who says I’m not busy?

Although I’m not scared of mediocre golf, I practiced putting on a matt out in the garage. A little music to go with. The Last Waltz. The Band.

As I was working on this post, Dale was at his computer reading the news, and he told me Joe Biden announced his running mate is Kamala Harris.

We like Kamala and think she’s a good choice, but Dale was upset because Joe didn’t tell him first. Dale’s like, you give a candidate some money and you expect more. I said, here’s the thing, Dale, I think Joe expected more money.

Still, we are proud to do our part and are ever hopeful a new day is coming.

Phases of retirement

A pallet scrap burned and colored. I like the coppery tones.
A darker piece of pallet scrap burned and colored. A little moodier, perhaps?

Optometrist

I went to the optometrist. Although I’m glad I went, it was the most uncomfortable I’ve felt in months.

My appointment was the first of the day. Masks required. Someone came outside and took my temperature with one of those remote gun-things. He asked me questions about fever, cough, etc. I passed the first test.

I was invited in and directed to wash my hands at a sink down the hallway. I did that. Then all the testing began. I signed up for two extra tests not covered by insurance, because I have weird things in my eyes (drusen) that could morph into macular degeneration at some point.

The doctor was thorough and made a small change to the progressive part of my prescription. She was reviewing test results from the fancy machines and wanted one of the images redone. I had to go back to another room, and at one point, it was me and three employees.

Other than Dale, it was the closest I’ve been to anyone since this whole business started, and I found myself trying to crawl into the wall. I didn’t say anything, mostly because it was over quick.

Then I went out into the optical area, where I was still the only patient allowed inside. I wanted my sunglasses replaced exactly as is – new frames but the same brand and style, same coatings, etc. So, that was easy. The technician asked me what I wanted in new regular frames, and I said something similar to what I have now.

She took me over to a wall and explained everything I tried on would be put into a basket for disinfecting. She pulled out the first pair, and I loved them. They are perfect. It was the fastest I’ve ever picked out frames in my life!

Now it’s a waiting game. Surprise – she said orders are taking longer than normal.

Artistic Endeavors

I’m continuing my relentless pursuit of nothing much in particular. I finished two more woodburning pieces and have started adding photos to my gallery. I still don’t know what I’ll do with these creations, but there they are.

Although I’m a novice at all artistic endeavors, I put it out there for you to see partly because it helps validate my experience … as in, yes, I am really doing this. It’s not perfect, but that’s OK. I also want to show how retirement activities evolve. Sometimes it feels like anything is possible.

I splurged on fancy colored pencils. They just came yesterday, so I haven’t had a chance to try them out yet. The cheapo ones are fine for now.  

climbing mountains

On the entertainment front, I watched a movie on Amazon Prime called, “Edie.” It’s about an 83-year-old woman in England who feels she wasted her life and now wants to climb a mountain in Scotland. It made me wonder about the definition of a wasted life.

Unlike Edie, I’ve gone after almost everything I wanted in life. However, in the grand scheme of things, I haven’t accomplished much. I consider making enough money to retire my greatest achievement. And here I am approaching 65, piddling around and relishing in simple pleasures.

I guess you could say the slacker retirement model works for me … at least for now. I am the happiest I’ve been. I don’t miss my career. I enjoy how I spend my time on the planet. Of course, the go-go model is another option, but I see that as just another race, only the rats are different.

But never say never. I suspect we experience different phases throughout retirement. Three years in, I might still be in my nesting phase, but something might switch over, and I’ll wake up wanting to climb that mountain. If we’re lucky, we get to make choices along the way.

I asked Dale what he thought, and his response was so profound I immediately ran to get a piece of paper and pen to write it down, but by the time I returned, we could barely reconstruct what he said. It was something like this:

If you can do what makes you happy and help people along the way, then that is a life well-lived.

Pretty good, yes?