Casual clothes for retirement

When I was working full-time, I put effort into assembling a stylish wardrobe that was appropriate for my workplace but also felt true to who I am. No stilettos for me, thank you. Perhaps my greatest professional accomplishment was putting together an outfit that included a pencil skirt and rubber-soled shoes. Oh yes, I did it. My ugly shoe game is strong.

But that time is gone. I might need a professional-looking outfit or something suitable for a city engagement once in a great while, but mostly I need clothes I can goof off in! Now that I’m retired, my days are mostly about being at home, reading, writing, cooking, grocery shopping, playing golf and walking or hiking. An occasional dinner out. I’ve put zero effort into style. My look is often what we used to call, “Joe Shit the Rag Man.”

The fashion blogs are filled with cool, stylish outfits, but I don’t need those kinds of outfits. I need play clothes! And that is why I went to REI this week. Plus, I had a gift card from my retirement party, so it was like free stuff. I bought two pairs of shorts and a top, and that pretty much burned up the card. I see future shopping trips to T.J. Maxx and other discount stores. Still, my new free shorts by prAna are modern with great fabric and great fit with a zippered pocket! I also love the longer length. I’m smitten.

I thought I was over wanting to look fashionable, but I’ve come to the conclusion I don’t want my retirement diary to be, “My Life as a Slob.” Retirement is an opportunity to reinvent ourselves. It’s obvious I will need proper clothes for the journey. I have ugly shoes, so that’s a head start.

 

 

Five strengths retirement will test

Today I share a warning from the ghost of retirement future. I built a solid portfolio of skills and talents in my 38-year career, and when I retired from full-time work, the things I was good at were the first to go. Everyone talks about outliving your money, but maybe the real risk of retirement is having our hard-won strengths put to the test.

  1. Time Management – The morning flies by fast when you sleep late. Breakfast, news, email … and the next thing you know, it’s time for lunch! Last week I had a 10 a.m. appointment just a few minutes from my house, and I wasn’t sure I had enough bandwidth to execute in a timely fashion. And yet another worry bead – at this pace, I may not have enough jammies to get me through the next few years.
  2. Leadership – I have no authority and a team of one who does not believe he reports to me. I have a clear vision, which I’ve shared with him during happy hour (think of it as an all-hands). But I get the sense he is not engaged. His discretional effort is focused on BattleBots.
  3. Project Management – We work on a new project every day, and it is called dinner. The results are spectacular, world-class, but there is occasionally a problem with cost, schedule or expectations … mostly expectations. Somehow during the kickoff meeting, he forgets to tell me he’s putting Trinidad Scorpion Peppers in the beans, and I don’t know, he just doesn’t seem to understand the business case for chia seeds.
  4. Communication – As a leader, I used to command attention, but now I wonder if I speak and no one hears me, do I still make a sound? I practice my outside voice on the pool guy. “Wow, a lot of leaves today, huh?”
  5. Conflict Resolution – When colleagues with different objectives and needs clash in the workplace, a good leader uses respectful dialogue to separate the people from the problem and help the team stay focused on shared business goals. This doesn’t always work at home, where there is no best practice to resolve snits, irks, miffs, fumes, gripes, pouts, stews, nags and peeves.

Of course, the agile retiree with a learning orientation will adapt. I now realize my strengths are also development areas. I’m committed to continuous improvement. In the near-term, I will get dressed and do something about the jammie shortage.

Eat your beans

I’m here to sing the praises of eating more beans and legumes. I can’t think of a single food that has had more impact on my life – and not always in a good way.

As a child, I hated beans. I remember going to my friend Becky’s house for a sleepover, and for dinner, her mother made some sort of dish with macaroni and kidney beans. I vividly recall puking it up in Becky’s bedroom a couple of hours later. I was not invited back.

My taste buds evolved as I got older, but I still didn’t eat beans or other legumes because I had what we used to call a sensitive stomach. I had trouble digesting beans and vegetables such as cauliflower, broccoli and cabbage, which I nicknamed, “Death Vegetable.” I would have horrible gas pain and bloating, and to me, it wasn’t worth it.

In the category of strange but true, my digestive issues resolved after my cancer surgery in 1999. The operation included removing my omentum, which is a curtain of fatty tissue that hangs down from the stomach and liver and wraps around the intestines. The omentum is thought to aid in digestion, but maybe because mine was diseased it had the opposite effect? Or maybe whilst tooling around in my gut, the surgeon unkinked something that now allowed me to enjoy beans and cruciferous vegetables?

I don’t know what happened, but after the surgery at age 43, I began to slowly introduce these foods into my diet. And then later in my 50s, I read about people in the Blue Zones of the world who live long, healthy lives. Most of them eat a lot of beans. Additionally, eating a daily serving of cooked beans is linked with lower levels of “bad” low-density lipoprotein (LDL) cholesterol. I upped my game.

My husband always loved beans and legumes, so it made dinner easier. We discovered a mutual tolerance for unpleasant odors, since it did take time for my body to adjust as I increased fiber in my diet. No horrible bloating gas like I had when I was young – just painless flatulence, which Dale says is the sign of a healthy metabolism. But this comes from a guy who would sign his farts if he could.

We all know something will get us eventually, but since improving my diet by reducing sugar, eating more fruits and vegetables, eating oatmeal for breakfast several days a week and consuming beans or legumes daily, all the numbers in my lipid profile markedly improved, and my bad cholesterol dropped by 17 percent. After a lifetime fooling around with irritable bowel syndrome, I have no issues with either constipation or diarrhea.

Black beans, pinto beans, kidney beans, chickpeas, black-eyed peas and all kinds of lentils are now pantry staples. Hearty bean soups make an especially good lunch – I cook big batches to freeze in individual servings. If you’re working, you can defrost at home and put it in a wide-mouth mason jar to reheat in the microwave at the office. I kept a little squirt bottle of good olive oil in my credenza as a topper!

Cookbooks and websites are loaded with recipes that use legumes, but here are three new favorites:

In my opinion, all beans and legumes taste better if you make them from scratch. Once you get used to cooking dry beans, you will never want to use canned again. The Instant Pot®, which is an electric pressure cooker, makes it fast and easy – we would starve without ours.

I pretty much love all food, but if I had to, I would give up meat before I’d give up beans. Just don’t make me think about giving up cheese.

Experiments with cannabis gummies

I continue to use homemade CBD-dominant cannabis tincture to ease anxiety and reduce inflammation associated with post-mastectomy pain. All is well, but I wanted to share a couple of updates from the field!

First, always be cautious with your dosage. Cannabis is medicine not candy, and our goal here is to feel better without feeling stoned. Second, back away from the gummi bears.

My preferred delivery system is a little juice shooter in the morning with a bit of cannabis tincture. I’ve been adding a dropperful to my shooter. When I finally finished my first bottle of homemade cannabis tincture, I opened a new bottle and squeezed out a dropperful.

Whoa! There’s a reason I’m not a professional cannabis chef. My quality control apparently sucks. A dropperful of the new bottle from the same batch of tincture gave me what is lovingly called, “Couch Lock.” Except I was at my desk, so it was more “Chair Lock.”

Under the effects of too much cannabis, I sat there for a couple of hours mindlessly staring at my computer. So, yes, you might think of it as just another day in the office. But I’m retired, and I have more important things to do.

Such as making cannabis gummi bears! My tincture was a success, so I got to thinking how much fun it would be to try some other sort of cannabis recipe. I was immediately attracted to the idea of making cannabis gummies. I found a recipe using tincture, I ordered the molds, bought gelatin and sour cherry juice, because I thought that sounded like a good flavor.

Gummi bears were easy to make, but at the end of the day, you are stuck with boatloads of cannabis gummi bears. Oh, and I ran out of space in the bear molds, so I used silicone cupcake molds instead. That resulted it big globs of gelatin with cannabis in them. They look sort of like peanut butter cups.

They taste OK, but again, dosage is a problem. Those bears are so tiny! And the faux peanut butter cups are huge! And for some of us, who shall remain nameless, it’s difficult to remember they aren’t candy. For me, it’s safer to rely on the precision of a medical dropper. It even looks like medicine.

In hindsight, I would say, what’s the point? I don’t eat regular gummi bears, so the medicated variety don’t fit into my routine. And it occurred to me later I don’t actually like gummi bears. The only way I would want a product like this is if I were very sick and this was the only way I could take my medication.

Even then, I would advise all to proceed with caution. Overdoing it can lead to wasted hours in front of the computer, and that sounds too much like work.

A new opportunity to annoy your partner

Consider me the canary in the coal mine, dutifully sharing dispatches from the dark recesses of retirement so you can learn from my best practices and perhaps a mistake or two.

As for mistakes, it appears I’ve been annoying my husband.

A friend suggested it might happen with all this new-found togetherness. I said don’t be silly, we won’t be spending that much time together, because I will be playing golf. However, moving to a new home, performing my duties as House Elf, writing and a lack of cooperation on the weather’s part means I have not played as much golf as I had planned.

Instead, we’ve been holed up in the house passing notes to each other through the cat. The fundamental problem is he needs to be more like me, and I need to be more like him.

I’m a driver – sometimes known as a Type A. I like to keep things organized, and I like to get things done. Dale, on the other hand, is a wee bit sloppy and pleasantly laid back. I have, in a moment of weakness, called him lazy. He said lazy is such a harsh word. He likes to think of himself as differently motivated.

Normally we balance each other out, but it seems I’ve been using my bonus retirement hours to try and make him more like me. Well, why not? With my astute powers of observation, I’ve identified key shortcomings, and who doesn’t love a good list?

It was a healthy discussion.

  • He admitted to being lazy. I admitted to being possessed controlling.
  • I agreed not to criticize his driving. He agreed to park inside the lines.
  • He said he’d try and get more done. I said I was aroused by a guy with a few chores under his belt.
  • I conceded Vietnamese and Thai fish sauce are both tasty, but whoever is cooking gets to pick.
  • He is not required to eat oatmeal if he doesn’t care whether he lives or dies.

We renewed our vow that we can’t afford to NOT love each other. In a deeply romantic moment, I believe I said, “Dance with the one who brung ya.”

Love morphs over 40 years, but it does not fly out the door in a matter of months. Retirement changes the dynamics, and we’ve learned it’s important to keep the lines of communication open now more than ever. We each owned up to our part in this drama, and I believe our ability to duke it out rationally is one reason we’ve lasted this long. That, and being soul mates.

If I had to do it over, I might suggest one retire in the spring, so one could have a long, warm period of adjustment. As for your trusty reporter, the weather is improving, and I have every confidence it will improve fast enough to get me out of the house before you find me strapped to a lie detector screaming, “Yes! It’s true! Almond milk is not real milk!”

Work? Not missing it.

You know the scene from Office Space, where Peter pretty much stops going to the office? The consultant – one of the Bobs – calls him in and says, “Looks like you’ve been missing quite a bit of work lately.”

Peter replies, “Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve been MISSING it, Bob.”

Exactly. I’ve been retired five full months, and I love it. I read about baby boomers who are all, oh, work, work, I can’t quit you. I was one of them earlier in my career, but now it’s hard to imagine what the attraction was other than money.

Of course, I did work I’m proud of, and I met smart, wonderful friends I still care about, but I also encountered seriously damaged people who poisoned the workplace and made everyone miserable. Regrettably, the crazies seem to do just fine.

It’s hard to be happy in a workplace where sociopaths are protected and rewarded. The damage done stays with you a long time. I’m not picking on any particular company – I had lots of jobs in my career – and I saw it over and over again.

So, work? I wouldn’t say missing it. At the same time, I’m grateful. My career funded a good life, and I gained more than I lost. I just wanted to do something else with the rest of my time on the planet.

I had the good sense and good fortune to plan and save enough money to fund my freedom. If I’d been smarter, I could have done it even sooner, but the outcome is sweet nonetheless. And I’m still working! Perhaps it’s more accurate to say I don’t miss a traditional job.

These days, I’m doing a bit of freelancing for a firm in my field. Plus, I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I chose steady income instead. Now I’m writing just to write, without pressure to make a living at it. Learning a lot, still doing work I’m proud of and still connected to wonderful friends I care about.

And I don’t have to get up early. Never underestimate the power of a woman without an alarm clock.

Adventures with cannabis concentrate for insomnia

I was always a sleeper – used to say when the going gets tough, the tough go to sleep. Stress? Sadness? Pain? Checking out now, thank you. See you in the morning. But like everything else, all that changed with menopause, age, etc. Some nights my brain lights up with activity just as my head hits the pillow.

By design, I never tried prescription sleep medications. Too fraught with peril for me, typically a belt and suspenders kind of gal. That’s why I tried cannabis tea, which is legal where I live. As a novice user of medical cannabis, I wanted something easy and predictable. Kikoko Tranquili-Tea is exactly that. But it’s close to $5 a pop, so I began to research alternatives.

There are many indica-dominant strains to treat insomnia, but one that stood out for me was Granddaddy Purple. Up until this time, I had only used cannabis as tea or dried herb in my PAX vaporizer, and I didn’t see Granddaddy anywhere in the lineup on the dispensary website where I shop. Then one day I saw it.

Granddaddy Purple was listed under “concentrates.” The specific product was a cartridge. I was excited to see it, so I just ordered and didn’t think about the delivery system, other than it sure was cool to have it delivered to my house.

When it arrived, I opened the package and realized I had no idea what to do with it. I showed it to my husband, and he said I think you need a vape pen. I’m like, snap, I don’t want to be the cannabis paraphernalia queen, but there I was with Granddaddy Purple in a cartridge and no way to tap it.

If you are an inexperienced cannabis user, you might ask, um, tap what? What’s in the cartridge? In this case, it was cannabis oil, a concentrate made with a botanical extractor that uses pressure and carbon dioxide to separate the plant material. It produces an amber oil that is vaporized in a portable vape pen.

Which I did not have.

Here it is, the slippery slope, I thought, as I drove to the smoke shop. The hopelessly young clerk asked if he could help me. I had taken a picture of the cartridge with my phone and decided to lay my cards on the table.

I’m kind of new at this. I bought a cartridge, and I think I need a vape pen to use it. Are they universal – will my cartridge work in any vape pen, or do I need something special for this cartridge?

He was super nice. He looked at the picture probably just out of curiosity, wondering what an old lady smokes. But then said, yes, they’re universal. He showed me a selection of vape pens, and I picked a gpen slim for about $25.

Took it home and then had a hell of a time figuring out how to put it on the pen. Incredibly easy, but you know, beginner’s mind. The pen comes with a mouthpiece to use when you put your own oil in there, so think of the cartridge as a replacement mouthpiece. You screw it on, you push a button and you inhale.

On the first night I was still, uh, testing the tool and took several hearty puffs. Whomp. I slept, oh baby, I slept and had a hard time getting out of bed the next morning. No hangover or anything, which is the gift of cannabis. Just a bit groggy.

The next night I tried two very gentle puffs and got a wonderful night’s sleep. I woke up feeling refreshed, and there are none of those odd nocturnal behaviors associated with prescription meds. In terms of cost, a .05 ML cartridge is $40. I’m on night 11, and there seems to be plenty left. Already, it’s cheaper than tea.

The verdict? It’s a personal preference. I like both, but then here I am, a professional cannabis advocate. The tea is a delicious sensory experience, but concentrate is more to the point. I felt like an elegant lady drinking the tea – mother’s little helper – and I feel like more of a druggie vaping the concentrate. But the vape is easy, just keep it by the side of the bed, take two gentle puffs and pretty soon I’m falling asleep. And it’s cheaper, so for me, value wins.

What’s more important, though, is the value of getting a good night’s sleep, especially if you are in pain. Your body needs rest. I feel great! You can follow all the advice and turn off your cell phones, fluff your pillow, darken the room or whatever, but none of that did the job for me. Cannabis is a game changer.

Breaking up with sugar

Eating well in retirement is a joy because I have time to browse recipes, shop for quality food and cook meals from scratch. Friends know I have a passion for real food that isn’t packaged or processed, but many are not aware of my dirty little secret.

Here’s to blowing up dirty little secrets.

It starts with my childhood, which refuses to go away. I continue to process my dysfunctional roots and was reading about family dynamics. I took comfort in learning Chinese parents love their children fiercely, but they don’t say, “I love you.” They show love through generosity, loyalty and food. We didn’t talk about love in my family either, unless it was something like, “I love hot fudge sundaes” or “I love Rum and Coke.”

No problem, because I loved sugar. As one of the original latchkey kids, my favorite after-school snack was eating powdered sugar out of the box with an iced-tea spoon. Sometimes a scoop of plain white granulated sugar from the bin poured straight down my scratchy little throat.

My mother used to send us off to the movies on Saturdays. She gave my sister and me a quarter each, and we could buy whatever candy we wanted at the corner store to take with us into the theater. Back then, everything was a nickel, so that was five treats. FIVE!

I liked my sugar unadulterated by chocolate. My candy of choice was compressed dextrose, sometimes known as chalk candy. Necco® Wafers, Smarties®, Conversation Hearts, Bottlecaps®, SweeTARTS®, candy necklaces …

Even as an adult, I thought sugar was OK as long was you watched the fat. I became a fan of fat-free candy such as jelly beans, candy corn, those strange orange circus peanuts – plus all the compressed dextrose yummies from my youth.

Up until a few years ago, I had a special candy drawer in the kitchen. I figured if I kept my weight under control, I could eat whatever I wanted. I used to say, “Sugar is your friend.”

Then age and genetics caught up with me. My blood sugar inched up toward the pre-diabetes zone, and the doctor advised me to change my diet. Candy, that ruthless bastard, was not my friend. I’m getting older, trying to live a long and healthy life, so I gave it up. I just did. I told myself, “I don’t eat candy anymore.”

That’s not to say I don’t occasionally eat dessert or foods with sugar – and I enjoy wine and beer, so I’m by no means a purist. But I consumed a lot of sugar, and eliminating packaged candy seemed like a clean break. I didn’t have a weight problem to begin with, but over the course of three years, 10 pounds disappeared, and so far my blood sugar is under control.

Easter is my favorite candy season. So easily tempted by the siren call of marshmallow peeps. Last year I fell off the wagon (just a box or two). I saw the Easter candy displays out earlier this week, and I had to walk away. I texted my lifeline.

how about a challenge? neither one of us eat peeps this year?

lol too late.

We agreed to the challenge anyway. In the spirit of continuous improvement. Game on, but I think we’re both a little sad. Breaking up with sugar is like breaking up with love.

Aging badass with beginner’s mind

Here we are older and maybe retired or close to it, so I guess we must be super-accomplished. Go us. But do you ever lay there in bed at night and think you’re anything but? Like why haven’t you figured it all out by now?

Maybe that’s a good thing.

It took a lifetime to learn what we’ve learned, and I wanted to hang onto that expertise like a badge of honor to give me comfort and stature at a time when I was leaving all that behind. Plus, I’m still the driven person I’ve always been – now I’m driven to succeed at something else. Even if it’s just dinner.

As I close in on the fifth month of my retirement reinvention, I realize the journey ahead will be more fulfilling if I go back to thinking of myself as a beginner.

In Zen Buddhism, it’s called “beginner’s mind.” Zen Habits writer Leo Babauta says this:

“What is beginner’s mind? It’s dropping our expectations and preconceived ideas about something, and seeing things with an open mind, fresh eyes, just like a beginner. If you’ve ever learned something new, you can remember what that’s like: you’re probably confused, because you don’t know how to do whatever you’re learning, but you’re also looking at everything as if it’s brand new, perhaps with curiosity and wonder. That’s beginner’s mind.”

Babauta says when you practice beginner’s mind, your experiences aren’t clouded by preconceptions and fantasies about the way you thought it should be. You can’t be disappointed or frustrated by the experience, because there’s no fantasy or preconception to compare it to.

While it seems anyone at any age can benefit from beginner’s mind – I think it’s a rather nice detour for those of us at the crossroads of work and retirement. Of course, we want to leverage our expertise as we pursue our post-career goals, but it’s also a great time to practice whatever we are passionate about for the sake of doing it not for any expected outcome.

It feels pretty good to step back and say, “Well, I’m just getting started.”

10 things you can do now to save money for retirement

Thinking about retiring some day? I got serious about retirement five years prior to pulling the plug. Started running financial scenarios, maxing out my 401K, changing my hair.

Changing my hair? What does that have to do with retirement? While no single action will get you out the door, it’s about simplifying and saving, and small things add up. No matter where you are in your career, here are 10 things you can do now to accelerate your financial freedom – or at least stretch your paycheck for better living today!

  1. Keep your hair simple. For me, it was going gray and choosing a style that only needs a trim every couple of months.
  2. Avoid dry clean only. If you must dry clean, extend the life of your clothes by using a steamer to eliminate wrinkles. My portable Shark works great. Women can copy men and wear a cotton shirt under jackets to absorb perspiration – you’ll go longer between dry cleaner visits. I like these t-shirts under jackets – no bulk, and the sleeves don’t bunch.
  3. Max out your 401K if you have one. With every raise, take a percentage and apply that to your 401K until it’s maxed out at $18,500 annually. If you are over 50, you’re entitled to catch-up contributions, which max out at $6,000.
  4. Quit buying extra handbags, statement jewelry and other accessories. Find a few signature pieces that make you feel great and leave the rest at the stores. Shopping is not a hobby.
  5. Bring your lunch. You’ll feel better, too.
  6. Back away from Starbucks – it’s easy to spend $10 a day on this habit.
  7. Use public transit. I rode the bus to avoid a long commute, but it ended up saving me a ton of money and wear and tear on my car – my company even paid for the bus pass.
  8. Skip color on your nails. Enjoy a professional mani-pedi, but get your nails buffed shiny, and you can go longer between visits. Some salons charge an extra $5 for the buff, but you’ll save money in the long run.
  9. Stop drinking sodas. Drink water instead, and use a water bottle with a filter so you can refill it just about anywhere. I like this one.
  10. Pass on injectables and expensive anti-aging face creams. If you are lucky, you are going to get old anyway.

I’ve always been reasonably frugal, but I’ve also wasted money. I came from a low-income family, joined the Army and went to college on the G.I. Bill. Once I got a good job and started making money, it was all too easy to reward myself for hard work because, “I can afford it, and I deserve it.” You think more stuff will make you happy, but it doesn’t. Reward yourself by saving!

One could argue planning for retirement is a matter of privilege, and I agree, but I also believe people from all walks of life value freedom on whatever terms they can grab it. I am grateful for my career and happy I saved enough money to end it so I can live differently and reinvent myself as I age.