My Granddaughter, Ali, has learned to do a somersault. She is only 2 years and 5 months old. I think this shows she is incredibly advanced and talented. She also does stunt "falls", which she rates as OKAY, BAD or EXTREME. I believe the extreme rating means she things the fall is awesome. I'm sure she'll be rating her somersaults soon.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Pulling Myself Together
Continuing with the thoughts of the last post--I think retirement will morph, evolve, change into other purposes in other times. This morning, reading Romancing the Ordinary by Sarah Ban Breathnach, I found this passage about "psychically puttering" , a way of regrouping:
"Writer Judith Thurman offers this: staring at a fire, watching the rain, listening to music, reading catalogs, stenciling a picture frame, fantasizing about an old flame, doing a double-acrostic while drinking an entire pot of expresso, trying to explain oneself telephathically to one's mother, writing a seductively critical letter to a famous novelist that will never get mailed, sorting one's panty hose by color, studying palmistry or ancient Greek, making an evening purse from the scraps of some old silk ties..." Breathnach continues: In other words, doing nothing important to the rest of the world, but something vital for your sanity".
That appears to be the stage of "retirement" I am in at present. Finding pleasure in doing nothing important to the rest of the world. I think I'll go sort my panty hose now.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
The Rest of My Life
I am retired. Ta-Da! Before I retired people kepting asking me, "What are you going to DO?!" I could see they couldn't imagine what a person does, all day long, at home. Do they watch TV and eat bonbons? Do they read and eat potato chips? Do they clean house and weed the garden? Do they create something? Do they do art? Do they go back to school? Do they get a part time job? It seemed like a vast unknown to nearly everyone I talked to. I really didn't have an answer for people who asked me what I would DO. I tried, "Have fun". I tried, "Do all those things I've been wanting to do but don't have time for now". I tried being a little more specific and saying, "I'm going to do lots more photography" or "I'm going to take care of my huge garden". That didn't seem to satisfy either. I am thinking that this is more a question they are asking themselves--really not asking me at all. No answer was satisfactory because it was their answer they were looking for.
Well, now that I'm here--in the third week of retirement--my answer is quite clear to me. What I am doing is nearly all of the above, except for the going back to school, unless we are talking about the "school of learning a new camera", and getting a part time job, though this garden is practically a full time job! Yesterday morning I spent a couple of hours getting caught up on the episodes of Lost that I'd recorded and then when I found I'd missed recording the last 2 hour episode, I caught up by going to ABC.com and reading the synopsis (which was remarkably detailed). This seems indulgent to me and I am happy about that. This is something I would NEVER have allowed myself to do during my working life. Not only would I have had to search for a day where devoting a couple of hours in the morning to Lost was possible, I would have been upset with myself for "wasting" time--time that "should" have been spent cleaning floors or washing clothes or ironing work outfits. So, part of retirement is indulgence, perhaps more properly termed "pleasure".
Today I did something I used to envy. Way back, 20 years ago, when I walked from where I parked my car to the building I worked at in Kingston each morning, I used to see a woman walking around her beautiful garden, inside her white picket fence, carrying a cup of coffee, surveying her domain. I imagined she was deciding what needed to be done that day, in the garden or elsewhere in her life. It seemed like such a peaceful and satisfying way to start a day. I have never forgotten it and this morning I performed that same ritual. I surveyed my shabby garden, dreaming of those prunings and weedings and movings that might result in a garden as lovely as the Kingston woman's. I found a ripe tomato, pulled a few weeds, clipped a few straggling old vines and found several spiders to photograph. What a lovely way to start a day. What a pleasure.
I don't have big plans for the day. The plans are small. Do the Tuesday crossword puzzle while I eat lunch. Do a little more weeding it if doesn't rain. Check email, send email to a friend or two. Read some more of my Lisa See book-- about 17th century Chinese women, Snow Flower and Lily. Maybe start catching up with Grey's Anatomy. I'll take my pleasure with the day. This is what I'm DOing in retirement.
Well, now that I'm here--in the third week of retirement--my answer is quite clear to me. What I am doing is nearly all of the above, except for the going back to school, unless we are talking about the "school of learning a new camera", and getting a part time job, though this garden is practically a full time job! Yesterday morning I spent a couple of hours getting caught up on the episodes of Lost that I'd recorded and then when I found I'd missed recording the last 2 hour episode, I caught up by going to ABC.com and reading the synopsis (which was remarkably detailed). This seems indulgent to me and I am happy about that. This is something I would NEVER have allowed myself to do during my working life. Not only would I have had to search for a day where devoting a couple of hours in the morning to Lost was possible, I would have been upset with myself for "wasting" time--time that "should" have been spent cleaning floors or washing clothes or ironing work outfits. So, part of retirement is indulgence, perhaps more properly termed "pleasure".
Today I did something I used to envy. Way back, 20 years ago, when I walked from where I parked my car to the building I worked at in Kingston each morning, I used to see a woman walking around her beautiful garden, inside her white picket fence, carrying a cup of coffee, surveying her domain. I imagined she was deciding what needed to be done that day, in the garden or elsewhere in her life. It seemed like such a peaceful and satisfying way to start a day. I have never forgotten it and this morning I performed that same ritual. I surveyed my shabby garden, dreaming of those prunings and weedings and movings that might result in a garden as lovely as the Kingston woman's. I found a ripe tomato, pulled a few weeds, clipped a few straggling old vines and found several spiders to photograph. What a lovely way to start a day. What a pleasure.
I don't have big plans for the day. The plans are small. Do the Tuesday crossword puzzle while I eat lunch. Do a little more weeding it if doesn't rain. Check email, send email to a friend or two. Read some more of my Lisa See book-- about 17th century Chinese women, Snow Flower and Lily. Maybe start catching up with Grey's Anatomy. I'll take my pleasure with the day. This is what I'm DOing in retirement.
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