Thursday Ramble: My Golden Years?

A comment from a neighbor and post by Doc Spo, have me thinking about the best years of my life.  I am nearing two years since I retired. And I have been thinking about what that means. 

In my mind it is hard to fathom that I am old enough to be retired. I remember my paternal grandfather retiring, he seemed so old (and would die in less than 5 years.) In reality he was about the age I am now. My parents retired early, in their late 50's, then went back to work for a few years and retired a second time in their 60's. They didn't really seem old to me, until their health started to seriously fail in their 80's. But here I am past my middle 60's and no longer working for a living. 

At the pool recently a friend was commenting on his retirement. He worked for a major auto manufacturer for 30+ years, and retired. Was bored and went back to work a few months later. Then they told him he had to work weekends, and he said, "No I don't - I quit", and that was the end of work for him. 

He said that for most Americans our identity is so closely tied to our work, that retirement is a struggle of self identity. How to self identify in retirement is an adjustment that all of us must make.  Almost two years in, and I still struggle with this. I am retired, but then I tend to add what I am retired from, tagging my current identity to my past identity.  I knew this would be a challenge for me, and I will keep working on it. 

We are taught to not talk about money. We are warned as older adults to not tell anyone about money, scammers are always looking for a pot of gold, and family will suck you dry just as fast. 

I have read that the greatest risk of poverty among middle class retirees is an unwillingness to spend the retirement savings that we have spent a lifetime saving. From childhood we are told, taught, to save for the future, no one really talks about what you do with it in the future.  Stock brokers are eager to offer advice that generates commissions for them, and continues to build the size of the portfolio, after all the more you have - the more they can potentially make. 

We have reached the point in life when we are no longer saving for retirement, and yet we find ourselves reluctant to spend against what we have saved. I watched my parents do the same, Dad's investment account was more than twice as much when he died as it was when he retired 30 years earlier. Yes they drew income from it. They lived well, but they should have lived even more comfortably. 

I am struggling with this. Worried that spending $234 on a replacement lens a couple of weeks ago was not absolutely necessary. And our obsession with not talking about money makes this harder. This is still a work in progress. 

What am I most enjoying? Being in charge of my time. I can take a walk, or head to the pool whenever I wish. I can book travel that takes us away from home for a month at a time. Things I couldn't do when I was working. It has taken a couple of years, but I have replaced the social network of work colleagues, with friends and neighbors. I have time to explore my creative interests. I have time to stroll through museums - one of the great joys of living in the DC area is access to world class museums. I can check out a bag of books from my local library, and read all I want (74 books so far this year.) I have time to play in the kitchen, allowing yeast to rise, pickles to ferment, roasts and stews to slow cook for hours. I enjoy it. Cooking is not something I need to do efficiently at the end of a long day of devotion to duty. 

At best, I have maybe 20 more years to do this, if I hit the national average life my life expectancy is closer to 10 years. I will focus not on the years in my life, but the life in my years.  

My World of Wonders - the Wednesday Ws November 19 2025

Where have I been this week? Into DC for a long walk, Mt. Vernon, the Troll Park (it has reopened) down along King Street, the Farmers Market, the Pool, into DC for lunch with Erica, the library for a restock, the Mt Vernon Recreation Center for a tour, the Community Center for an Arts committee meeting, Oxon Hill Farm across the River in Maryland - before becoming a park it was the farm for St. Elizabeths Hospital - the largest mental hospital in the area. The treadmill in the gym, the MGM Casino at National Harbor. 

Who have I talked with this week? Sweetie Bear, Amy, Linda, Warren, Marcell, Erica, Tom, Yadi, and Deirdre. 

Who have I traded messages with this week?  Spo, Sassy, my Sister, Louraine (who is in Paris for the month), Erica, and Omar. 

When is the next adventure? We booked travel for a board meeting in San Antonio in early February. Sweet Bear is going with me.  

What have I been up to in the kitchen?  Beef veggie noodle soup, pork roast, a baked pasta with Italian sausage and lots of cheese, and round steak with roast potatoes, broccoli.   

What am I reading? Page after Page - a book about writing. 

What is on the easel? An abstract nighttime city landscape. 

What am I grateful for this week? That I am not traveling over next week's Thanksgiving holiday.  It is so much more relaxing to just stay home. 

What am I planning for Thanksgiving?  Turkey, stuffing, and a veggie. The fruit cakes are ready, I re-boozed them last week.  

What made me sad this week? News of the passing of Harper hound at Doc Spo's.  She had a good long life and was very loved even by those who never met her. 

Travel Tuesday: A Sunday Afternoon Walk in Old Town Alexandria

The Raven Knows 

My unkind thought was that it was a couple of weeks to late for Halloween 

 

Monday Mood: Still Learning

 Dora over at Having Coffee With Peppy, wrote about reading and writing, and learning the fundamentals of the three Rs (reading, writing, and arithmetic - apparently spelling was not in the basic skills list.) And that got me to thinking about how learning those basic skills, 60+ years ago, has shaped my life. 

I had difficulty learning to read, my brain is one of those that recognizes a word if the first and last letters are in the right place and more or less the correct letters are in between in any random order. Once my I made the leap to reading without being worried about spelling (yes my brain works that way) reading was easy. 

The first winter my family spent in Florida, the Spring Hill community center offered a class in speed reading. My father wanted to take it, and talked me into going along. He struggled with it, I took to it like a duckling to water.  It was short adult education class (I was just a teenager) that changed my life. I still read 30 to 60 pages an hour. 

Spell check was life changing for me. First it highlighted my spelling mistakes. Second by working through the corrections, my spelling has vastly improved over the past 30 years.  Third I write faster than I did when I was checking the spelling in every sentence against a copy of 30,000 words. 

Dr. Dee McGraw (she was amazing) at Rollins taught a seminar in advanced writing. The format of the class was to read a set of source materials, write an essay on based on those materials. Then reread the source materials, and add some new source materials, and rewrite the essay, we did this four of five times over the course of the semester.  That class taught me to research and write. Not by burying myself in endless research before putting pen to paper, but by starting, reading, and editing as an ongoing process.  

Serving on the Journal of Family Law in law school taught me the value of good editors. Good editors make writing clearer, without changing the meaning.  There is only one editor change that to this day I regret not fighting against. 

I still read lots and lots, I still write, I still explore the world, I still practice. There is an old saying that as long as you are green you are growing, as soon as you are ripe you start to rot.  I am still green, still growing, still leaning. 

The Sunday Five: Creative Writing Prompts 2.0

1: Who blocked the doors?

2: Why did they block the doors? 

3: Is this for your safety or the safety of those inside? 

4: What will happen to the building? 

5: When will the doors reopen? 

My answers: 

1: Who blocked the doors? The office manager at Dewey, Cheatem and Howe blocked the doors, 

2: Why did they block the doors? the party was getting out of hand, and word had gotten out on the streets that they were celebrating a major victory that would impose a 50% wealth tax on the 1%, and the place was being mobbed, 

3: Is this for your safety or the safety of those inside? she had to block the doors, the place was dangerously overcrowded, and more people wanted to join the party, endangering those in the space and those who wanted to crowd in, 

4: What will happen to the building? in a day or two the plasters, painters and flooring people will come in and redo the interior, new furniture will be ordered, there is already talk of turning the place into a grotto, a pilgrimage site for the average person, 

5: When will the doors reopen? work will recommence in a few days, when the party dies down, and everyone recognises that there is still work to be done. Much work, many more changes that must be made. 

Please share your answer or answers in the comments, it can be five answers, or a single narrative, be creative, and have fun. 

Oh, the real answer is this office building is being converted to apartments, with million dollar views of the Potomac River. 

The Saturday Morning Post - 50 States and 52 Weeks - Virginia

Virginia is near and dear to my heart, I have lived in the state of Virginia since late 2008. I am not from here, but I have chosen to live here. 

Virginia was critical in the American Revolution, several of the founding fathers of the country lived in Virginia. George Washington, the first President lived about 8 miles south of where I do, he had dinner the Fairfax family a week before he died, in the Fairfax family home, located just in front of the building I live in. 

Virginia stretches from the Atlantic coast to the appalachian mountains in the west.  It boarders Washington DC, and Maryland on the north, at one point it is less than 2 miles from Pennsylvania. To the south is North Carolina. The western border is West Virginia and Kentucky, parts of the original British colony of Virginia.

Virginia has a deep, and at times troubled history. In the todays world, government and defense are major employers. 

There are still parts of the south east and west of the state that I have not explored. Something for us to do. 

I like it here, I chose to live here.  
 

Funky Friday: Running in the Past

It would be hard to tell by looking at me today, but I was a crazed runner from mid 1987, until late 1997. A decade of running, and also cycling, and a bit of swimming, and an hour of weight lifting five mornings a week.  Looking back at it, it was healthy in a very unhealthy way.  

My first race was in 1988, a sprint series triathlon, 1/4 mile swim, 12 mile bike ride, 3.1 mile run, my finish time was 1:09. I really learned to swim properly, so I could do that race.  And I bought a decent bike, soon to be replaced by an outstanding bike - that is still hanging around my life.  

I ran mostly 5k races, almost every Saturday morning from October through about April, in Florida, the road race season is winter when the weather is cooler.  I did two seasons of sprint series triathlons, then work and school got in the way. There were a couple of 10k (6.2 mile) races in the season, I had to arrange the day off from work to do those and be on time. There was an annual half marathon in Orlando, in early December.  I ran and finished that twice. The first time was miserable, and I wished I was dead the next day. The second time was just unpleasant, and made me question why? 

Training carried on year around.  I ran every-other day. A typical work day, would have me up at 5:30, running on Park Avenue in Winter Park by 6:00, to the gym before 7:00 an hour in the weight room, shower dress and check in at the office by 9:00.  Work until 6:00 and two evenings a week, go to class from 6:45 to 9:30.  I would ride my bike, 30 to 50 miles each day on my days off, usually in the middle of the week.  

Looking back, it was a strange and funky time.  I was running from myself, changing myself, afraid of who I was, who I am, and at the same time trying to be the person I wanted. 

There were some wonderful runs, early mornings in Savannah, London, Amsterdam and Paris, gliding by seeing my reflection in the windows in the early morning light. There is a magic in running, floating along, to an internal rhythm. It always took me the first quarter to maybe first half mile to settle in, for my breathing to become comfortable, for my heart and breathing to sync up, then time both stood still and moved in a flash. Fatigue and pain came later, usually after the run (except for those cursed half-marathons.) 

I am glad I had those experiences. But I also realize that I pushed too much, I obsessed.  I didn't eat well, I didn't get enough rest. I was being superman and trying to do it all.  

Why did I quit? That is an even longer story. 

Why don't I go back to running?  Age, weight, titanium in my spine, it just isn't good for me. 

What is my current hopefully healthier obsession? Walking an hour a day, and 45 minutes of active movement in the pool.  Not the same, but it does feel good.