Retirement: A Full-Time Job

Retirement: Too Much Fun, Too Little Time to Blog

Poor neglected blog; I just got back from a road trip visiting another retired friend and am now behind on blog posts and two meme tags.  Even in this full-time job that is the unfettered pursuit of happiness, there are still not enough hours in the day!

When I was a kid, my absolute favorite show was the Carol Burnett Show.  Ive been thinking about that lately since hearing that Harvey Korman died.  I remember vividly how much I actually wanted to BE Carol Burnett.

In the sixth grade, our teacher had each of us write an autobiography, which I unearthed this week.  I had so much fun reading this and, in light of my recent post about wanting to grow up to be an actress, will share some excerpts from that great literary work. 

From Chapter V--My Opinions, Wishes and Dreams:

"I wish that Tim Conway and Carol Burnett lived next door to me and we were good friends.  I wish people would not tell secrets in front of me. . ."

"When I grow up, I am going to become an actress, comedian, and singer (like Carol Burnett).  I want to have my own variethy show and if I don't, I want a show like Mary Tyler Moore.  I am going to get married to a person who won't mind me working and we won't have kids until I don't have an every week show.  When I don't have a steady job, I am going to write books."

"If I don't become an actress and all that (which I doubt very much), then I want to become a publisher for two reasons:  1)  the first reason is I like to read, 2) the second reason is because I like to discover new talent."

From Chapter IV--My Hobbies:

"I also love acting.  I have been in many plays."

"My last hobby is writing.  I like to write poems and stories when I have nothing to do."

And there you have it, I still like to write when I have nothing to do.  It's just that I've had a lot to do this week, and so haven't been writing (or playing meme tag.)  Thirty-two years later and I'm not much different from that sixth-grade girl.

  

I Hate Nature

   

I hate nature.  Don't get me wrong, I love looking at it out the window from the comfort of my couch.  I just don't like it when it joins me on the couch, as the tick did last night.

A couple of weeks after I retired, we moved into our vacation home.  Our plan is to live here for a few years before selling it to finance our golden years.  It's in a beautiful wooded spot, but living here is really going to test the mettle of this bug/rodent/snake skittish girl.

The bugs that call this place home are a varied and ugly bunch.  A friend that was living here a couple of years ago found a scorpion in the house, so now I am very vigilant about my surroundings at all times.  A midnight trip to the bathroom is not without its anxieties.  The decision to just hold it 'till morning often trumps comfort.  I am reluctant to risk putting my feet on the floor in the dark--the territory of who knows what creepy-crawly.

I was not one of those children fascinated with bugs and would never have been found actually picking one up.  I was the child that ran shrieking the other way (and haven't changed much since growing up). 

Our first night after moving up here I had banished Doug to the guest room for snoring infractions.  At 2am he was up, all the lights were on, and a look of panic was on his face.  "Do you hear that?"  I didn't hear that.  "I'm not sleeping in that room, there's a NOISE."  He came to join me.

I put earplugs in.  "Do you hear that?"  (He shook me awake since I had earplugs in--so, no, I didn't hear that, but thanks for waking me up AGAIN.)  I listened until I heard what he heard--a rodent party of some sort in the attic or below the house.  Mickey must have scored some primo nuts because they were really living it up.  Party's over now, we've trapped 6 mice under the house since that night.

Now the biggest invader in the house is the Box Elder bug.  They are all over the outside of the house and are mating in the landscaping mulch.  Many have found their way inside.  If you smash them, they leave a red spot, so you really have to pick them up, something that I am unwilling to do.  If Doug is not here, I have to get the vacuum hose.  Three feet away is about as close as I want to get to most of the creatures sharing my home.

It's a good thing our front door is windowed.  Because I think if I had opened the door without looking, the squirrel pictured above would have come right in the house.  He sat on the front doorstep for about a half an hour--as if he was actually waiting for someone to open the door for him.  I began to wonder if this was my reincarnated Beagle sitting there thinking "what the heck--did they seal up my doggy door?"

Keeping Secrets

A couple of weeks ago, my husband Doug came home from biking with a friend and told me "I've got a secret I'm not supposed to tell you so act surprised when they tell you."  I think he figured that since the secret was one that I would find out eventually (his wife is pregnant), it was kind of an exception to the secret-keeping rule.  I said I would act surprised when they told me, and even worked out an act in my head.

A couple weeks later I was on.  We were having lunch with Doug's biking buddy (DBB) and he asked me, "So, what do you think about three kids?"

I played dumb, "You mean three kids as a rule?  I think it's a bad idea."  I can get away with this, being someone that wants zero kids.

DBB looked perplexed.  "Doug, didn't you tell her?"

I kept up the act, "Tell me what?"

He said "Dude, I thought you said you had to tell her!"

"Tell me what?"  I said, "Now you have to tell me!"

DBB confessed they were having a third child.

I took off my sunglasses and stared him right in the eye, "Who's the daddy?"  I said, "Because I know you just got the snip-snip."

"Well yes, we found out right before the snip-snip.  Dude I can't believe you didn't tell her, you said you had to tell her!"

"Yeah,"  Doug said, "I did tell her."

He ratted me out!  He not only can't keep a secret, he can't keep the secret that he didn't keep the secret!  Men.

DBB did commend me on my performance, though, so that's worth something.