The Third Chapter, Year 1

So, you would think, "Hey, lucky you. You are retired!"  And, that is no doubt so true, absolutely and 100%.  I feel blessed.  I feel grateful.  I feel lucky.  My husband and I are healthy, happy and have enough money to actually stop full-time work in our early 60s.  But I have also experienced a few challenges coming to terms with no longer working full-time.  My good friend, a still hard-working, overworked school administrator, frequently tells me, half joking but sort of seriously, as she listens to my stream of consciousness, sometimes garbled ramblings as I figure this out, "Champagne problems."  And, I would agree with her, wholeheartedly.  I always reflect anew after sitting with her over giant lattes in a cute local cafe or after a long conversation on the phone, I reflect on how lucky I am to be where I am at (not that I didn't work hard to get here!) but nonetheless and to my genuine surprise,  it has been a complex transition.

I am currently re-reading a book that has provided some insight to me during these last 6 months entitled, The Third Chapter - Passion, Risk and Adventure in the 25 Years After 50 by Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot.  I would edit the title, by the way, Passion, Risk, and Adventure Until you Die; what do you stop living at 75?    Last winter as we wintered in Florida, our first retirement winter, I was off and on fairly convinced that I was losing my mind, or at the very least suffering from a brain tumor which caused massive headaches that encompassed my entire head and neck area and felt as though an odd head-shaped device had been custom-made and was randomly tightened throughout the day.  As my husband happily read volumes of books under the porch by the pool or played golf (we all enter retirement with different mindsets!), I spent 1/2 the time managing a mind-numbing headache and/or debating the value of life and thinking about, reading about, and ruminating on the mysteries of illness and death.  To be fair, during the previous Fall 3-month trip around the country, over 9,000 happy and wonderful miles trailing a 21 foot trailer and sharing a truck cab with my husband and yellow lab, I was way too busy navigating and gazing out the window to even think, I am not longer a full-time working person, now what?  Up and down, that's how I would describe my third chapter, first year after retirement.

But, as winter sets in in New England, with a supposed cyclone bomb (ridiculous) forecasted for yesterday, with high winds and snow (big deal, it snowed, we dug out and let's move on) I am once again faced with what to do?  The house is organized better than ever, bills are all up-to-date and filed in the right folders, I have my times for working out and seeing friends/family but there is a lot to the day beyond that.  We do have a lot of work to do on the house, re-finish the floors, get the downstairs studio set up so I can actually do my art down there, paint the upstairs room so I want to write in there and do my morning yoga.  Again, I hear, "Champagne problems."  But it has been a time for me to really look at what I want to do and I now see, although I never would have imagined, why some people take a part-time job.  Ms. Lightfoot would encourage me in these endeavors and even calms my nerves as I waffle, feeling not a little bi-polar swinging between elation at being retired and a bit in a panic over what's next.  I am comforted in what she writes, that during the 3rd act of life, we reconsider our origins, sometimes healing ourselves as we review and even reimagine the entirety of our life reflecting on oh so long ago and then moving forward with that.

The joy, absolutely, of retirement for me is that I no longer feel compelled to listen to anybody I don't want to.  Nor in retirement do I have to do very many things I completely disagree with.   I no longer feel a need to keep anybody happy (well, this is more or less true).  My life and time is pretty much up to me.  And that is amazing and so wonderful, freeing and exhilarating (on the days when I don't have a headache - well hasn't happened since Florida!).  Fortunately my husband and I get along well even joined-at-the-hip as we pretty much are these days.  I let him believe he's the boss and he does the same for me.

So today as I stood in the kitchen and really thought about what I wanted to do with my time,  my time I so value and have gratitude for now and going forward, I remembered again what I have always known.  I love creating art, jewelry, rugs, clothing, painting furniture and floors and walls crazy colors and writing about my life and my thoughts about what I see, know and experience to be true.  I enjoy travel, meeting new people, seeing new ways of being.  I love health and fitness, yoga and weight lifting among my new favorites.  Strong and flexible, not what you imagine in older age and yet that is one of my goals.

And as I considered my interest in writing, in particular, on this chilly afternoon (predicted high of 5 and low of -7 tomorrow) I recalled and then reviewed a couple of blogs I have created and posted in throughout the years, this one,  Joyful Artist and Tilly's Joyful Travels.  And with that, I was inspired to fiddle around with my Christmas present, a really fine digital camera (thank you dear husband) figuring out how to take shots (which aperture, what exposure, which button!) and then upload them to my computer (via cable, wifi, card file) so that I could "insert" them into the blog.  Notice the fuzzy shot of the book up above?  I have a ways to go.  All good thinking things, however, to ward off Alzheimer's, right?

We leave in about 3 weeks, headed south.   My camera and blog are coming along.

Third Chapter, Year Two, let's see what she brings.

UpKeep of the Newly Retired

Me in NYC with brother - trying on "products"

Last night I had to laugh as I congratulated myself for completing every task on my evening To-Do-Before-Bed list.  Frequently, and knowing better, I just plop into bed.  So as I settled under the covers last night, knowing that I had "checked" off every item on that list, I was amused and not a little proud of myself.

What's on that upkeep list, you ask?  Well, first, I swallowed (choked down?) the entire mountain of pills I lay out each day and don't always take because it's an intimidating number of caplets and softgels not easily consumed in even two handfuls.  In fact I can be a bit of a gagger when it comes to pills.  "No problem," I tell my granddaughter, " just put a few into your mouth, take a gulp of water, relax and swallow."  I know this routine well because that's what I do every time I ingest that gag-worthy pile of pills.  I take all these pills in hopes of ensuring a healthy entrance into retirement and onto the next 33 years.  I write "33 years" because our financial planner recently wrote 95 as my "termination" date on some paperwork related to our investments.  Termination date?  What if I don't want to die in 2049?  I guess that's how the accountants, attorneys and number people view death in the financial world, terminated like the T-800 cyborg as he melts into the giant fiery, molten abyss in the 1984 syfy movie Terminator.  You know,  the movie where Schwarzenegger says in a deep and foreboding voice dripping with a thick German accent, "I'll be back."  Wait, that was T2 (Terminator 2...bit of a syfy fan,  I am).  In the 1984 movie he was crushed to death.  Terminated, crushed, either way I am supposed to be gone from this earth in 33 years according to my financial planner.  And 95?  I'll take that but hoping it's a healthy skiding-to-the-end 95 and that my husband is by my side although his "termination" or expiration date was listed as 90.  He tells me, in response to hearing his life is predicted to end at 90, "We're doing a Thelma and Louise at some point so there won't be one of us left to mourn the other!"  He's such a romantic.  Just the thought of us, Rusty and Flo, rolling our battery-powered wheelchairs over the nearest cliff makes my heart flutter...

Anyway, back to the boatload of anti-aging supplements, what makes me laugh is the shear number of pills I take (or at least lay out to take), and that none of them are prescription, thankfully not yet (my friend says how lucky I am to not have liver, heart, bone, or some other health problem I need a pill for but I tell her, hey, I had all the mental health struggles in my family's biology so we are even).  Here's the impressive list of supplements/spices/oils I lay out each day in hope of taking:   CoQ10; Multi For Her +50; Triple Omega 3-6-9 (flax, fish, and borage (?) oil); low dose safety coated aspirin; OsCal Extra D3 calcium supplement; advanced and double strength glucosamine chondroitin with calcium and vitamin D3; turmeric curcumin with Bioperine (?).  Just writing that list makes me wonder what the hell am I really taking...Bioprene (just looked that one up - thermoplastic tubing? or I am hoping, what's added to my turmeric curcumin is the other definition....black pepper fruit extract which I know makes tumeric more "bioavailable")!  This whole concoction is supposed to support my aging bones, my aging immune system, and my aging cardiovascular system.  I hope so.  I am counting on this.

Next on my list is the events that happen in the bathroom prior to bed.  The cleaning events.  And, so I went upstairs and tended my teeth by whitening them, flossing them, brushing them, and  then by swishing around non-alcohol mouthwash (my frizzy-haired dental assistant tells me, "Alcoholic mouthwash dries your gums out.").  I finish this little regime by using those tiny green scrubbing brushes to dislodge any lingering piece of meat, onion or mushroom that could still be hiding out between my teeth.  Although none of this will help with the fact that my aging capped teeth (some of those caps are 30 years old at this point) will soon need to be re-capped because they are, as the dentist put it, "Just old," I am counting on this nightly dental plan to at least help keep my gums healthy ("Your gums are slightly receding but then you are older," my non frizzy-haired dental hygenist casually commented the last time she dug and scraped around in my mouth).  I am also thinking, this should keep me cavity free. 

Done with teeth I move onto my aging and wrinkled  (wow, what's going on around those eyes I wonder as I look in the mirror?) face.  Using Neutrogena cleansing towelettes to remove my makeup  (with lavender in it to promote quality sleep....."night calming" it's advertised as....oh and by the way, Prevention magazine calls lavender the sweet scent of sleep! And who knew that Latin derivation of lavender is "to wash" and that the University of Maryland Medical Center endorses lavender because "research confirms" that lavender can have a soothing, calming, sedative (?) effect).  So, it turns out these little wash cloths I have been using at night not only rid my pores of grime but they apparently sedate me, as well.   Maybe that's why I have been sleeping so soundly ever since retiring?  Anyway, next I smeared on a grainy white mask (from an expensive cosmetics company my brother who looks 40 at 52 recommended to me, Rodan + Fields REDEFINE) all over my cheeks, forehead, neck.  This has to sit and "harden" on my face for a bit before being washed off and so I walked into the bedroom where my husband was getting ready for sleep (he takes off his pants and shirt and lays down), "You look like an aborigine with that stuff on your face and your hair all wild. You should look in the mirror and take a picture of that!"  Um, thanks, husband.  After 8 minutes I returned to the bathroom, washed off the aboriginal facial, and slathered on a nightly (well, supposed to be nightly!) and inexpensive, drug store alpha hydroxy and aloe anti-wrinkle cream (my brother would gasp at my second-rate night cream), checked for loose chin hairs (yeah, when the aesthetician said she noticed a long hair coming out of my chin at my last visit and wanted to know if she should pull it, I wanted to say, no, really, I was hoping another one would grow so I could braid them!).

Done with the head, my nightly regime is still not complete until I hop into bed and, laying there, cream my feet with a thick foot cream (this has to be the last thing on my list to do because if I do it before crawling under the bed covers, I have to creep ever so carefully across our bedroom hardwood floors so as to no feel like I'm riding a banana peel as I slip my way across the room from bathroom to bed).  I have few pet peeves but for some weird reason I hate nothing more than those hideous, unattended cracked heels you can see on some women as they break out their summer sandals (don't they even look before they wear?) and so thick foot cream goes on those little feet of mine (hey, what's that old-lady bump on my right big toe?)  right before I close my eyes.

Pilled, flossed, brushed, washed, and creamed....nighttime upkeep complete.  Check, check. 

Pooped and Prepped Pup

Olive, Olivia...Little Ms. O

We are taking Olivia (aka Olive and well, that alias is a whole other blog post!) with us on our U.S.A. trailer trip.  I am a little worried about Ms. O because she can be a barky greeter with hair raised (a golden strip of auburn-colored doggie hair that literally stands up on on high alert about half way down her back) at the sound of a knock or sometimes at the sound of a tree branch cracking/knocking somewhere outside.  It's like Pavlov's dog.  Sound, bark, reaction.  Her hair goes up and as her happy lab tail joyfully wags back and forth, all 58.6 pounds of her (down from a hefty 86 pounds 2 years ago!) charges defensively towards whatever demon (human or otherwise) she believes darkens the doorstep of our peaceful little home in the woods.  Given that our impending adventure launch date is some 5 weeks away,  I am determined I can tame the beast (hey, I used to work with kids who spit, hit, ran away, called the principal, "Mr. Shitty Pants"and/or ran up and down the halls of the elementary school I worked at barefoot....I can do this!) and so am back into being her personalized doggie trainer complete with a clicker, treat pouch, and training sessions.  She's a smart pup and already has re-learned (for we once went to puppy school and she graduated with honors) to, "Come!" when I call or "Leave it!" when I command (yell? scream? try to say with an even tone).  Even in full bark and charge mode, she is just beginning to hear my words, stop, and turn and then walk straight to me for the tiniest piece of chopped salami or cheddar cheese.  I am feeling confident she will learn to be a better greeter before we roll away with Mini literally trailing behind us (husband's warning...do not leave the dog tied to the travel trailer before departing).  But just in case we have to continue our training on the road and in Mini, my ever-crafty husband has plans to reinforce the lower portion of our cute little screen door so she doesn't lunge from trailer to the outside world, barking and charging and shredding as she defends us from whatever she believes threatens our very existence.

Traumatized and resting, drooping on the couch

 But, preparing to bring a pooch on a trip in a trailer across the United States has turned out to be quite a job.  Talking with friends who camp, ladies who run campgrounds, and reading anything I can find on the internet (because you can always believe what you read on the internet), I soon realized you need updated puppy papers (kind of like her passport, I guess) to gain admittance at campgrounds and to legally cross the Canadian border.  Once, when I barely knew my husband, we took a road trip in his little red Toyota with his mellow black lab, Cocoa.  We were headed to Quebec.  As we approached the customs station at the border, my husband casually drapped a blanket over Cocoa's head (after he had her sit at my feet on the passenger side of the truck) and said, "Keep her quiet."  I was terrified we'd be arrested and jailed and yet we rolled away from the little shack and men in official looking costumes (oops...uniforms) and right into Canada; repeating the same frightening process on our way back into the states.  Once again, I digress, but I see the need for papers.   And so today we visited the local vet (Dr. Abby H. who looked about 11 years old with baggy pants, pink tennis shoes and several pimples on her face...what happened to the bearded, pipe-smoking, confidence-inspiring Dr. James Herriot?....you know the guy from All Creatures Great and Small?) where Olivia was poked with several needles (rabies vaccine included), invaded through her nose with a distemper mist, restrained while her ears, teeth, and eyes were examined and weighed.  Along with the 20 questions we answered (I felt like I was in the pediatrician's office with a 2-year old) and the poop sample we left behind not to mention the hefty bill (nearly $300) we were in and out in less than 30 minutes. 

In the end we have a pile of papers for a healthy Ms. O so we can set sail, commence or otherwise embark on our exciting vacation with pup ready to go.  But, first, she needs to recover  from her nerve-wracking visit to the vet:) 

Recovering, snoring pup

Groupon Coupon - Another Bargain for the Trip

My husband is a big fan of bargains (and is quite the bargain hunter...see previous post on the cap he bought for the truck, saving us $1200).  He loves Groupon.  A few weeks ago he sent me an e-mail with  a Groupon coupon attached (just writing this "groupon coupon" makes me smile).  Advertised on the page were several things you could buy:  a Biplane Trip over Acadia Park via Acadia Park Tours ($199 on sale for $84), a One Hour Private Archery Lesson via Lakeside Archery ($30 on sale for $12), Water-Park Visit for Two FunTown SplashTown USA for $33 (normally $54), Monthly Delivery of Doggie Goods from Barkbox ($99 on sale for $68) or a personalized throw blanket (originally $79.95 but Groupon coupon price was $16.99).  My husband wrote in his e-mail to me, "Let's get one of these for our anniversary and for the trip."  I assumed he meant the photo blanket for our travel trailer, Mini, although it might have been fun if not useful to take archery lessons since we will be traveling the wilds of the U.S.A and this skill might come in handy for defense (squirrels?  maybe chipmunks?) or a quick dinner.  In any event, my husband's sentimentality never ceases to amaze me.  He's always reminded me of Grizzly Adams (although less so now that he has dropped some 30 pounds!) with a loud, deep (sexy!) voice, big muscular and tall body, now with a grey beard and all, and yet he has always had this big, soft and loving heart.  

Anyway, back to the bargain......early this week I found a good-sized soft and squishy package, stuffed into our mailbox that stands out on the cul-du-sac (now that's a strange word, comes from the French, "bottom of a sack"?) at the edge of our property.  I had no clue what might be inside and, so, was surprised (maybe shocked) when I opened it up and then laid out this giant photo montage of Ken and I staring back at me (see photo, above, and think, this is the size of her loveseat and there are 9 enormous photos of those people!).  Along with noticing my ever-changing hair styles and the size of Ken"s face  (his face size fluctuates with every pound he gains/loses) I had burst into laughter and knew this was perfect for Mini.  Although I predict it's going to be more than a little weird sleeping under a photo collage of our own faces on a chilly night in Yellowstone National Park (yeah, I really didn't visualize this when adding and sorting all the photos to make this thing) and can only wonder what our camper neighbors will think when we air out our "personalized" blanket and they look over at 18 smiling Markley faces, but what fun.   This undoubtedly is a one-of-a-kind bargain (acrylic and made  in China, say what?) that celebrates our loving and long relationship getting engaged, being married, having anniversaries, traveling, retiring and being so excited about our upcoming trip. 


Groupon coupon...great idea (I think!) husband dear. 
 

Capped and Ready for the Road

There are so many things I love about my husband.  He's smart as well as clever, has a great sense of humor,  he's loyal, loving, kind, a great father/husband/grandfather, and has an adventurous and bold spirit, among many other qualities that make me fall more in love with him as each year unfolds.  And, he's a bargain hunter.  In preparation for our road trip, we bought Mini, our 21 foot travel trailer.  We love her but she's small.  Being small, she doesn't offer up much storage.  To solve that problem, my husband suggested we get a "cap" (say what?) for his truck so that we could have additional space to store stuff.  Although I am committed to being a minimalist on this trip (not buying anything until we need it), we are going to need access to a few more essentials than can fit into mini Mini.  Checking with friends and online we were sticker-shocked to find that the kind of cap we want/need can run up to $1500.  Wise and crafty husband started keeping an eye out on Craigslist and and found this baby, now happily snuggled into the bed of his truck.  The seller was offering this brand-new, custom black cap, specially designed for his Titan for $400.  Apparently he put it on his truck and just didn't like it.  So, he took it off and posted it for sale on Craigslist.  Used but unused.  My husband offered $300.  One quick trip to the outskirts of Portland, Maine last night and our new cap is road-ready.  It is fully carpeted inside (on the inside roof - sounds weird but it's not when you see it), has side windows with screens, locks in the back and looks perfect on husband's truck!  And, it's the brand name recommended to us as the best. 

One more step towards launch date! 

Retirement Midadventures and Happy Trails of the Traveling Markleys: Rusty, Flo, Mini and Olive

The trailer, the hitch, the truck...locked and loaded

With wild wind-blown hair...ready to see the U.S.

Three hours after we arrived at Campers Inn we were hooked up and ready to hit the road.  My husband, is in transition.  No, he is not going to start wearing a dress, grow his hair down to his shoulders, or put his size 12 Shrek feet into high heels.  He is retiring!  After working with no more than 2 consecutive weeks off at a time since he was 13, he is stepping down from his position as president of his company and literally moving on!  And with the "transition" I am going to try to start calling him Rusty.  Yep, not sure what I think of that but will try.  It's his mid-west name.  It's what our granddaughter calls him, "Grandpa Rusty."  It's what all the family in Michigan and Indiana call him.  Not Kenny, not Ken, but Rusty.  I am ready and willing to support my transitioning husband having transitioned myself not so many days ago :)

So, these pictures are taken after 3 hours at Campers Inn.  Yes, 3.  The moment we arrived we were greeted by a smiling face at the front desk (and hot dogs!) and directed to the service desk where we were introduced to Brian.  Brian is a trailer tech and an amazingly patient human being who was going to give us the low-down our 21 foot Rockwood trailer in terms of how everything works.  "So, one more time, you flush the black water, then the grey then pump the toilet and put the blue stuff in? I asked him for the 2nd, maybe 3rd time finally taking notes in my notebook.   Patient is the key word to describe this young man but he was also trailer tech smart and friendly.

Brian, amazing trailer tech man - is he hiding from us and our unending "inquisition" behind those yellow shades?

"Boy are we lucky and happy to get you to give us the trailer tour," I tell him about an hour and 1/2 in.  "Yes you are!" he smiles.  Yes, we were, indeed.  Together we spent 2 full hours in the blazing sun while he demoed and pointed and talked about every feature on our new trailer.  By the way, along with Ken's transition name, Rusty, we have named our trailer Mini.  See, her name is already right there on our trailer :P  Anyway, after learning how to pump black, grey, and clear water; how to use the outdoor shower (hot and cold water!); how to push the slider out (just the push of a button and the slider and the awning wake up and increase Mini's living space immensely); how to pump the toilet and how much water to fill in the bowl before/after you take care of business; how to pull down the murphy bed (queen-sized mattress lays right over he sofa); how to start the stove (I have to nearly lay on the floor to light the pilot light because inflexible husband won't be doing that little job); manage the radio/TV system (with indoor/outdoor speakers and TV hook-ups); and how to manage the hitching system along with signing paperwork, handing over a check, getting a sales pitch for EcoRVPro  (waxing the exterior and microbe repelling the interior?) and insuring it, we finally hop in, Ken steps on, oops, RUSTY, steps on the gas and all we hear is, "Click, click, click,"  ala National Lampoon Vacation!   "Not a good beginning," Rusty (who?) looked at me and we both laughed.  We both smiled and laughed...what an adventure this is going to be!  Apparently when another technician (in a green outfit so he is the hitching guy, I'm thinking because tech Brian was in a blue outfit), I digress.....when he was working on our hitch he apparently turned on the fan to cool down while hooking, unhooking and fiddling with the trailer lights/brakes in the 90 degree muggy New England July heat and accidentally left it on for so long that it drained our car battery.  With a quick jump and smiling apologies, however, we were on our way.

Rusty....relaxed and ready!

Yep, I am loving retirement, so far....the misadventures of Rusty, Flo (yes, my crazy name for our camper trips...hey maybe it should be Flow...now I like that!), Mini and our outlaw dog, Olive (that story is for another blog entry).  Transitioning....that's for sure!

Wally World, here we come! 

Retirement Day 1

So, it has been 3 and 1/2 years since my last post!  And that is how busy I have been.  But, that's all at an end today because today is the first day of the rest of my life .  Today I am no longer a full-time employee of anybody's!  I feel like I have been released from prison.  Sounds dramatic but that's exactly how I feel.  Several people wrote in my retirement cards, "Enjoy every moment."  And, that is absolutely what I intend to do. I  love to write because it is my way of reflecting, thinking, making sense of it all; so here will be my chronicle of retirement adventures, thoughts, and feelings!

Although I am feeling deep and joyous freedom this early Wednesday morning, my body feels like a Mac truck ran over it, backed up and did it again.  My left arm aches, my left quad is tender, my right thumb is sore and I have that little reminder of sciatica in my right hip.  The last few days of work I had what I call a body break down.  All the emotional ups and downs I was feeling seemed to settle in my body.  I even started sneezing uncontrollably, coughing, and feeling all the worst effects of allergies which I generally never feel.   When I graduated with my Ph.D. in psychology 20 years ago, nearly to the day, my brother gave me a T- shirt that exactly described how I felt, "You just don't understand the extent of my fatigue!"  And that is once again true.  Within a week I have plans to be back to weight lifting with a trainer and regular workouts, back to regular yoga and yoga retreats, back to daily meditation and onto to art projects (giant yard art!), travel, house renovation, writing and and more writing, yoga therapy (to keep that kid connection and more for me to write about!), and most importantly focusing on health and happiness (for me and my loving and amazing husband)!

On the agenda today is picking up the Granddaughter and just hanging out.  I need a few days to rest and recover but the excitement of owning my own time again is overwhelming and makes me soulfully happy!  I never HAVE to work a day again in my life.  Wow and wow again.