Happy to be 63 and retired

I had a birthday this week – 63! I was going to get spiffed up and take a picture for the record, but getting spiffed up rarely interests me. Here I am sporting my signature retirement casual look.

When I was in Santa Cruz visiting my gorgeous friend, Monica, who just turned 40, the concierge was helping her with suggestions for the evening. I said hmmm, he didn’t help me, what’s up with that? We got dressed for dinner, and I wore my new skinny jeans. She said, well, he just hasn’t seen your butt yet.

Aw, that’s what friends are for.

Honestly, I am grateful to get older. I was 43 when I had a variation of stage 3 ovarian cancer, and here I am, 20 years later. I was unlucky to get it but exceptionally lucky to survive. I definitely want to rock my age, and I found unexpected inspiration this week on the golf course.

I played golf in my Wednesday league with three women I hadn’t yet met. Three of us were walking, and the other took a cart. The woman in the cart turned out to be 80. I was impressed until I discovered one of my fellow walkers was 82! I told her she was my new role model. She laughed and said, yeah, I just keep walking. The 80-year-old in the cart wasn’t nearly as spry.

Note to self: just keep walking.

Like most people, my golf game varies. On any given day, I can shoot 85 or 100. I’ve been reading up on the mental game, because there’s nothing wrong with my swing … just my brain. I played again on Friday, and I was telling my partner about positive self-talk, such as, “I am the best putter! I can’t wait to make this putt and show off my putting skills!”

It’s not true, but I’ve been doing it anyway, and I have made some unlikely putts. I was describing it to Dale and said, you know, fake it ‘til you make it. He had never heard that expression before.

It’s a work thing. You probably don’t remember that anymore.

Well, you haven’t worked in a year, so they probably don’t say that anymore.

I lost my work creds in a year?

Sorry, but yes.

You know what? I’m OK with that.

I thought you would be.

Dale makes me amazing two-mushroom lasagna with red pepper tomato sauce for my birthday, so I stayed home and worked as sous chef, chopping and weighing while he cooked. Between the two of us, it’s an all-day affair, but damn it’s good. We freeze the leftovers in individual portions, and what a treat that is (along with all the other great stuff in our freezer).

Monica got me semi-hooked on The Handmaid’s Tale. I read the book many years ago but hadn’t seen the Hulu show until we watched it together in Santa Cruz. It’s so good but so disturbing. When I first read the book, I thought this could never happen, but now I’m not so sure.

Last night I decided I was not going to watch this anymore. It’s too depressing. Instead, I watched The Book Club with Jane Fonda, et al. Mostly a bunch of older women sucking down boatloads of wine and complaining about their sex lives, which do improve significantly for all of them over the course of the movie. The Handmaid’s Tale seems more realistic to me. I suppose I’ll have to watch the rest of it.

Dale and I don’t get each other gifts anymore, but I did buy myself a Nespresso Virtuo coffeemaker, which was 50 percent off at Williams Sonoma when I ordered it but is only 20 percent off now. That little machine makes a damned good cup of coffee, and I like that it takes pods, because I typically don’t drink flavored coffee but like to keep it around for guests.

To finish off my birthday week, the temperatures dropped to the high 70s. It’s gorgeous outside, and it makes me feel happy to be 63 and retired!