We’re from the government, and we’re here to help

I turned 66 in September, and my Full Retirement Age for Social Security is 66 and two months. After much great discussion right here on this very blog, I decided to file for benefits.

It was easy to do online, however, I wasn’t sure how they calculated the month of November. I didn’t want to mess this up, so I adjusted the timing to be sure I was absolutely positively Full Retirement Age and opted to receive my first payment in January.

Imagine my surprise when the phone rang, and it was a most pleasant woman from the Social Security Administration. She asked why I chose January. I explained my paranoia and said I figured January would ensure I didn’t have money deducted because I filed too soon.

She laughed and said this happens all the time, and that’s why she was calling. If I reach Full Retirement Age anytime in November, I could get my first check in December. Deal! She made the adjustment, and now I’m good to go.

I have to admit, I was reminded of my working days when suited-up people arrived in the hinterlands and said, “Hi, we’re from Corporate, and we’re here to help.”

But this time it was the government, and it appears to be true.

Thanksgiving

I’m not sure what Thanksgiving is going to look like this year. We’re getting new cabinet faces in the kitchen and a new countertop, and then all new flooring downstairs. Our contractor was supposed to start in September, but now he’s scheduled to start next week. I figure this could run into November or even later.

Oh, well. We can always celebrate on a different day. Even with just the two of us, celebration means cooking. We do a big turkey and eventually eat every last bite of it. Some gets made into delicious leftovers and a whole breast goes into the freezer.

Dessert is the big question. Last year I made a command decision and went with pumpkin cheesecake. We both loved it, but Dale likes apple pie, and I figure it’s his turn to choose. I could probably tell the story of my life through apple pie – moderate success, excruciating failures. Bad crust, ill temper.

All my recipes have notes about what worked, what didn’t. It would seem I could get this right. This year, I’m going to gather my recipes and create a new one. Danger, danger, Will Robinson.

You may recall I bought a steel pie pan recently. One might trot that out for apple pie, however, the pan sucked. I thought the corrugated bottom would increase crispiness, but I found it did quite the opposite. Some parts didn’t connect with the steel, and they remained soggy.

One pie made me so mad, I just threw the whole thing away, pan and all. Now, it’s just me and my Pyrex. As it was meant to be.

The year of the osis

For me, this has been the year of the osis. Osteoporosis, spinal stenosis. While I do have some lower back pain, it’s not really in my back, more like in my buttocks. And it’s actually quite manageable. I still swim, walk, play golf and do weights. Sitting is the worst.

I did visit a pain management specialist upon the recommendation of my primary care physician, and it was pretty much a waste of time. She showed me the MRI results and basically guessed spinal stenosis is causing my pain. Because there has to be some explanation, right?

Steroid injections are an option, but I declined. It’s just not that bad, and she said it might not work and even if it does, the benefits don’t last all that long. A little short of sales skills. She was amazed I do all I do with the degree of stenosis she saw on the MRI. Which tells me maybe that’s not the cause.

Presumably, the human back hasn’t changed much in at least 500 years. And we didn’t always have MRIs to point the finger. People didn’t know what they didn’t know, and somehow, they managed to plod on, osis notwithstanding.

Cat-proofing cannabis

Finally, in the continuing adventures of a gentlewoman cannabis farmer, our cat, Riley, discovered the joys of destruction and killed my last seedling. There’s no THC in it at that point, so it’s not like he’s a kitty stoner. He just liked digging up the young plant and chomping on it.

Many thanks to Dale, who built me a cat-proof fence. Now, Riley sits there and stares at it. Weeping, one kitty tear at a time. How. Could. This. Happen.

We actually have two plants. Our outdoor plant, Steve, didn’t get enough sun and barely grew. However, there are a couple of nice buds, which are about ready for harvest. Next year, I will grow my outdoor plant in a container and put it where there’s lots of sun.

My indoor plant, Ralph, is coming along nicely with his new protective barrier. His power comes from a south-facing window and a 450-watt LED grow light.

I actually don’t use much cannabis, except for my homemade balm, but I enjoy the challenge of growing it. It’s a harmless (and in many places legal) retirement hobby for those of us who aren’t much into travel. You can always stay home with your plant and your Pyrex.

If you’re at all interested, I got started with a kit from A Pot for Pot. Easy and cost-effective. My best indoor plant yielded 30 grams, which is a nice little stash of weed, if one is so inclined.