Go with the flow

When I look back at my working life, I usually reflect on the negatives. I’m not purposefully a glass half-full kind of person, but it does seem that’s my default. Lately, I’ve been thinking about the positives, and there were a few surprises.

I was reading a golf psychology book, as I am wont to do, and there was a reference to the old nursery rhyme:

Row, row, row your boat

Gently down the stream

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily

Life is but a dream

I’m not the first to realize this could be a beautifully simple guide to happiness. As I reflected on the meaning behind these lyrics, it occurred to me I sometimes row hard in the other direction because that’s the way I want to go, damn it.

But wait! Is there a benefit to rowing with the current? Going with the flow? Imagine.

Here’s where we come back to my work experience. I was stuck in a nice but dead-end job and couldn’t seem to find a way out. When I wasn’t working, I spent all my time on the job search. I had a few memorable interviews but no offers.

Only one person at work knew I was on the hunt. I actually didn’t know her well but somehow decided she was the one to trust. That’s a little telling, isn’t it?

Anyway, one day I whined I couldn’t get a job. She said, “That’s because it wasn’t your job. When it’s your job, the doors will open.”

Indeed. After interviewing for a job in Minnesota because by that time I would go anywhere, the hiring manager called to tell me I didn’t get it, but they thought I would be a good fit for their company. He offered to shop my resume around, and that led to an interview in Texas.

When they offered me the job, Dale and I stopped to think it through. What if it didn’t come with relocation? The next day they emailed me a document outlining the relo assistance, and it was amazing. Then Dale said, what about my job? Within days, he was laid off and got a nice exit package. And that’s how it all rolled out.

I went from a local utility in South Carolina to a large multinational Fortune 100 company, and while I was quite competent in my field, this was the big show. Easier for some than others. Having been raised by wolves, I had limited social acumen and not a lot of workplace savvy.

But I needed this job, and I was hellbent on figuring it all out. In addition to some great mentoring, the company offered lots of training, especially on the soft skills such as ethics, diversity and interpersonal communications, and I absorbed all of it.

Yes, some might say it was all about being politically correct, but at least we weren’t punching out flight attendants. I have developed new appreciation for having both feet planted solidly on the high ground. Only recently did it occur to me some of those nuances of behavior I learned at work are worth preserving in retirement.

Kind of like the monster’s transformation in Young Frankenstein, it turns out I liked having a calmer brain and a more sophisticated way of expressing myself. Communicating to make someone else more comfortable. Listening rather than telling. Remembering to say and instead of but. You do it enough, and you sort of become the person you were trying to be.

Even though I’ve previously harbored resentment over some of my work experiences, I can now see how the flow took me to a place where I could explore this better version my myself. The wolves had their charms but didn’t exactly give us a good head start.

That’s what I’ve been up to lately. Still learning. Sciatica is nearly gone. I’m walking a lot, playing golf and swimming. Lots of deep breathing – in through the nose, out through the mouth. I’m as surprised as anyone I could spend quality blogging time on all this touchy-feely stuff, but pain changes you.

And strangely enough, it’s not all bad if you go with the flow.

My first walking playlist

My favorite advice columnist these days is Carolyn Hax, who writes for the Washington Post. She’s not a therapist, but her responses are so intelligent and so insightful, I’d pay for some couch time with this journalist.

In a recent column, she urged a writer to respond to another person’s nasty comment with her honest feelings … something along the lines of, “What an unkind thing to say.” She said don’t let anything stand unchallenged. Invite difficult people out into the open.

Carolyn ends the column with this: “The truth is your power. Remaining calm is your superpower.”

Indeed!

After a shaky start earlier in my career, I became quite good at keeping things bottled up at work, where we used to say only the whale that surfaces gets harpooned. Or never complain, never explain. While I did speak up and was good at keeping calm in a crisis, figuring out what to say and when to say it was practically a full-time job.

Carefully choreographed restraint was useful in the workplace, but it’s not particularly helpful for the rest of our lives, when theoretically we are free to let it all hang out. But as it turns out, managing interpersonal communication is a key life skill we need more than ever in retirement.

I say that because I believe the default is to make us invisible. Have you noticed that? No longer young and jobby, sometimes it feels like no one sees or hears us anymore. At first, I was like, fine. Who cares? I’ll just keep a low profile and go about my merry way.

It worked for a while, but eventually it takes a toll. As I’ve written in previous posts, I believe my sciatica is at least partially exacerbated by repressed emotions. At first, I thought it was the big stuff, childhood drama and all that, but now I think it’s everyday communication or lack thereof.

In my last post, I wrote about my experience on the golf course, where I finally said in a very kind and truthful way how I felt about some behaviors I found unsettling. I feel great! Carolyn is right about owning your truth and staying calm.

It’s an art form. I’ve been practicing, asking more questions and being less judgmental yet stating quite clearly where I stand. As my communication skills improve, so does my back. Pain is complicated, and I understand not everyone will have the same experience, but it seems like it’s working for me. Perhaps there’s a nugget or two in this continuing saga that might help you.

My first Walking Playlist

I’m loving Spotify and have been goofing around with playlists. Yesterday, I walked for an hour to this playlist, and it was so much fun I couldn’t not share it. I didn’t use beats per minute or anything professional like that, so my advice is to keep your normal pace and not let the music drive you to do more than you safely can.

Walking is not required. Think of it as an eclectic collection of music that brings a smile to your face and makes you want to move. Maybe a little sing-a-long if you are so inclined. Below are the songs if you use a different streaming service. For an hour’s walk, I turn around somewhere in the middle of La Bamba.

  • Billie Jean – Michael Jackson
  • Yes Sir, I Can Boogie – Baccara
  • Streets of Bakersfield – Dwight Yoakam
  • Shake Your Hips – Joan Osborne
  • Everyday People – Sly & The Family Stone
  • The Holy Grail – John Fogerty
  • Bear Cat – Rufus Thomas
  • London Calling – The Clash
  • Dumas Walker – The Kentucky Headhunters
  • La Bamba – Flaco Jimenez & Steve Jordan
  • Refugee – Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
  • All The Lilacs in Ohio – John Hiatt & The Jerry Douglas Band
  • Stayin’ Alive – Bee Gees
  • Is Anybody Goin’ to San Antone – Texas Tornados
  • I Love to Love – Tina Charles
  • Highway 61 Revisited – Bob Dylan
  • Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone – The Band of Heathens & Ray Wylie Hubbard

Catching up to technology

I’ve surrendered to the privacy pirates and am enthralled with my new technology toys for music. I signed up for Spotify, paying for premium at $9.99 a month. The choice of music is amazing, and it’s fun to find old tunes you know and love as well as new stuff you’d like to explore but don’t want to buy.

Amazon is another excellent choice, but I tried Spotify first and decided to stick with it.

Next were wireless earbuds. I went with Carole’s recommendation of Samsung Galaxy Buds Live, and they’re great. I accidentally ordered the version bundled with a wireless charger pad. Although I planned to return the wireless charger, I’m sold! I just put the buds in their case and set that on the pad, and the fiesta begins. I can also use the pad to charge my cell phone.

All in all, it would seem I’ve at least partially caught up to this era. My tights from Athleta arrived, and they fit well and are quite stylish. Newly outfitted, I do feel more with it and am even more inspired to walk.

More on the Mind-body connection

My sciatica has improved, although it’s definitely not gone. Even after all the discussion we had here about some of the reservations we share regarding the mind-body connection, I still think it’s worth digging into my emotions to see if any negativity is contributing my physical problems. While I know this doesn’t apply to everyone, I have a history of stress-related illness.

As I said earlier, I’ve dealt with all my family drama, but this week I realized I still have some baggage from work.

Although I had a fine run, I was treated rather badly the last couple of years on the job. It’s a long story, but to extend my career with the company, I was pretty much forced to take a job working for a high-level bully and screamer. Everyone knew, but he delivered results, so they looked the other way.  

There’s more to the story than just him, and it would take another 10 pages to explain how it all went down. I try to think, oh, it was OK, but really, it wasn’t. I was well-compensated, and in the end, I came out way better off financially. The money definitely made retirement possible, but the whole thing still makes me angry.

I took to my journal and wrote all about it. I won’t frighten you with the inner workings of my mind, but putting my deepest feelings on paper helped me understand the role these emotions have on my every day life.

One thing I decided was to reframe how I experience golf. It might not seem like golf could be connected to work. I suspect some of you may be struggling with the same issue. We were so accustomed to performing for the king, that we feel we have to prove ourselves in some other way after we retire.  Whatever it is that drives us, we’d better be good at it.

For me, that was golf. I’ve been playing poorly, but I decided it didn’t matter. I am going to just focus on enjoying the challenges and pleasures of the game. I signed up for this week’s league play with the women.

It was chilly when we started about 9 a.m. but warmed up quickly and was turning into a beautiful day. I was playing OK. Not as well as I normally play, but I was fine and actually enjoying myself. As we walked off the 9th hole, our new leader was standing by with her timer and said we were 10 minutes behind schedule. I kind of wondered if it would come to this, as she sent sort of a snarky note in advance warning us about pace of play.

Much to my surprise, I said in a very calm and kind voice, “I’m done.” Then I explained that I really like her, she is one of my favorite people in the club and I don’t hold this against her in any way, but I have decided that golf under those conditions does not work for me personally. We’re supposed to be having fun out here, and we weren’t slowing anyone down. I added that I play all the time out there with men, and no one ever fucks with them about pace of play.

And then I walked away.

Later, I sent a note to one of my playing partners apologizing for the abrupt departure. She understood, and said they had to wait on the group in front of them on number 10. They took a picture of themselves waiting and texted it to the leader with a note, “So much for 10 minutes.”

Ha! I liked their style and felt a little bad I didn’t hang in there. On the other hand, I believe I did what I needed to do. If you’ve been reading this blog for a bit, you may recall this is not the first time I’ve addressed this achievement fixation and how it impacts life. Not to mention golf! It’s a tricky balance, but I think I’m getting closer to the sweet spot.

Leftover chicken

And that leaves me to chicken. We love roasted chicken and always freeze the carcass to make stock. Dale pulled off all the meat yesterday, so I made a list of food we make with leftovers:

  • Chicken enchiladas
  • Chicken tacos
  • Chicken Divan
  • Chicken Tortilla Soup
  • Chicken in Phyllo with Hazelnuts and Feta
  • Chicken Tetrazzini
  • Chicken Curry with Coconut Milk and Spinach
  • Mini Chicken Pot Pies
  • Chicken Quesadillas

Dale got to vote, and the winner is Mini Chicken Pot Pies. I make three. We split one and freeze the other two. For some bizarre reason, we like chicken pies with French fries. And a salad. We don’t always eat like 10-year-old boys.

I’d better get going. I like to make everything ahead of time and refrigerate until it’s time to cook.

Give a robot a chance

After we got the engineered hardwood flooring installed downstairs, I read the most important care tip is to keep it vacuumed. Although I’ve so far resisted the siren call of home cleaning services, I decided to give a robot a chance. 

Warning. This is not for people who are on a tight budget. While prices vary considerably, our floor guy said not to get a cheap one … they aren’t worth the money.

We got the iRobot Roomba i7+. I purchased it online from Lowe’s. With tax, total cost was $803.30. It’s kind of a shocker, but I get a rebate from online purchases on my credit card, so it’s not all bad. This model creates a smart map of your home so you can target specific areas without having the robot vacuum the whole house.

Robo, as we call him, is self-emptying. When he’s done with a job, you hear a giant whirl and the dirt, dust and cat hair go into a tower at the docking station lined with a bag you only have to change once a month or even less. The sound is loud, but it’s just for a few seconds.

I loves him. He had to do several tours of the whole house to map it out, but then I was able to go into the app and customize it. The rooms are labeled, so I can tell him to just vacuum the kitchen and breakfast area, which is where we make most of the mess.

When Robo does the whole house, he usually has to go back to the docking station to recharge. Then he’ll finish the job after he’s all juiced up. He really does a great job, and I almost want to give him a tip!

The hardwood floors are perfect for Robo. We only have two area rugs. One is a flokati, and I’m probably going to program Robo to skip him. He doesn’t get stuck or anything, but I’m not sure it makes a difference. The other rug is a tighter weave, and Riley, our cat, loves to hang out there. He is a long-haired cat and very fluffy. It has always been hard to get the cat hair off.

Robo kind of stirs up the cat hair on the rug and leaves it in clumps. It’s an improvement but not a solution. We’d be better off without any rugs, but we like it, and most importantly, Riley likes it. I just have to go back with the regular vacuum periodically to get the rest of the cat hair.

I mainly wanted Robo to help maintain the hardwood floors. Upstairs is carpeted, except for the bathrooms. Robo could map the whole upstairs, too, and he has a feature that supposedly will keep him from falling down the stairs. But at $800, I’m looking for a sure thing. I could create a keep-out zone, but only after he maps the area, so I’d have to watch and make sure he doesn’t get to the stairs.

While I may eventually go that route, for now, I put him in a room, press the “clean” button and close the door. The smaller rooms are easy because he doesn’t fill up the bin or run out of juice. Our master area is bigger, and both scenarios are possible. When I hear him quit, I take him back to the docking station and let him empty the bin and recharge.

I’m impressed. It’s amazing how much cat hair he manages to find. I even love the vacuum tracks on the carpet!

I hesitated to share my experience with the robot vac because I know not everyone has an extra $800 to burn. But if you do have some spare change, so far, I think it’s a retiree’s best friend. The house is cleaner, and it’s easier on your body … leaving you with more time to have fun!

Walking inspiration

My sciatica seems to be calming down, and I’m beginning to feel almost normal. I haven’t played golf due to the weather, but I’m continuing to walk. I wanted inspiration … something to think about besides every little muscle or nerve twitch, so I dug out my ancient iPod and charged it up.

I stopped using the iPod during my days as the self-appointed Safety Scout. For some reason, I was trying to reduce risk in my life, and wearing headphones on a walk seemed fraught with peril. That was back when E. coli was the worst thing you could drag home from the grocery store, and Omicron was just a letter of the Greek alphabet.

We’ve had a couple of years to rethink risk. I’ve concluded wearing headphones on a walk isn’t the scariest thing out there. I made some walking playlists years ago, and lo and behold, they’re still on the device and working properly. It was fun to walk and listen to some of my favorite music. I may even branch out to audio books and podcasts.

A sampler from the playlist:

  • Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum – Bob Dylan
  • Big Ball in Cowtown – Bob Wills
  • Train of Love – Doc Watson
  • Refugee – Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers
  • Beer Run – Todd Snider
  • Jobel-Liebe – Margret Almer
  • Rehab – Amy Winehouse
  • Waitress in the Sky – the Replacements
  • Love Shack – the B-52s
  • Used to be a Cop – Drive-by Truckers

All dated but still great as far as I’m concerned. Margret Almer is a yodeler. I love a good yodel.

I honestly can’t remember how old the iPod is. Maybe circa 2006? I’ll keep using it until it doesn’t work anymore, although I suppose I should have a backup plan in place. Your recommendations are most welcome.

There will be a bit of a learning curve, as I haven’t downloaded music in years. I’m not even sure I know how anymore. Do you still go to Apple? But updating my portable music tools and adding some new tunes might be a good little activity for me.

Also in the spirit of cheering one’s self up, I decided I would walk better in the cold if I looked cuter. Today I wore leggings, a fleece top and a puffy vest … as opposed to baggy track pants with long underwear for extra padding. A black and gray knit beanie kept my ears toasty.

I’ve decided I need a more colorful beanie. I also decided I need another pair of leggings. I ordered these from Athleta. They’re a little thicker than my normal pants, so they should help keep me warm without being too bulky. Some days I feel like the Michelin man out there.

We usually have Dale’s homemade pizza on Friday night and decided to stick with our plan even though it’s New Year’s Eve. Tonight’s toppings will be Italian cold cuts and sliced green olives. The olives add a nice brininess to balance the richness of the meat.

Today we went to the local Asian supermarket, 99 Ranch, which is a spectacular place. We bought two live Dungeness crabs. Dale steamed them and picked out all the meat for crab rolls tomorrow. We’re off to a good start.

Happy New Year!

Grumpy times

It has been a weird couple of weeks. They’re calling this back thing sciatica resulting from a herniated disc. I’m calling it bullshit, but that’s me. Anyway, I can’t sit for very long, so that’s why I haven’t posted much lately.

The weather is miserable by my wussy California standards. We need the snow up in the mountains and the rain down here in the valleys and foothills, so this deluge is a great thing but rather miserable. I’m more of a drought kind of gal.

Continuing with the grumpy theme, I may as well report it has also been quite cold compared to the typical weather we see this time of year. I think the high today is 42 degrees. It may as well be zero.

The golf course is unplayable in terms of mud and lakes where there aren’t supposed to be any. Plus, I have to be desperate to play golf when it’s in the 40s. Even my 85-year-old diehard golf buddy who plays no matter what canceled for the week. Somehow, that made me feel better. But here I am, stuck in the house with my loving life partner, trying not to get mad about something or everything.

I can’t quite make myself go to the club and swim, even though the pool is heated. However, I have been walking every day. Seriously bundled up but walking nonetheless. Which reminds me of this song by Jesse Dayton: MAY HAVE TO DO IT (DON’T HAVE TO LIKE IT). Check it out. It’s a good song for these unprecedented times.

I got my first Social Security payment this month. That was fun. I do like to be on the receiving end of money. Forfeiting? Not so much. A guy I used to work with called to tell me about the sweet exit package he got for being forced to retire. I did not get that package.

However, two days earlier I heard that a big jerk I had to deal with had some sort of crisis and is no longer with the company. And justice finally caught up with an ex-boss who helped inspire me to exit the scene at a high rate of speed.

While I didn’t hang in there long enough to see it all go down, the fact that I worked with some particularly toxic people and walked away with a wonderful retirement sort of makes me feel like last man standing. I’m just not standing over there anymore.

I’m torn about physical therapy. I still believe in the Dr. Sarno approach, which assumes most pain is repressed anger and rage, and we must work hard to bring those feelings to the surface to make the pain subside. He thinks you should bypass anything that focuses on the body instead of the brain. Most of what I’ve read says time heals most sciatica. Not a lot of evidence that interventions help.

So, there’s that. Then there’s COVID. The therapist I saw last week had a droopy mask and when I suggested he get a better fit, he said, “That’s OK. I’m good.”

Yay for you, buddy. What about me???

Until Omicron passes, going back to the physical therapy place seems like high risk. Loose masks, people huffing and puffing, etc. I may go one more time to see if they can do some actual therapy instead of putting me through a battery of tests to see what hurts. Let me make this easy for you. Everything.

That leaves me with an upcoming haircut. I’ve been loving my new hair and want to keep it up. I know my stylist is fully vaccinated, boosted, masked and careful. Others will be wearing masks as well, and I’m thinking I could probably get in and out pretty fast.

Fucking COVID. While I did have some drama in my childhood and beyond, with the help of professional counseling, I worked through most of those issues the first time I had cancer. I’ve had a few other ah-ha moments of late, and I am grateful for that bit of introspection, but I think this stress is related to the pandemic.

I know I have it easy compared to many, and I am beyond grateful for all my good fortune. Like everyone else, I miss my old life, but I have this sense something has fundamentally changed, and there’s no going back.

Anyway, this is as long as I’ve been able to sit in quite some time, so maybe I am getting better. I did express anger, didn’t I? Still can’t quite summon the rage. There’s plenty of that going around. Honestly, I don’t think rage needs me. Maybe I can get away with just being a little pissed off.

Managing chronic pain

According to the neurosurgeon, most of my back problems are typical age-related degeneration. I have one disc bulge that is squeezing the spine (if I’m even saying that correctly). Basically, the result is spinal stenosis. He said that’s why I have pain in my lower buttocks. Hey, but ask Dale. He already knew I was a pain in the ass.

The neurosurgeon said I was way better off than most people with this degree of stenosis. He attributed my good fortune to physical fitness and encouraged me to keep doing whatever I’m doing. I was happy to hear I can still walk, swim and play golf, and even happier to hear him say it’s unlikely I’d ever need surgery. That’s good, because after multiple cancer surgeries, I have already fulfilled my surgical obligations.

In the meantime, I’ve been working on the mind-body connection. I started with Healing Back Pain by John Sarno. He believed repressed emotions cause most chronic pain, but other than understanding that concept and accepting it, he didn’t offer much in the way of advice.

Dr. Sarno was seen as a bit of a quack in his day, but there’s new research that vindicates him. It seems lots of medical professionals now believe chronic pain starts and ends in the brain – you just have to work a bit at reprogramming your physical responses to emotions such as anger, fear, shame and guilt.

After reading some of the newer articles like this one, I signed up for a program at Curable. There are all sorts of brain exercises and training modules to help navigate through chronic pain. Within a couple of weeks, I was virtually pain-free.

Then out of the blue, it cranked up again. There’s an emergency section of the app for when you have a flare-up, and it walks you through some ideas to help get you back on track. I thought I had dealt with all my emotional baggage and couldn’t imagine what was left.

After doing the module this morning, I’ve discovered a few more unresolved issues. Nothing big – she says – just the granddaddy of them all. Who am I? Why am I here? How much time to I have on this Earth, and what should I do with it?

I never really thought about those sorts of things when I was busy earning a living. It was just grind, grind, grind, and in retrospect, there’s something to be said for that mode of existence. In retirement, I have the pleasure of waking up in the middle of the night to engage in existential discussions with myself. But at least I can sleep in.

As long as I’m moving, I’m fine. Sitting is the worst. What else do I do when I sit? Why, write, of course. Since I haven’t written anything in a couple of weeks, I’m wondering if there’s a connection.

As I try to get rid of this butt ache, which is really, I think, an aching for knowledge, wisdom, value or purpose, choose one or all of the above, it would seem I have some work to do. I’ve decided that’s OK.

I try not to think of life as a game to win or lose. Things seem to work better for me when I forget about being MVP and just show up for practice.

P.S. If you’re looking for some great reading featuring a strong (and I mean badass) female protagonist, I highly recommend the Jane Whitefield series by Thomas Perry. Jane is a Native American who helps people disappear when bad guys are after them. Vanishing Act is first in the series. And joy of joys, there are nine of them!

The haircut I didn’t want

Yes, a haircut. I wanted long wild goddess hair. I swore I would never get the classic middle-age bob, but at 66, I’m beyond middle age, so I’m going in. Now I have what I hope is a stylish version of the haircut I didn’t want, and I love it!

I have such fine hair to begin with, and it is thinning as I get older. I think this cut makes the most of what I have. Sometimes you just have to accept reality.

With this cut, I gave up the tail. Meaning ponytail. I will not miss it. I was wearing my hair up most of the time because it looked so scraggly, and I won’t miss that, either. I will add a little care and maintenance.

I told my stylist I’m willing to spend 10 minutes a day on it, and I’m OK using a blow dryer. But I only want to use my head as a tool for shaping – no curling or smoothing tools, just blowing it back and forth and a little bit of a round brush to get the right look. I shocked my stylist when I said I would accept a haircut that required trimming every six weeks. She’s used to seeing me once or twice a year.

I got it cut yesterday and was stunned to wake up with great second-day hair. So, maybe 10 minutes every other day?

Now that I’m getting Social Security, I feel a little more generous with my spending. I mean, I didn’t really need those checks to get my hair done regularly, but something in me embraced the idea of a minimalist retiree who never goes to a salon. But I’m over that.

When she finished, I said, “Yeah, that looks like a woman ready to burn through her Social Security.”

It’s not really about the Social Security, although I do like to joke about it. Actually, I’ve been so sick of all the miserable news in the world, and the new kitchen lifted my spirits beyond anything I ever expected.  

Except for golf, I’ve been holed up for two years, and even if it’s another two years thanks to the Ohmygod variant, I decided it’s time to make more of an effort. In some form or fashion, I aim to rejoin the land of the living.

I even pushed back my cuticles and buffed my nails. Filled in the bald patches on my eyebrows. And got dressed in real clothes just to hang around the house.

Living large.

Kitchen before and after

Before
After

The kitchen and downstairs flooring project is finished and looks great. We are exceedingly happy with the results, but the process wore us out.  

I confess to having insecurities about our design choices. I know someone somewhere will say, “Whatever were they thinking when they did that?” I can actually hear the voice of my late mother-in-law as I type those words.

But at the end of the day, we like it a lot. The choices suit our aesthetic and our cooking habits. We hope to ride out eternity in this house, and at least we’ll finish up with a nice kitchen.

A few features:

  • All the drawers and doors are “soft close.” I love that!
  • Most of the lower cabinets were converted to drawers.
  • The old island could not be used as a counter, mostly because there was no room for knees. This is a new island, and we can now use it as a counter. It’s nice to sit there and talk to the chef.

We kept all our appliances, which we installed when we moved here about four years ago. Sure, the big commercial-style cooktop would have been nice, but that would have seriously jacked up the price of this project. We’re happy with what we have.

Contractors completed final details late in the afternoon on the day before Thanksgiving. Both of us were kind of stressed, and it’s my contention that’s what led to some minor cooking failures.

My new Emile Henry pie pan recommended by Nanci performed admirably, but my crust wasn’t short enough, too much water, I think, and the filling was a bit off. But I love that pan – no soggy bottom as Mary Berry would say.

Dale was supposed to cook the turkey in two stages – first, breast side down at a higher temperature, then breast side up at a lower temp. He accidentally reversed it, and when he changed the temp, he forgot to hit start, so the oven was turned off until he realized what happened. It’s delicious but overdone.

Leftovers will be recipes that put moisture back in. I love Jane Brody’s turkey carcass soup, which I make every year. We enjoy it with blue corn muffins on the side.

Now that we’re calming down, we’re starting to get our cooking mojo back. Dale made whole wheat bread for turkey sandwiches. The recipe made two loaves, so he gave one to the neighbors. Lucky them!

I made granola this morning and am making bison tacos tonight. We like to keep a stash of them in the freezer, and we depleted our supply during the remodeling. Tomorrow I’m making plum pudding, which will be our Christmas dessert. The steamed pudding gets better as it rests.

The recipe I use is from an ancient Parade magazine. I serve it warm with a simple hard sauce – basically whipped butter and powdered sugar. Jack Daniels is my whiskey of choice for both the pudding and the sauce.

My golf game tanked during the remodeling project. I played golf twice in five weeks, and for me, that’s a recipe for disaster. I have no natural talent – it’s all practice and play.

Now it’s time to get back to being retired. This week’s priority is golf!

About that 401K …

Our kitchen remodeling project is behind schedule, but they finish up today, so everything should be good to go for Thanksgiving. We have missed cooking so much and can’t wait to crank it up again.

Of course, we’re going to have a nicer kitchen, but being miserable for close to five weeks motivated us to get serious about having fun. We are out of practice.

Dale and I don’t have a big urge to travel, especially long trips by air, and COVID did nothing to change our minds. Still, we’re feeling confident we can scoot around California with moderate risk. There are so many beautiful places to see here, and we’ve done a whole lot of nothing for two years.

As it is with kitchens and travel, everything costs money. I’ll start collecting Social Security in December, and that should help fund some adventures. Additionally, we’re starting to talk about monthly withdrawals from what used to be my 401K but is now an IRA.

Although I was good at building a solid 401K, I’m less skilled when I think about draining it. I have found it difficult to make the mental switch from saving to spending. However, I may be ready. Not too many people in my family die of old age, so I’d like to enjoy what’s there.

We talked with Bob, our financial planner, and he encouraged us to get started … operating under the theory you can’t take it with you. Bob suggested we go with 4-5 percent. Ideally, your returns match or outpace withdrawals, so you don’t touch your principal. But with this market, who knows?

As a childless couple, we do want to spend our principal … just not all at once. I like the idea of “die broke.” However, I would like to avoid being alive and broke. But if that’s how it goes down, hell, yes, I would take it.

My car is 11 years old and in good shape, but I see a new one on the horizon. So, it will be good to start socking away cash for that purchase. I’m hoping my car goes another couple of years so I can see how the electric market shakes out. I’d like to go electric or plug-in hybrid. Any recommendations?

The biggest hurdle is getting over a bad case of COVID caution. Breakthrough infections notwithstanding, we’re both fully vaccinated and boosted and will most likely be just fine. We can’t live in fear forever.