Offline and loving it?

Some of you may have noticed my blog was offline for several days. I was experiencing technical difficulties, and while the site was down, I decided to go with it. Just cut the cord and move on.

With my new-found freedom, I made an effort to be more sociable. Livin’ in the real world! I stayed after golf to chat with the other women and made noticeable progress in the category of interpersonal communication. Yeah, that was me, talking it up with the ladies.

For example, one woman was raving about a taco place, and I did not mention that I had just read a county health report on the restaurant, a report that included dead rats, insects and creature poop. No one needs taco trauma.

Another woman said she loved breakfast cereal and often ate it for dinner. Did I alert her to acrylamides or ultraprocessed foods or the fact that I haven’t eaten breakfast cereal in something like 15 years? Oh, no, I did not. Let’s talk breakfast cereal! It’s grrrrrrreat!

Then I tried to talk with my husband about volunteering and the things that are holding me back. You know, the stuff we talk about here.

I said office work might be too confining, but outdoor opportunities might be too much. I recalled my efforts to pick up litter in the neighborhood, and squeezing the trash picker upper messed up my wrists.

He said, oh, yes, I remember that, another one of your fads. That was what we call unwelcome feedback.

Dale’s fine, thanks for asking. It was probably the pizza coming out of the oven that saved him. Time stops for pizza, so he got a pass on that one. I did manage to say that at least I try things. He agreed to call them experiments in the future.

So much for real life. Let’s get back to experiments. That’s what this blog is. An experiment with writing, sharing stories. Experiencing retirement. Connecting with an online community.

Thank you for being part of the journey. As I putzed around while the site was down, I realized this community is small but mighty. We’re not changing the world, but what we do here means something. And it means I didn’t exit the way I had hoped.

While I have boatloads of faults, one of my positive characteristics as a human is that I always try to do the right thing. Leaving everyone hanging did not feel right. After much deliberation and a small fee I chalked up to a relatively inexpensive life lesson, I was able to get the site restored.

Now that it’s up and running, I’ve sort of talked myself into continuing (I never said I was normal). The only downside is self-doubt. The effort to overcome self-doubt is probably worth the price of admission.

My account expires in November, so I’ve got until then to get my shit together. If I decide to quit, I promise to let you know in advance. None of this sneaky snake stuff.

In the meantime, I urge you to subscribe to BoomSpeak, a great online journal where aging writers (including me) share their thoughts and stories. With any luck, that’s where I’ll be if you can’t find me here.

More rambling than usual

While I am exceedingly grateful I survived cancer twice, the experience has turned me into a bit of a hypochondriac. I always assume the worst. I bet you cancer survivors out there know exactly what I mean.

For example, I was at the optometrist this week. There was some sort of anomaly in one of the screening tests, and the assistant said the doctor would decide what to do next. Then she dumped me in a room to wait for the doctor.

It seemed to be taking forever, so I sat there and let my imagination run wild. I assumed they were out there trying to figure out how to tell me I’m going blind. I thought, well, I probably have a few good years. I’ll make the most of it.

The doctor finally appeared and said everything was consistent with all my previous exams. And then it was all which is better, this one or this one?

So silly of me, I know, but also such a sigh of relief. I almost danced my way out of there.

I’m contemplating volunteer options. I started with a list of considerations, because most of the goodness in the universe starts with a solid list. I have dozens of half-filled journals hanging around, and I’m using one of those to document my observations, but I might go crazy and buy a new one. Nothing like a fresh journal to get the juices flowing! Well, maybe a new pen?

Here are the categories so far:

  • Skills/Talents
  • Casual Interests
  • Passionate Interests
  • Groups I Identify With
  • Groups I Prefer to Avoid
  • Activity Level
  • Time Commitment

Although I’m just getting started, I’ve already realized a few things. I do not want to work with children. Nor hospice. I get fired up about current events and am open to volunteering for a political organization, but I need to think that through carefully. Even though I’m a proud Democrat, I’m not sure I want to spend my volunteer time drinking the Kool-Aid with other Democrats. Maybe something nonpartisan, like the League of Women Voters.

At first I thought I’d prefer an office setting. The county website says they sometimes need volunteers for senior legal aid. Doing office work for the lawyers and such. Seemed like a good fit at first, but then I remembered jury duty and how hard it was on my body to sit all day. Even when I write at home, I have to get up a lot and do other things to keep my joints and muscles from rebelling.

Finally, there’s writing, which is a strength and something I do anyway. Is there a way to make that more service-oriented? To experiment, I’m following up on a current theme that is driving me nuts. Trump has stepped in it again with regard to his comments and interactions with military veterans. I’m a veteran, and my husband is retired military.

I feel a calling to help educate voters – you know, eyes wide open. Even if they choose to support him, they’ll know what they’ve signed up for.

However, I haven’t found a concise summary of all the things (and there are many) he has said and done to disparage the military over the years. And what I have found often cherry-picks the most current mess.

When I was on jury duty, both the prosecution and the defense did the same thing with evidence. The information as presented was hard to digest and didn’t seem to tell the whole story. When we went into deliberation, we struggled to make sense of it all and put a lot of effort into making a timeline before we could arrive at a verdict.

We needed to see it in chronological order, and that’s what I’m working on with regard to Trump. I want to see how his comments about veterans unfold over time. I’d like it to be a one-pager that someone could share with a friend or family member who may not realize the broad scope of Trump’s years-long disrespect for the military.

On the entertainment front, I haven’t been reading as much, but there are some great shows streaming. The new season of Hotel Portofino is out on PBS Masterpiece. The show is about an English woman running a hotel on the coast of Italy in the 20s and 30s. Fascism is on the rise, and her family drama makes everything harder than it has to be. PBS is stingy with the once-a-week drop, but that seems to be popular these days.

On Hulu, I’m enjoying Only Murders in the Building with Steve Martin, Martin Short and Selena Gomez. Steve plays a TV has-been, Martin is a semi-washed up Broadway director and Selena is young and wondering what the hell to do with her life. They get together to start a true crime podcast after someone in their building is murdered.

The first episode of the fourth season dropped this week. The show is silly but in a good way. Lots of famous people have small roles, and it’s fun to see who shows up.  Tina Fey, Meryl Steep, Jane Lynch, Mel Brooks, Sting …

Another great show that recently aired on Netflix is Discovery of Witches. I’ve seen it before and vowed I would not watch it again, but here I am on season two. I’ve also read the trilogy! It’s so good, and I’m catching things I missed the first time around.

The story is about vampires, witches and demons, who live by a covenant that says they can’t intermingle. Their powers are fading in the modern age, and a youngish witch seems to be the key to discovering their origins and how they will survive in the future. Oh, and she falls in love with a vampire.

Well, this is longer than my usual post, but that’s why it’s called Rambling Thursday. 

On making a small difference

Now that I’ve had a little time to decompress after serving on jury duty for a month, I’ve decided that if called, I would do it again. While I did not find the experience particularly enjoyable, I believe answering the call if you are able is an important civic responsibility.

I was inspired by the book On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century by Timothy Snyder. He warned we should defend institutions such as courts and laws because when they fall, autocrats rise.

The book is a quick read, but it’s not light. So, yes, heavy stuff, but we now live in a country where some people – with the blessings of the candidate himself – will not say whether they’ll accept the outcome of a free and fair election. Think of this book as a manual for resisting modern-day authoritarianism.

The author encourages all of us to become active in organizations, political or not, that support a civil society and help others to do good. While I donate money to various causes, I’ve mostly been all about enjoying the simple pleasures of retirement. The book made me realize it may also be time to step up and participate in something that matters.

I haven’t decided on what participation looks like for me, but I am definitely in the seeking mode. That would be as opposed to the slouching mode, which is where I’ve pretty much been for the past umpty ump years. I keep thinking – even though I enjoy my life, it could be I haven’t yet discovered why I’m even on this dang planet.

Have you wondered if there’s something new and meaningful out there for you? Something that hasn’t even occurred to you yet?

I’ve certainly wondered before, you know, am I using my time wisely? Am I being selfish? Indulgent? But I mostly turn off the volume and go back to my happy place.

This time I feel different. Ready. Like maybe I can still enjoy the chill retirement life I’ve cultivated and also use what’s left of my skills and talents to make a small difference.

I’m guessing some of you might be pondering the same issues. I’d love to hear your thoughts. And of course, as your official retirement confidant, I’ll be sure to report back on my journey … the continuing saga we call life after work.

The pleasures of being ordinary

Is it me, or is there a hint of joy in the air? Call me crazy, but it’s kind of fun not to be so pessimistic about the election. And it’s always a bonus when ignorant sound bites turn into humorous t-shirts.

I mentioned I’ve been out and about more than usual. The big reveal is that I was on jury duty for the better part of a month. We finished our deliberations yesterday, and I am free again. They said we can now talk about the case, but I’m done. I’ll just say it was a criminal case featuring child pornography, kinky sex and other details I’d prefer to forget.

Aside from the case itself, hanging around the courthouse is no picnic. We had a lot of downtime waiting for things to get going, and the slice of life that paraded past was grim at best. One woman in a cute orange outfit and chains saw us piling into the jury room and yelled, “You’re all going to hell!”

The whole experience made me appreciate the pleasures of being ordinary. And grateful for my privileged and drama-free retirement. When’s my tee time? What’s for dinner? No interactions with the police so far. My sex life may be boring, but I’m grateful 12 jurors, three alternates and a gallery full of spectators will never have to hear about it.

So, after a brief pause to admire my life choices, I return to the bubble. I’ve sort of kept up with my strengthening exercises, but it has been hit or miss, and I’m happy to get back to my mindless routine. I went to the driving range and hit some balls. Swimming tomorrow. Pizza. Maybe a movie.

Just ordinary stuff.

Just another childless cat lady

It has been a few weeks since I’ve written, and I don’t have any excuses. You know, just another childless cat lady, making poor choices, doing what we do.

In spite of my shortcomings as a fertility goddess, things are remarkably good. Although I think Joe Biden is an excellent president, I believe he did the right thing by dropping out of the race. For the first time in months, I’m optimistic.

Is anyone else feeling it?

Kamala is bringing new energy to the election, and she  has my full support, even if it turns out she likes dogs better.

I had my annual oncology appointment, and while I’m not afraid like I used to be, it always feels great to walk out of there with a clean bill of health. It has been 25 years since my first cancer (ovarian) and nine years since the second (breast).

This time they asked me to see the nurse practitioner instead of the doctor, and although it felt like getting demoted, I understand the doctor has to prioritize. I don’t have active cancer, and I’m sure she’s got a boatload of people who do. I asked the nurse practitioner if I even need come anymore, and she said yes, mostly because I’m BRCA-positive. Lots can go wrong on the genetic front.  

Sadly, I am due for a colonoscopy, but my primary care physician will make that referral when I see her for my annual physical in August.  I’ve heard there are some new and better ways to do the prep, but I don’t believe any of that applies to me, since I am at higher risk.

I have been out and about more than usual for reasons I’ll go into later. And much to my surprise, wearing something besides golf or workout clothes has been rather enjoyable. I haven’t cared about fashion in years, but I’ve made an effort to look put together, and it makes me feel a little more with it, if you know what I mean. I still don’t want a job, but I’ve been thinking about other activities that might give me a sense of purpose.

The shoes I wore to work have all been purged. I still have some boots left, but everything else is Hoka or Birkenstock, so I’ve been wearing my “dress Hokas.” They look nice with my favorite pants, a tee and a denim jacket. I’m calling it retirement chic. It’s still hot outside, but I need the jacket for air conditioning, which always freezes me out.

I’ve even been blow drying my hair (since it’s not stuffed under a golf hat) and have had a lot of compliments on the cut and color – my natural silver. I’m so glad I gave up the dye.

So, I sort of like having somewhere to go besides the golf course, but I assume that could get old fast. But we shall see. In the meantime, I need to go brush the cat.

Happy 4th of July

Well, July came screaming in like a mofo. The election, the Supremes, extreme heat, power outages and Bones reruns no longer on Freevee. Even the episodes I’ve already watched. Gone as of July 1 unless you pay. I’m starting to believe in conspiracy theories.

When the going gets tough, it’s time to finally buy a Vitamix and hunker down with smoothies. Mine arrives today. Just in time to save me from myself.

Dale, who is also in a funk, is thinking about an immersion circulator – sous vide. He hates the stress of getting a steak exactly the way we like it on the grill, and this method takes a lot of the guesswork out.  

Such bougie little solutions to world-class problems, but there you have it. To quote the Pet Shop Boys, happiness is an option. I can honestly say I stayed happy throughout my cancer treatment 25 years ago. I chose to be happy then, and I choose to be happy now.

Maybe it’s the heat, but I had a craving for watermelon. I’m usually disappointed in melons, so I rarely buy them. And then they’re so big. But Safeway had a smaller chunk of one cut and wrapped, and it looked really ripe. That was my breakfast this morning, and it was delicious.  

Dale is a recovered fireworks junkie. He loves all things that go boom. His dream is to be adopted by that family that implodes buildings. But he backed away after we got cats, and fireworks freaked them out. Fireworks are illegal in our county, but that never stopped him in the past. The stories I could tell. But I won’t. Not sure about the statute of limitations.

OK, sure, since you asked nicely. This one shouldn’t get him in trouble. We were living in Alabama, Huntsville to be exact, and he had a stockpile of the biggest baddest fireworks available on the open market. Maybe the black market, too. I’m still not sure.

It wasn’t even dark when he started firing off pyrotechnics in the front yard, and that escalated as the evening wore on when he and two brothers down the street we called The Darryls started trying to outdo each other. Beer was involved. The street looked like a war zone.

The police came, and as I recall, Dale stuffed wads of fireworks down his pants and politely told the cops he didn’t have any. Just enjoying the holiday with his family. In the front yard with piles of smoky debris and empty beer cans.

I think the policeman said something like, sure, buddy, but it’s over now, got it? And Dale said something he apparently rehearsed many times over, “Yes, officer.”

I’m not sure what happened to The Darryls, they’re probably still in jail, but the festivities came to a screeching halt. It wasn’t the first time we had to clean up the street in the morning, but it was the last.

We have no special celebration plans, but we will eat well and won’t be blowing things up.

For dinner, Dale is grilling what we call Hunk-O-Lamb. I’m making tabbouleh, which is a bulgar wheat salad mixed with spring onion, tomatoes, mint and parsley and then tossed with an olive oil and lemon juice vinegarette seasoned with some dried herbs. Oh, and fresh corn on the cob. Perhaps a Zinfandel.

It will be hot, but we still might eat outside. Once you get all that food in you and your body is heated up, it’s nice to cool off in the pool before bed. It’s all part of the live well no matter what strategy.

Happy 4th of July. Or happy Thursday if you’re not from these parts.

The sound of silence

Although I did not watch the debate, I read about it this morning. Trump’s lies and Biden’s lackluster performance did not make me regret my decision. It doesn’t look good for Biden, but I’m still hopeful the American people will not see fit to put a monster like Trump back in office.

I know some very kind and intelligent people who are Trump supporters. Once we learned where everyone stands, we quit talking about it to preserve the peace. At first blush, silence sounds like a poor solution, but you know, it’s not all bad.

When we were younger and actually had friends, we seldom discussed politics. We were more into partying back then, and most get-togethers focused on food, drink, music, travel and sports. I can’t remember even thinking about how someone might have voted. Seems kind of quaint now.

That’s the brighter side of being a party animal. Now we’re crusty old homebodies with deep dark thoughts about the future of democracy. Not sure that’s an improvement, but it’s easier on the liver.

Anyway, life is good beyond worrying about things I can’t control. My exercises have gotten quite robust, and I’ve split them up so on any given day I’m only doing half of them. Most body parts are cooperating with the new regime, but my left knee is part of the resistance. Some of my newer exercises strengthen the quadricep, and that will theoretically help the knee.

Because the knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone …

All of it has improved my golf game, and it has been fun to play well. Our four-woman team kicked butt in the Hawaiian-themed event. It was almost surreal. We all showed up in our matching outfits but forgot to take a picture! I said, well, it’s hard to be good and cute. One of the women, a younger golfer who has a great game and a bit of swagger said, actually, it’s not.

Loved that! If I ever had swagger, I think I lost it sometime in the 90s.

July is looking to be a hot one .. a good time to tune out political rants, savor the sound of silence and hunker down with a good book. I loved Clete, the new James Lee Burke novel featuring Dave Robicheaux, although this one is told through the voice of his sidekick, Clete. Hence the name. I’ve read all the books in the series, and this is one of my favorites.

I’m currently reading A Walk in the Park: The True Story of a Spectacular Misadventure in the Grand Canyon by Kevin Fedarko. It’s a grand adventure story, hilarious and chock-full of interesting information about the Grand Canyon. The author also wrote The Emerald Mile, which is thoroughly entertaining account of a speed run down the Colorado River in a dory boat. That book also has a great historical perspective.

Next up is Randy Wayne White’s One Deadly Eye featuring marine biologist and ex-NSA agent Doc Ford of Sanibel Island. I’ve read all in the series, and they are always a treat.  

Happy reading!

Good retirement problems

I haven’t been to the mall in years, but I needed either white shorts or a white skort for a golf thing where teams like to wear matching outfits. The things I do to be sociable.

It’s a Hawaiian theme, and my sister said you aren’t going to wear a plastic lei are you? I said, oh, yes I am. She howled and wants a picture. Fat chance that.

The mall was a complete waste of time. Call me crazy, but I would think this is the peak of white shorts season. They were nowhere to be found. A couple of white skorts were on display, but they looked short enough to display your hoo-hah.

Home I came for a meeting with Dr. Amazon. I guess we brought this on ourselves, but it seems you really do have to go online for anything. I bought four skorts in different styles and sizes. All on Prime, so I was thinking I could send back the ones I don’t want or all of them if need be.

Panic shopping this week is not my idea of fun. Still, I know this is not a bad problem in the hierarchy of problems.

Good news … one of the skorts arrived this morning, and it fits!!! And it’s a little longer, so no hoo-hah action. The event is Wednesday, and I’m relieved that monkey is off my back. The others arrive tomorrow, so we’ll see if I like any of them better.

Our club is hosting this event, so it’s a big deal, and we all have jobs (in addition to playing). One of mine is to sell mulligans at the welcome table. My sister said, you? Handling money? Geez, so I stumbled a bit with geometry, but I can make change. Oh, and build a retirement portfolio, if that counts.

I’m still struggling with time management. I know important worker bees cannot understand how retirees can be busy, but it’s true. We just have different priorities. My priorities are food and fitness, but chores keep messing with my mojo.

We have someone coming next week to do the windows and screens, inside and out, but they don’t do plantation shutters. I decided to bite the bullet and do it myself. Instead of going after it like a maniac, as I might have done in my 30s, I made a list of all the rooms with shutters and am committed to doing one or two rooms a day. Then I check them off the list because it feels good to check things off the list.

My strengthening exercises take about an hour, and I’m whipped when I’m done. I missed some swim time because I just couldn’t muster the energy to go after completing the exercises. What I’ve learned is that I need to do the exercises early so I can have recovery time if I want to play later in the afternoon. On golf days, I just do a few of the core exercises when I get home.

I’ve been neglecting my art, and I miss the creative process, so I need to make time for that. Then there’s food. Yesterday I made a double batch of my favorite juice – celery, apples, black grapes, spinach and lime. I freeze them in 4-ounce bottles. Also, a batch of peanut butter cookies for the freezer. Indulgent, but healthier than store-bought!

Oh, and bread. I’ve been feeding my sourdough starter for a few days, and he’s ready to go. I’ll make the dough later and let it rise overnight. Then it does a second rise tomorrow morning in the banneton. I suspect it will go in the oven around 10.  

The question is what to have with it. Good bread will not go to waste at our house, but I like to pair a fresh loaf with something special. We have some fabulous beef stew in the freezer, but it doesn’t really feel like beef stew season. Although our air conditioning always feels like Ice Station Zebra to me, so stew could work.

BLTs with farmers market tomatoes would be yum, but I don’t think they’re ready yet. Minestrone or some other kind of veggie soup would be good. See? This stuff takes time.

Not that I’m complaining. I feel fortunate to be alive and able to enjoy the simple pleasures of retirement. It took me a long time to figure out how to manage my work life, so I guess it’s no surprise it takes a few years to manage life after work. All in all, not a bad problem to have.

Uncoupling for a few days

After my big spiel about staying safe in the heat, it got beastly hot, and I played a rough 18 holes of golf. I got away with it, mostly because I used all my gear, including a solar umbrella, a battery-operated fan, a spray bottle of water, a cool towel and tons of fluids. That said, I felt weak and dizzy, and I should have stopped. 

I spent the next day resting and guzzling more fluids, and I felt OK after that. I vowed to be more careful going forward. Theoretically, I should be getting smarter about this stuff.

Shortly after, I went to Santa Cruz for a few days of golf with the girls. Quite the opposite weather on the coast. Dag, it was cold! But I was prepared. My knit cap and windbreaker were coveted by many. I did my best to keep up with my exercises but some require resistance bands and weights, and that just seemed like a bridge too far.

We played golf three days in a row, which is unusual for me. I wasn’t sure how my body would hold up, but I didn’t experience any pain at all and am pretty happy about that. I do think the strengthening exercises are helping in lots of different ways.

I’ve never been a big fan of cherries, but one of the women brought a bag for the trip, and they were delicious. I bought more at the farmers market today and made a smoothie with almond milk, cherries and almond butter. Yum. The tomatoes aren’t ready yet, but we can’t wait. That’s a whole season’s worth of happiness.

On the reading front, I highly recommend Sipsworth by Simon Van Booy. It’s a short novel about a lonely old woman who befriends a mouse. Just a great little story that will leave you feeling good.

The mouse in the book is very sweet, and he inspired me to have a talk with our cat about his demeanor. Riley was a rescue, but he’s been with us for, gosh, I don’t know, eight years? He still acts like we’re trying to kill him.

I asked Riley to be a little more loving. He won’t get on the bed to say hi, but I guess that’s not all bad. He’ll get in Dale’s lap once in a blue moon but not mine ever. He’s longhaired, and I groom him, and he doesn’t make a fuss. All in all, Riley is a good boy, and he’ll let me pick him up and smooch him. Uses his box. Doesn’t scratch stuff. Pukes now and again, but who doesn’t?

The book also made me think about vegetarianism. If you have an animal companion and wouldn’t think of eating him, why is your little friend more special than other animals you gladly consume?  I enjoy meat, but I could see life without it. However, I wouldn’t give up cheese unless it was a life-or-death situation.

Dale and I frequently throw that out for discussion – which would you rather give up? Meat or cheese? Easy for me. Meat. He’s a cheesehead like me but more of a carnivore and definitely on the fence.

We drive each other crazy much of the time, but Dale is still my favorite person, and he says I’m still his. However, I believe breaks are good for relationships, and we haven’t had many of those since I retired. Togetherness can be too much of a good thing. This time, I was gone four nights, and it was a nice vacation from each other.

As your official retirement confidant, I would definitely recommend retired couples periodically schedule solo trips.

I had a great time in Santa Cruz, but I’m glad to be home hanging out with Dale. It might be my imagination, but I think Riley is happy the family is back together again. Maybe that little talk we had did some good.

Nothing a little therapy wouldn’t help

In the category of strange but true, I won a golf tournament! Previously, I’ve placed in my flight and stuff like that, but this is the first time I’ve finished first overall. The prize was $40 and bragging rights.

Regular blog readers will know competition is my nemesis. I usually have this sense of being judged and struggle with confidence, especially after a poor shot. It’s like, oh, yeah, I knew it all along. You suck. At everything. You’re not worthy.

Nothing a little therapy wouldn’t help, but I believe retirement has helped me overcome my fears. With no job status to bolster my self-esteem, I’m learning that being a decent human being and living a good life is plenty. I’m more comfortable with myself and with the ups and downs of the game. I even said to Dale the night before the final round, you know, I’m not scared. I’m just going to play the best I can and enjoy the challenge of trying to make that ball do what I want.

For me, that’s progress.

I’ve always said my brain is the weakest part of my game, so I definitely think the change in mindset helped me play better. I’m also giving credit to the physical therapy regime aimed at strengthening my core. I’m guessing you are all sick of hearing about that, but seriously, this is a big deal for us aging Boomers.

Although I’ve exercised regularly for many years, I never paid attention to the core. Cancer and two major abdominal surgeries didn’t help. But I’m 10 weeks into working with a PT, who gave me a series of exercises to do at home, and it’s life-changing.

Not only is my lower back and knee pain pretty much gone, but I feel more stable even when I just move around the house. I’m definitely stronger in the water when I swim, and now I’m seeing results on the golf course. I’m not sure how it all works, but I guess a stronger core increases stability, and that translates to more power in the swing.  

I get it – not everyone is a golfer, but I’m starting to believe a stronger core is the secret to any kind of an active life as we age. The exercises are tough but worth it. I’m 68 and think of this work as an investment for my 70s and 80s.

All this learning did not prepare me for the photo opp. Granted, this was after 18 holes of golf, but a blow dry in the morning with a little product would have fixed that frizzy hair. It seems I will have to make more of an effort in the future.

You never know when you’ll win something.