I am closing in on my seventh month of retirement. The time has flown by in a whirr of activity. I feel as accomplished in retirement as when working—but without spending endless energy worrying about whether or not my actions of yesterday will adversely impact thousands of good citizens of California tomorrow simply because I used the word “must” instead of “may” or vice versa. Rather, I spend endless energy feeding my soul.
We’re attending dog training with Milo. While he doesn’t yet respond immediately to “Here, Milo,” he’s moving in that direction. He will “sit” and “down” and stand on two legs, doing a 360 for a treat. We’re overly permissive doggie owners, which means that the training is not as life-changing as I had expected. The end of the lessons nears without quite as much progress as I had expected.
He’s quite the fetcher, though. Loves those balls. And the red Frisbees (We’re on, like, number six. Fortunately, they only cost 99 cents.) have been chewed into oblivion. He’s so bad we have to take them away so he doesn’t ingest red plastic pieces in the process. Phil says that he appears to have gone feral when he has that damned thing in his mouth.
My friend and I are close to finishing our mystery novel. And now I am wading through the bog of publishing options. What to do? How to do it? Where to start? The writing almost seemed easier than figuring where we go with it once it’s done. Can that be? I’m reaching out to friends who might help me in my hour of confusion.
Today I received a replacement bowl for my 40-year-old Cuisinart. For those of you who do not fit into the category of “baby boomer,” a “Cuisinart” used to mean food processor and nothing else. Now it means all sorts of other products—knives, pots and pans, other kitchen utensils. For about 20 years, the old bowl has been held together with duct tape. Always hand washed—always by me, the bowl was used only to make pesto. Nothing else. I figured that everything else could be made without the help of a food processor. But now that I have a new bowl, I have even unearthed the other attachments that can be used for the complement of other “knifely” things. Covered with dust, they will be given new life—like a Phoenix rising from the earth.