My first birthday as a retiree. I’m laying in bed reflecting on the years leading up to this moment. Did I mention it was almost 10 am and I’m in a bedroom overlooking a sun drenched private pool? I feel so fortunate for so many things.

A husband who went out of his way to find a mushy card and a dozen beautiful roses. Then took me out for a delicious dinner complete with stone crabs. On the scale a 10. Perfect.

Parents who chirped into the phone how 55 years ago they sat in front of the fireplace with their first new baby and marvelled at parenthood. And who never let up in that live and commitment for the entire 55 years. Precious.

Siblings who make me laugh out loud at their comedic banter about everything from football to aphrodisiacs. And my sister who, in spite of a whirlwind travel-laden career takes the time to ship a beautiful candle (which we enjoy nightly) that will warm our evenings for years to come.

Bestie who expressed such heartwarming sentiments in a card and then presented me with a Fitbit. No pressure. Perhaps the mission assignment I’ve been waiting for.

Family members near and far who extended well wishes electronically and by phone.

Friends who took the time to write a note or call. Literally over 100!

And my first day as a 55 year old I contemplate the term “freedom 55”. It’s a goal that financial advisors wave seductively under your nose as they pry your savings from your grip. In our case the “savings” were in the form of a home and we were able to sell during a market upswing. We always agreed as a couple that regardless of the outcomes we could manage with whatever budget we had to work with. That’s the beauty of having a numbers guy as your partner for life.

But the freedom part, in my mind, isn’t all about the finances. It’s having time, health, love and opportunity. It’s our first winter away from Canadian winter. The possibilities are endless. It’s time to take my new Fitbit and hit the road with my dog. Who knows where it might lead.

I truly am blessed. I truly am grateful.

Seems like when you have more time on your hands (ie being retired) that, at least in my case, your routine goes by the wayside. In my working life it was a standard routine of get up with the alarm (early), shower, get breakfast for Rudy and the dog(s), walk the dog, tidy up and get on the road – sometimes these steps were inverted slightly, but in general that was the morning routine. During the day it was work. A fire here and there to put out. Bureaucratic items. And then the commute home. Usually 2 to 3 hours per day in the car. Finally home- walk the dog. A quick dinner prepared and then perhaps a bit of reading or tv or a fitness class depending on the night with some laundry in between.

Flash forward to now. All of the above goes out the window. Starting with no alarm. Getting up when your eyes open. And letting the day flow from there. But there comes the odd challenge with the new lifestyle. Here’s what I’m finding out about myself (some a renewed knowledge and others an epiphany).

1. I’m not a morning person. When I wake (regardless of time) I need quiet space to think about getting out of bed and what my day will look like. Don’t take it personal if I grunt or ignore you. I just don’t spring out of bed easily. If you check with my sister she will confirm that this is nothing new.

2. I’m addicted to coffee. If the new non-routine precludes a morning coffee there’s a pounding headache in my future. Usually starting around 2 pm I can feel a sinus-like pounding around the eyes and forehead. Mostly I figure out the issue and ingest caffeine. Sometimes I think I’m under hydrated and overdue water intake. The result is a severe headache with the urge to pee. And that undermines my sleep.

3. I can’t eat late at night. Late for me is after 7 pm. Unless it’s a salty snack to go with a glass (or two …) I can’t digest properly and that undermines my sleep. I would say the worst is meat protein but anything more than a few bites is deadly.

4. I shouldn’t leave the house without a full bathroom visit. Without going into huge details, I avoid toilets other than my own. Therefore if I don’t do my business in the morning and leave the house, the result is very disconcerting until I get back home. Many a great day could be squandered as I can only focus on getting back home to a familiar toilet.

5. I’m not patient. The list of things that tries my patience is quite long. Among the top are stupidity and indecision. And poor cell service.

6. Bathing is an elixir. If I need quiet space I hop in the bathtub. I’ve always enjoyed a bath but retirement changes your social habits and sometimes a quiet, relaxing bath is what you need for clarity and refreshment.

7. I really like Pickleball. Who knew that rusty tennis skills would prove useful.

Learning new things is only valuable if you can affect the changes required to enjoy the fruits of knowledge. Knowing things and wilfully challenging them produces results that are obvious. Some say this is the definition of insanity: repeating the same action and expecting new results.

Last night we ventured out on a pub crawl to find the best venues for the upcoming Super Bowl. Stay tuned for which venue makes the cut.

I recently spent the day being childish. Not the usual tantrum thing, but actually being dragged back into a phase that I thought I had long grown out of. I went to Universal Studios theme park in Orlando. It was fabulous being a kid for the day.

It was decided that a day pass was going to be our Christmas present, so Bails, me and my sister in law Marilyn got up early (8am is early these days) and drove the 20 km to the park. We opted for valet parking thinking we’d be bushes by days end. We were right.

The weather was perfect: sunny and just warm enough for shorts (by looking at the locals in their winter coats you’d never know it was mud 60’s). We got our “park to park” passes and we were off. My most recent experience in a theme park was Canada’s Wonderland – this wasn’t even close. Immediately it was clear that this was the ultimate in entertainment. As Bails repeatedly stated: “they didn’t miss a beat”. Perfectly clean and organized and colourful and magical. Perfectly perfect.

Just inside the gates the first attraction is the Shrek ride. A 3D experience based on the hit movies. It didn’t disappoint. Strapped into our seats with our goggles on we became part of the show. The animation and effects can not be suitably put into words. Imagine Shrek winding up for a colossal ogre sneeze and as he lets loose you feel spray on your face. Literally disgusting and exhilarating at the same time. As Shrek and Donkey fly through the air to rescue Fiona you are jostled about in your seat with the distinct feeling you are in the scene. My childish persona was unlocked and the day of adventure begun.

The next ride was Jimmy Fallon in New York. What a thrill. I’ve never been a fan of late night tv so must admit I’ve never seen the show. But it was the set up of having us enter the “studio” as though we were at 30 Rock in the live audience. However the game of the show was to race Jimmy Fallon through NYC. Again, on went the goggles and the seat belts. This 4D spectacle was crazy! I screamed and sweat. It was only the beginning.

On to Kings Cross station in London. We boarded the Hogwarts Express en route to the infamous wizardry school. At platform 9 3/4 we enter the train and it’s better than the movie! I can tell you that I’ve yearned to experience Harry Potter for years; I was engulfed in the books and movies and anything Hogwarts. This was totally epic! We arrive at Hogsmeade and the wintry enchanted village is amazing. We cruise through the shops (including Ollivanders) and end up on the ride at Hogwarts. Leading into the castle we see all of the moving pictures and whimsical features. The ride is a thrilling mash up of everything Harry including the forbidden forest and quidditch. As we were again goggled up the experience was intimately realistic. Voldemort threatens our lives but ultimately we are safe and Harry, Ron and Hermione wave us off. Loved it!

So we continue on to Poseidon and King Kongs Skull Island … all fabulous. But it was The Hulk who swept us off our feet. Literally. The coaster of terror. Luckily the two small kids riding beside us didn’t mind our screams.

We wind up back to Hogsmeade and freshen up with a sip of ButterBeer before jumping on the train back to London. And Gringotts. Wow.

Back at Universal we wrap up with Fear Factor (totally gross .. drinking rancid fish and curdled milk!!) and Transformers. A coffee at Mel’s Diner and a water/light show that’s Mesmerizing. What a day. Almost 20K steps and tons of fun. Thank you Santa (Rudy) and Universal.

That’s all for now kids. Florida… f$&k ya!

PS. Valet parking was a must. Super efficient (that’s for you, Teen)

PSS. The washroom facilities (and the park in general) were super clean and fresh.

I got a good lesson in judgement today. Actually it was a reminder. If we strive to abide by the “Live and let live” philosophy, it’s good to be called out when we slip up.

Tonight I was told “don’t judge me”. My overly analytical brain immediately started to replay the scene. What was said. What was the circumstance. Ultimately I had to admit out loud (and more to myself) that I was being judgey. Sometimes our personal beliefs and values creep into how we perceive others and their actions. Mostly it’s none of our business if others lifestyle and personal choices don’t impact us directly. Turn the other cheek. Keep calm and carry on.

I think I would immediately draw the line if I knew that someone’s personal choice was harmful to others if not myself (child or animal cruelty) but I find it very difficult to keep my opinions to myself regardless if the matter contradicts my code of ethics. Clearly it’s subjective and personal; as varied as each person is unique.

It’s the same in reverse. I don’t care for others infusing their moral codes on me. I’m open to ideas and new experiences, but I’m not drinking the cool aid just because. Today on social media someone posted a radio station contest: of all the people polled, the number one answer for “who would you least like to be knocking on your door ” was POLICE followed closely by Jehovah Witness. Wow. Both enforcing rules and judgement on your lifestyle choices. Interesting.

Walking Molly this morning I met a neighbour. He was washing his car and I noticed that the license plate was Ontario. We got chatting and I asked him where home was for him and his wife. He answered bluntly while pointing as his Chevy crossover, “that’s home”. They sold everything but what they brought in their car and they are travelling the continent. I asked him how he liked it … he said “liberating”. As I walked on I thought about us and our plans.

No judgement. Clemency. You are free to do as you please. God bless America (and Canada).

Sounds a bit like a fortune cookie as I type it out. As it turns out it kind of is.

In a dinner table discussion last night about how great beating the winter down south is, the conversation veered to the philosophical as we debated the human condition.

One point of view was that we can only do the best we can do. There will always be less fortunate among us. I was unsuccessful in making my point that we are all responsible for each other as well as ourselves. As I continued the discussion in my head long after the table cleared and we had moved on (this happens to me a lot … I totally over analyze even trivial stuff). And it occurred to me. The aha moment.

I was trying to illustrate humility and fate.

Yes. We are enjoying our first winter in Florida and I am loving it. I’m also grateful and know that so much fate went into the possibility of me being here.

My parents are immigrants. They came from afar not knowing the language or many people in a strange land. They brought their sense of adventure and moral compass with them. They are honest hard working people who raised and educated their family while instilling strong values over the years. There was one family car and one annual family vacation. We were comfortable. They wanted the best life for their kids and built a solid foundation on the springboard we all jumped from out of the nest.

It was fate that brought me into a family that was so wonderful. Why wasn’t I born into a deplorable situation somewhere? And if I was, would my recollections be the same?

That’s the point I couldn’t make. Having the grace to appreciate our lot in life no matter what that is. Doing unto others that which has made us so grateful and having the humility to know that things could change in a flash. I am eternally grateful to my family (which also includes close friends).

Here are some family wisdoms and stories from our family and others (it explains a lot):

In this house we share. This was the golden rule at home and it has carried on through the years. Sharing is caring as they say on social media- but in our home it meant your snack, a smile, the tv, your dolls and toys, the cheese house and your clothing (grrr). It was a good standard.

My friend said she thought her mom was a native Indian and could predict the rain. In fact, her mom listened to am radio and when it called for showers she pulled the kids away from their activities into the yard to do a rain dance. When the rains came they were mesmerized at their mom’s super powers.

Take what you need when you need it. Wow. My folks did not have a lot of money and they worked hard for what they had. Nonetheless they kept a wallet of money in the dining room cupboards. The golden rule was to take what you needed anytime. We honoured that rule. There was always money in the wallet. And we never wanted for anything.

It’s amazing to reflect back on the years and feel such overwhelming gratitude. I often tell Rudy how lucky we are. He tells me we made our own luck by being prepared for opportunity. We are both “right” … and that’s a good feeling.

I’ve seen Menopause the Musical; it’s a clever rewording of popular songs that turns them into the frustration (and total hilarity) of menopause. Kind of like Mama Mia but without the dudes. There’s only women in this one.

Perhaps it’s time for a reboot!? And men could also star.

I get some great menopausal information from the most unlikely source: my dad. Due to his bout of prostate cancer he’s getting hormone injections that cause menopause like symptoms. We have great conversations about hot flashes. Funny thing is, I tried asking my mother about “the change”. Nada. Can’t (won’t) remember or her cognitive lapses have obliterated the whole episode. Who knows.

My sister started watching The Kominsky Method and rated it not worthy. Our housemate Bails gave it two enthusiastic thumbs up. So we gave it a try. Meh. But in the spirit of neighbourliness we have made it through three episodes. It was tonight’s that called out to me; I wonder if my sister hung in there long enough?

Michael Douglas, the protagonist, has the urge to pee constantly. Ding. His family comments on his trips to the toilet. Ding. The exact thing happened to my dad. However the next parts are where the two stories (my Dad’s and show) take abrupt leave. Michael Douglas recognizes his problem and seeks out medical advice. My dad decides to ignore the problem hoping it will resolve itself (with the help of a hair dryer). Tonight’s tv episode ended without us finding out the results. We do, however, know the outcome thus far of my dads scenario. Menopause.

It was a bit funny watching the scene on tv of the urologist office. The waiting room is identical to the one I’ve experienced with my dad. The doctor on tv is Danny Devito. Enough said. My dads doctor is serious and business like. Guys don’t like to joke about their balls.

It turns out that getting older has its downside. Wisdom with benefits. The benefit is just slightly hidden. I’m reading a book that I got from Santa all about how to be a younger you. Slow down the decay. As though the human condition is a tooth. Isn’t it common sense by now that if you exercise daily and eat right that you will feel better!? Thanks for the heads up. I sure hope those pretzels I ate earlier aren’t planning an attack on my decay!

I got a text from our friend Leo today. He was doing something at the Italian Club in Hamilton. The text was a picture of a sign on what looked like the ceiling. It said “David -night train-Lane”. Rudy’s best pal David Lane passed away a couple of years ago. May 18. He was a member at the Italian Club (which is still a mystery to me since he wasn’t even close to Italian) and took Rudy there often. It was a guy hangout and they talked about guy things. Dave was a great friend and sounding board for Rudy. I know he misses him a lot.

I wonder if they talked about menopause?

But that’s where I think there’s room for a reboot of Menopause The Musical. Guys can get in on the fun.

Live well my friends. Dilly Dilly.

Without further ado we arrived in Davenport at our home for the next three months. Set in a small enclave, Tuscany Ridge, has streets named after the well known Italian region. Very fitting for us as we are known to imbibe in a few glasses of (mostly red) wine.

Most of the homes in the neighbourhood have light coloured stucco exteriors with well groomed lawns and rear screened in pools. There is a community centre with tennis courts and a small gym located at the entry roundabout where a neat garden and sign announce the name of the area. There is very little car traffic, but we do notice a number of Ontario license plates. As we pull into our driveway the sun is shining full on the front of the house and the blinds are closed. We enter the code and deactivate the alarm.

Minutes later our housemate Bails and our friend Blair (Bails neighbour from up north and her Christmas travelling companion) arrive. Together we unload our cars and comment excitedly about the house. It’s actually better in real life than in the online photos! Of course Bails sets off the child alarm (which is wickedly shrill and loud) as she exits to the pool. A quick call to the home owner and the alarms are disabled. We have no kids to worry about … well, except Bails.

Beers are in order and we cheers to our arrival. I think we can handle this. It’s 30C and sunny. What’s not to like.

We celebrate New Years with a BBQ dinner and game night. Toasting frequently to retirement and the new digs. The toast of choice is ….

I digress: as a commuter (and subsequent to retirement) I enjoy listening to Jenny McCarthy on SiriusXM and in her show there’s a segment called “weird news”. I can’t adequately describe it so I recommend you google it and watch a short video. It’s a game they play where a news item (that’s bizarre and utterly ridiculous) and they guess what state the item occurred in. Hilariously the craziest news bits are from Florida and then they play a quick jingle … “Florida; fuck ya!” Like I said, you will get it as soon as you watch a video.

So our toasts have been “Florida; fuck ya!” After which we drink and then giggle at the absurdity of it. Very mature conduct becoming of newly retired seniors.

All in all, 2019 has started with a bang just as 2018 ended in the same way. Happy New Year from us to you .. may it bring you abundance of health, wealth and happiness.

XOX

The road trip continues into the Blue Ridge Mountains under clear skies. The views are spectacular and highway is like an endless ribbon cutting through the peaks and valleys. As it happens, we stayed just inside the Virginia border at a high altitude. It wasn’t apparent until we started the long descent back down to just above sea level. I should mention that the pet friendly rooms at the motel had two double beds. Molly made herself comfortable on one and we claimed the other. But as soon as the lights went out, Molly hopped off her spacious perch in favour of squeezing in between us; needless to say we had limited room and her heat was contagious.

We rolled through North and South Carolina and the temperature continued to climb. We peaked at 21C at the same time as we encountered a full on traffic jam. We were back in the GTA complete with aggressive drivers and fender benders. This carried on until we crossed into Georgia where an extra lane suddenly appeared and the bottleneck unclogged.

We veered off I95 heading to Jekyll Island to stay with Bev (Bails mom). Just at Brunswick we crossed the bridge into the island and paid our fare to enter. It’s like another world.

For most of the drive we have been entertained by the CBC podcast, Someone Knows Something, about the cold case of Carrie Ann Brown in Manitoba. We are at the climax of the multi episode show, but the scenery as the setting sun lit the sky in shades of crimson and fuchsia diverted our attention. The conclusion awaits us tomorrow.

Now the sun has evaporated and the sky is black. The tiny island is sparkling with holiday lights. We make our way to Bev’s in the dark, but she’s left the porch light on and a quiche is waiting in the oven. Yum!

First order of business is a glass of wine. Cheers. It’s warm out. And there are palm trees. With Christmas lights. Perfect.

After a delicious meal, Bev suggests we take in the historic district and the holiday lights. Yes please! Collingwood neighbourhood lights were lacking and I was ready for a fix. The display did not disappoint!

The historic district is a quaintly restored and maintained area for tourists to enjoy. Once the grandiose vacation homes of America’s rich and famous, now house museums and tourist attractions. But for the holidays the light spectacle is breathtaking and magical. A wonderfully delightful walking tour capped off our evening.

However, even though the light display was outstanding, the secret library entrance was captivating. It is the setting befitting a juicy murder mystery. Even the smell of old books and basement moisture is eerily reminiscent of a Nancy Drew novel. The library is sponsored by the Rotary Club and guests are welcome to take and leave books. I knew immediately that our hostess Bev was a client; the telltale “Bracebridge Library” stamp was a clue.

Tomorrow the adventure continues in Florida.

All aboard!!

How do you plan and pack for a 3 month hiatus in the south? Even though we booked the rental home in July, it seemed so far off that it was put on the back burner. No. Scratch that. It was put in the cold storage locker. Only to be hauled out quickly and dusted off. Poof! The time had come and we were heading out for our first attempt at snow birding. That’s a thing.

List was made. Checked twice. But at the final packing surge the what if’s take over. What if it’s cold? What if it rains? What if …. oh, get lost Chicken Little.

The main source of my anxiety was bringing Molly across the border. I tried to read every written shred of information and grilled anyone I knew who had travelled with pets, but websites were cryptic at best (ie no simply stated facts) and friends just said “oh, don’t worry… it will be fine” ; one actually pointed out that Molly looked healthy enough to appease the border patrol. Great. Just enough non-information to send my ocd into high gear. The icing on the cake came from my sister. In her adult voice cautioned “good luck at the border “. Normally I would chalk that up to whatever… but she’s a VERY seasoned border crosser who Knows. I was nervous.

The thought of having to turn back after making crazy arrangements such as boarding our lovely kitty, Otto, with a friend (that’s a whole other story), renting out our home, notifying neighbours, tweaking mail, going modern (bills on line … who knew), car storage … the list was extensive. I glanced into the backseat and observed my sweet, patient Molly lounging in her space and thought “if you only knew”.

We had a few planned and a few unplanned pit stops en route. But overall we were rolling at a decent 9 am.

There was a line up at the Peace Bridge. My heart rate quickened. This was the moment of truth. The endless line up to cross the bridge was agonizingly slow. But we made it to the Nexus booth. The guard looked angry; it’s a job requirement upon hiring I think. He asked our citizenship. He asked our license plate. We don’t know it. He has to get out of the booth and look. He takes our Nexus cards. Are we packing firearms he wants to know. No.

Ok. You can go.

That was all. It was the shortest torture session ever. Less than 2 min. Whew. I can relax. Molly is legit. Then the new ocd thought: we should have packed the medicinal cannibas!

Rudy has been driving all day. And up to the border, his deliberate slow pace was tolerable. I really didn’t want to deal with the border so delaying was ok. But once the dreaded ordeal was behind us, his turtle speed was painfully obvious. Think that’s harsh? Even the Amazon Prime semi passed … it was torture.

I tried to assuage the moment by putting on the playlist I had arranged for the family gathering st Christmas. Aptly named “Tina Holiday Frenzy” it’s a great mix of 80’s and a few other gems (Bohemian Rhapsody and the like). It’s a 2+ hour entertainment package. It was supposed to get us from Cheektowaga well in our way to Pittsburgh. It started to replay just past Erie. Yawn.

So rather than Pittsburgh we decided to call it a day at Grove City PA. A shopping Mecca. Rudy suggested (jokingly) that we should go shop the sales. The thought appealed to me for st least 10 seconds.

Where would we possibly put anything else? The car is jam packed. Not even room for a new pencil.

Stay tuned … tomorrow’s headline might be: snow bird found dead wife apologizes for losing her temper over a coughing issue. Argh.

When you retire there’s a sense of dread and a profound feeling of liberation wrapped into one. That was my experience anyway. The dread comes from the unknown: will I be bored, will we have enough _ (fill in the blank … money… stuff to talk about … interest in each other … ) will my life have purpose and meaning. It’s kind of scary. Like the unknown if a void space. A dark hole.

But at the same time the peaceful sense of liberation takes over and the void represents opportunity. In fact, the vast and endless possibilities present infinite ideas.

We decided, as retirement became our reality this spring, that we would take a year. Reflecting on our business journey and new normal and ultimately settle in to a new routine while ticking a few items off the bucket list. Ergo: camping in an RV, snow birding, travel and random adventures. We also made a conscious decision to shed some of the negatives that were binding such as people we hung out with and habits that we formed. There was a bit of guilt (misplaced mostly) in dropping some “friends” cold turkey, but looking back it has been positive. I didn’t realize how many dodgy decisions I made out of a sense of duty only to find out that the result didn’t make me feel better, rather, it made me mad at myself that I couldn’t simply be honest and true to my gut.

So now, in the very midst of our year of new beginnings, we are nearing the end of another calendar year, a Christmas season and a full moon. And the things that matter most are perfectly present.

There’s nothing I love more than sharing delicious fare with delicious people, and I’m looking forward to doing just that over the next several days. As a retiree I can feel the difference in gatherings as I can be fully present without thinking about business (did we cover payroll, was the thermostat lowered for the holiday break, did the fridge repair guy fix the problem, did we host a sufficient holiday party? Blah blah blah). Now I can participate in the conversation without the voices of reminders and to do’s.

And, by divine grace, my delicious people are all healthy. My mother in-law used to tell me that health was everything. I believed her because she was wise and told me wise things. But it never really resonated until it was in my face. You can never take good health for granted. She also told me to go with the flow. Another thing I didn’t get because I was too wrapped up in deadlines and responsibilities beyond my control.

So the Wiccans believe that a full moon and winter solstice are healing and a chance for new beginnings. This has been a year of new beginnings … and the new perspective that each day is a new beginning.

My wish for all is renewed clarity and a truly grateful heart.

Merry Christmas 🎄