Having grown up at the ocean, I’ve always been fascinated by the people who cast their lines into the pounding surf.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve envied people who fish. Not for livelihood, but for pleasure. Their signs hanging on the office door when they are on vacation “Gone fishin’” filled me with a quiet sense of envy and sometimes despair that I didn’t pursue a similar activity to fill me with that much enjoyment.
On my morning strolls around the lake the fishermen and women standing by the water’s edge look so peaceful and fulfilled as they cast their line and wait, patiently for a bite. They rummage through their boxes to find just the right bait which they expertly place on their hooks with dexterous fingers. Rain, sun, crowds – none of it seems to matter as they block out the world in anticipation of their catch of the day. I often wonder if they are disappointed if their patience yields no catch or are they satisfied with just being there, united with nature, solitude and anticipation in the sheer bliss of the act of fishing.
Continue reading “How Writing Is Like Fishing”
I recently returned from a trip to Toulouse, France. Called La Ville Rose (or “Pink City”) for the pink stone used in many of the buildings, Toulouse is a wonderful, human-sized city.
The city of 950,000 is comprised of one-third students (Toulouse is second to Paris in the number of students who live there), one-third employees of Airbus (aeronautics), and one-third residents who just love being there. Toulouse is the 4th largest city in France, trailing Paris, Marseille and Lyon. My husband and I went to visit our grandson who is studying there for the summer. It took a while to make the arrangements, because life kept getting in the way, but I was determined to make this trip and we did! Continue reading “Lessons Learned from a Trip to France”
A question of the ages along with “who am I?” and “what does life really mean?” is “Where will I live?” on every baby boomer’s lips regarding retirement destination. The decision translates to one of those milestone moments that we come to expect as the big one that can make or break the rest of our lives. As is true for much that gets touted as the “perfect day” or “happiness for the rest of your life” choosing the perfect retirement location can be filled with hype and hyperbole. And, like anything else, it pays to take advice with one’s own perspective in mind.
Continue reading “Retire to Paradise”
I was working in the yard the other day and heard the sounds of children laughing joyfully as they ran through the field, slid down the sliding board, swung high into the sky on a swing. I instinctively connected with their laughter as sounds of freedom.
As adults, we are often bombarded with tasks and responsibilities. In fact, isn’t the hallmark of adulthood being able to honor responsibilities? But, how many are enough? Is there not a point when we should begin to peel back the layers of overwork, before we suffer from heart attack, stroke and other maladies of stress? This, of course, is a hot topic and one which concerns most of us as we try to balance the “must-do’s” with the “wanna-do’s” of life.
Continue reading “Tabula Rasa: The Joy of a Task-Free Day”
Spring has sprung. The buttery yellow daffodils sway in the breeze while the red-breasted robin beckons from the trees. Mother Nature has pulled out all the stops once again as the drab grey winter gives way to the spectacular performance that is the pleasant prelude to summer.
The scene inside my house, while not as hueful as outside, is no less daunting. Each year the ritual is the same – swap winter wardrobe for a summer one. Scarves, hats and gloves find their way into my grandmother’s old black steamship trunk, a fitting color for the deadness that has prevailed over these last few dull months. Sweaters the color of mud find their way to the bottom of the pile. Coats lined with fleece have no place in the exuberance that is now June’s finery. Boots, socks, wool pants that have honorably performed their job of keeping my legs warm are now relieved of their duties.
Continue reading “Requiem for My Wardrobe”
“Hey, girl, how ya doin?” These words breathlessly appeared from nowhere while I was out running last week, and I full-throttled it to get away.
Police bulletins and newspaper articles have reported that there’s been a groper and a peeping Tom around my neighborhood lately, so I’ve been sticking to the main roads for my runs. Right now, I needed to get away from this creep. But, no matter how fast or how far I ran, the words followed me: “Thanks, girl, for what you’re doing for me.”
Oh my God, I thought, panicked. What is this? Who is it? How do I get out of here?
I shifted into high gear. Gotta leave Mr. Creepy in the dust.
Continue reading “Bad to the Bones”
Organize. Dispose. Downsize. Reading baby boomer and retirement blogs, I’ve learned that successful aging requires completion of these tasks. Like a test for the successful boomer, if your life is contained in more than one storage unit, you’re not ready to pass the “go” of retirement. Tomes have been written about the importance of shedding unused clothes, yard tools and untouched, I-wonder-what’s-in-there? boxes hidden in dark attic corners. Getting rid of clutter is so ingrained in our mindset that it has evolved into its own verb: decluttering.
Continue reading “Out with the Old?”