WHEN I'M SIXTY FOUR

I’m still working on rewriting that Life List. An idea will hit me and I will furiously write it down. Then the list will sit for weeks, sort of forgotten, mostly ignored. Recently, I have been thinking how that Life List should be more of a Retirement List. Though, I expect I will be much older than sixty four when retirement happens. Last week, I was talking to one of the ladies in histology and she told me that she was retiring in January and moving to Florida. I wouldn’t dare guess about her age, but she said that she had been in research science for more than thirty five years now and it was time. She still seems youngish to me and this made me realize that I too might still be youngish when I finally retire. I mean, Sir Paul McCartney is seventy eight years old and he just released a new album. During a Pandemic! Michael read me a post from someone he knows on Facebook. This person was wishing their sister a happy fortieth and something about her life was now half over. I said “How are you living your life that you’re only going to live to eighty?!?!” Micheal’s response was “You expect to live longer than that?!?”

Well…yeah…I do expect to live longer than that. That is why I need a game plan.

I have some ideas. The early years of retirement involve an RV that will also accommodate storage for our scooters. By then, Michael will have dumped his giant scooter in favor of a more reasonably sized Vespa. Both of our Vespas will fit nicely in the toy hauler Class C Motorhome that I have already picked out for us. We’re going to travel the country and one way of funding our adventures will be our December job as Mr and Mrs. Santa Claus. We will supplement the rest of our income with Michael teaching some online math classes and me teaching some RV park yoga classes. On nice days, we will explore what ever town or area we are in on our scooters. Rainy days will be spent relaxing at the campground. I will be warm during the winter months and a comfortable temperature in the summer months. During the Fall months, we will be in whatever part of the country that has the most spectacular Fall leaves. Probably Vermont.

Eventually though, the RV lifestyle is going to be unpractical and our bodies will need something more stable. I have a plan for this. Okay, so you know those road side motels that are made up of small tiny cottages? Like the kind you see on Route 66 or something? I’m going to buy one of those, preferably one in a temperate climate area and close enough to a hospital. One cottage will be reserved for a licensed geriatric nurse. The other cottages are up for grabs and will be our personal living spaces. The main office area will be converted into a communal living room with a giant kitchen. We will have an on duty chef, but with also the option of cooking our meals or potluck meals. There will be a pool and pickle ball court because I hear that pickle ball is all the rage with the geriatrics. There will be activities and volunteer opportunities and maybe a community vegetable garden. We’ll form our own Rock-n-Roll choir like the one featured on CBS Sunday Morning. I’m basically just creating my own retirement village. My very own version of The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. Except I hope to fill my village up with my friends.

It will be great.

AT LOOSE ENDS

Tiny bouquet

12 Likes, 0 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Tiny bouquet"

Michael asked me the other day how I felt about not doing a 365 day project any more. I told him that it feels a little bit strange. Every single day for the last year, I took a moment out of my day to photograph myself. During the week, those moments usually happened in the mornings while I was out on my morning coffee walk. My backdrop was either a stairwell or some place outside. On most days I did not have an elaborate plan or idea; I just took a picture. Sometimes these were pictures of my hands. Sometimes these were pictures of my feet. My favorite one of the set is the one I took of just my leg and boot against the gray background of the stairwell. One could assume that I was doing a karate kick or a dance step. It has a simple minimalist aesthetic quality that appeals to me for some reason.

Some time around late October, I got really tired of the daily self portrait. I had not gained any insight into myself or built creativity. My eyes still went to the places on my body that I felt needs improvement instead of just seeing myself as beautiful. I mean, it wasn’t a complete bust. There were photos where I’d look at myself and think “wow, I’ve gotten skinny!” or “I really like how the gray streaks through my hair like highlights.” But I soon grew tired of myself and the day to day of it wore on me so much so that I did not want to continue with a 365 day project for this year. I didn’t even think about the project the day after taking the final picture until I was almost done with my morning coffee walk. I paused for a moment thinking I’d missed a turn or something before I remembered that this was my usual time of day for taking a photo.

I kind of don’t know what to do with myself.

I entered 2019 with out any sort of plan or intention. This might sound freeing to some people. The year is just one big open blank book to be filled with what ever fantastical idea I decide to fill it up with. A big blank open page. I am not the kind of person who thinks any of this sounds freeing. I don’t make up a detailed weekly meal plan every week because I’m being budget minded and trying to prevent food waste. I do it because if I don’t plan out the meals, dinner time will be chaos. Like tuna straight out of the can on saltines chaos. Though being budget minded and reducing food waste is also a good reason for the meal plan. If I don’t have some idea of a plan, my life tumbles into chaos and disorder. Which again, some people may thrive from chaos and disorder. I can tell you that this is the worst time of year for me to not have a creative project to distract myself from all the yuck that bubbles up inside me during the winter months. The winter is also when I feel the least motivated to do anything but curl up in a blanket while wearing my heated unicorn slippers.

I’m doing my best not to rush something. Recently, I sat down and wrote an outline for a book idea. I have the same story half written in a half a different ways floating around in various formats on my computer. I thought maybe writing an outline would give me focus and help to start pulling things together. It is giving me some direction and I have even spent a couple of hours writing on this project this week. I don’t want to set myself up for failure by saying this will be the year I write a book, but maybe this will be the year I get closer to writing that book. Maybe this year I focus more on writing and just a little bit on photography. I have started a new photography project, but it’s a photo a week. I’m calling it Project Zen. Michael gave me a desk top Zen garden and once a week I spend some time smoothing out the sand. Then I drag the rake through to make a design and carefully drop in the tiny rocks. Once I’ve finished, I take a photo. It’s a much more relaxed photo project, more like photo meditation.

I recognize that having some free time might not be so bad either; that facing the yuck instead of distracting myself from it would be a more mentally healthy approach to life. Maybe this year I can do a little of both.

COSTCO CONVERSATIONS

Costco shopping

11 Likes, 2 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Costco shopping"

The subject of what container I will one day put Michael's ashes in comes up around here more often than you would expect. It comes as a little bit of shock to people who only know me as the widow, to hear that I've put my late husband's ashes in a coffee can. Of course all of us who knew Chris all agree that a coffee can is probably the most fitting place for his ashes. I can't think of anything better really except maybe a bag of beef jerky. It would have to be a really big bag and seal really really well. I can be irreverent when it comes to death. For some reason, every one just assumes that I will also out live Michael. Michael is the first person to point it out. He’s surprised he’s lived this long. I’m surprised he’s lived this long. We are practical and we’ve had the talk about what to do with life insurance money and vaguely about what to do with his ashes. Our friend Jen, suggested a bottle. I was all “Ooh! Good idea!” then started to wonder where I was going to get a bottle big enough.

Costco. That's where I'm going to get a big enough bottle for Michael's ashes. They have an end cap of wine on display and all the bottles were either a three liter or five liter. Michael picked up the five liter and tucked it under his arm. We did not buy the wine because it was almost sixty dollars (and our wine comes out of a box!), but it just looked funny to pick up a five liter bottle of wine and carry it around like you were going to a fancy party. When we first saw the bottle, we both had the same thought. This was the bottle for Michael's ashes. So then we ended up standing there and having this whole discussion about not wasting the wine. First we should all drink the wine and then put his ashes in it. We shouldn't just dump the wine out. Unless it turns out to taste awful. Then, we mix it with fruit and make sangria. Next came the debate over the size of bottle to get. The five liter is funny, but I really feel like it's too big. The three liter would be fine, I think. I did also think that a regular size coffee can was big enough to hold all the ashes of one person. That was an inaccurate. We should probably go with the five liter just to be sure.

As we are having this conversation about what size wine bottle to get for Michael's ashes, I notice that there's a few other customers standing around. Their faces ranged from sad and pitying to what the fuck is wrong with us. They probably thought Michael had some incurable illness and wasn't expected to live long. "Look at that sad couple having to make funeral arrangements while grocery shopping at Costco because they don't have time to do it later." I so want to dead on seriously look them in the eyes and say "No one has time do it later!" Instead I just started laughing because for one thing it's a HUGE bottle of wine and for another thing, I can see a clear image of how ridiculous my bookshelf is going to look one day. Actually, it really is a good excuse to travel more. Eventually I'm going to run out of Chris's ashes and I won't need that coffee can any more.

Then I'll just be left with an enormous bottle and small canisters for all the pets (and I mean ALL the pets).

There was an old woman who swallowed a fly....