Author: Roberta
Retirement gave me freedom—freedom to reclaim my time as I moved from working for a living to living for myself. I’m lucky. Except for those pesky doctor appointments, I set my own schedule and live the life I want, without the stress of a job. Almost every morning over coffee, Hubby asks, “What are you going to do today?” My usual answer is, “Nothing.” Of course, as the day goes on, I do some things. I don’t plan as far ahead as I did when I worked for a living. Most of my knowledge of the outside world comes from…
Father’s Day is already here, and I barely survived Mother’s Day! I say that for two reasons. First and foremost, I dearly miss my mother, who left this earth 45 years ago. I would have loved to share a cup of coffee and chat with her one more time, but I know that wouldn’t be enough. The second reason I’ve survived Mother’s Day is because of the hype surrounding it. Sometimes I receive a card—sometimes I don’t—but I always get a phone call. When my son was younger, he was more attentive. One year, he picked a bunch of dandelions…
The other day, I came across a recent photo of myself and was dismayed at how old I looked. Then it dawned on me. I am old! The funniest part about aging is that everyone acts surprised by it, as if it is something that happens to other people until it happens to them. For example, suddenly, grunting while getting up or sitting down becomes involuntary. Nobody warns you about this. One day, it just starts happening, like your body installs a new sound effects package without asking. So I thought about my aging. How have I changed over the past…
My mother used to love watching the soap opera Days of Our Lives. For her, it was a welcome break from the somewhat mundane life of a farmer’s wife on the plains of Minnesota, and she watched with fascination as other lives played out on the screen. I never got hooked on that series. By the time it began, I had already left home and was living my own life, like most people my age. Now that I’m retired, my days may not be worthy of a television show, but they are still important and meaningful to me. I try…
Sometimes you drift along, not paying much attention to anything, and then—WHAM—you get thrown a curveball. Can you hit a curveball? I can’t. I understand that’s the only reason many otherwise outstanding baseball players never make it to the majors. They can’t hit the curveball. I have trouble hitting any ball – even a golf ball – resting on a tee – not moving – so you can imagine what a curveball does to me. Without going into the gory details, my curveball is that I’ve been quite ill. When asked, “How are you?” I normally say, “Perfect.” That usually results…
Thankfully, the blahs of January have finally come to an end, and I made it through. But now that February is here, I feel the opposite—I’m being stretched too thin! No, unfortunately, I’m not becoming thin. So what does this popular phrase really mean? Being stretched too thin means feeling overwhelmed and exhausted—your efforts lose effectiveness because they’re spread across too many responsibilities. It’s like trying to spread a small pat of butter over a whole loaf of bread. (Okay, maybe not the best comparison for me!) To begin with, the sheer number of special television events created a major conflict…
I haven’t written a post in a while because I just haven’t felt like it. I’ve got a case of the blues. It happens to me every January—Mondays too. January feels like the Monday of the year to me. So what to do about it? I honestly don’t know! I have tried a few things, but nothing seems to get me over the hump. I even tried doing chores. The 30-year-old grout in the shower needed cleaning, so, whoopee, I did that! Clean or not, it still looks 30 years old! Reminds me of my face. No matter how many…
Well, Hubby is up to his old tricks. A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about him ordering groceries online titled “Online Buyer’s Beware.” To refresh your memory, he meant to order five bananas but ended up ordering five bunches of bananas instead. He also ordered ginger root. The piece of ginger root delivered was the size of my foot! My recipe called for 1TBS. Using my most effective feminine wiles, I tried to discourage him from ordering online again, but I was unsuccessful. He had already paid for one year of free delivery from the local grocery store and…
Hubby is always encouraging me to go to the fitness center, or should I say NAGGING me! Much to his surprise, the other day it was I who wanted to go, and I asked him to join me. No, I didn’t want to exercise. I wanted a steam bath and a jacuzzi. I also like to wash my hair there and shave my legs. The shampoo is much better than the stuff I have at home. Also, there is shaving gel instead of the plain soap I usually use. With great zeal, Hubby joined me, and off we went. I…
I’ve always been smug about one of the true joys of living in California—especially in the desert. Why? Compared to other states, there are NO BUGS, or at least very few! Yeah, right. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Once again, life has let me down. What happened? Living in the desert, Hubby and I often relax outside in the evenings, sipping wine and enjoying our happy hour. It has always been so pleasant. But the other evening, when we came inside, we both started to itch! And no, for those with dirty minds, it was nothing like that!…