I should begin back in January, but my mind is not what it used to be. Remembering what I did a year ago is challenging. And gives me a headache.
So I will move along to February. Hub and I escaped the cold. We visited friends who deserted us up North and now call Florida home, then hopped a Spirit flight to Costa Rica. It is always a pleasure flying Spirit (note: sarcasm here).
As retirees we try to travel at a pace more conducive to 60-somethings on a flexible schedule than young working folks cramming a whirlwind vacay into a week or two. We visited friends (another couple who deserted us Northerners) at their Costa Rican casa. We lounged in their pool, drank their wine, ate their food, picked bananas off trees in their yard, the visit an integral part of our budget-conscious travel strategy.
We returned stateside for a wild trip with the grandkids to Disney World, a reminder that WE are not kids anymore.
Our at-home schedule would be considered boring by many. We attend classes offered by a local organization and I spend hours on the group’s program committee. It is my unpaid retirement job.
I research trips we rarely confirm.
I garden when neighbors working outside make me feel guilty I am not.
I attend zumba and yoga classes, hard work that never appears evident on my body.
We visit doctors who missed us while away.
We drive to Vermont to babysit grandkids. In May we fly (Spirit again) to Florida to see grandkids in year-end school activities.
We drag table, chairs and grill out of the garage, clean them and look forward to spending time outdoors. Then it rains. Copiously. All spring.
Mid-year. June and a festive two-week family trip to Israel. We return home with no time to recover from the grueling itinerary because summer means relatives and friends knock on our door. We shop, we cook, we visit, we are pooped. And every year in time for my June birthday I get sick. 2017 was no exception.
We go car shopping but do not buy.
We return to Florida in August because it isn’t hot enough in New Jersey and babysit the grandkids for a week while their parents fly to Paris. Business trip is the excuse. I know better. Mom and Dad want to escape the oppressive Southern heat.
Suddenly September. Family and friends flee (until next summer). Cool weather reigns. The garden needs attention. The house demands care. I procrastinate.
December. We return to Florida for grandkid events ($40.20 each way on Spirit, the airline for cheap travelers willing to scrunch into seats and do without free mini-packs of pretzels).
And all year long we pass too many hours in front of 24/7 news feeds feeling depressed and wondering what the f**k is happening in our world. My 2018 New Year’s resolution: pay less attention to all the news. Ignorance is bliss, and I want more bliss in my life in 2018.
Wishing everyone a healthy, happy, non-stressful and peaceful 2018.
Happy holidays! Happy New Year!