activities

Daily Thoughts and Inactivity

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The freedom of procrastination

One of the best parts of retirement, perhaps the absolute best part of retirement is the freedom associated with procrastinating one’s day away with delaying “must be done” tasks until some future unknown time. This tactic is not part of my personality and I rarely delay personal tasks. Debbie’s presence changes this, however, and sometimes I forget to do things. It has become over time a relaxed existence with Debbie in my life.

A heart attack inspires me to relaxation. The cardio rehabilitation classes that I participated in for twelve weeks or so, those are now complete, emphasize relaxation techniques which centered on breathing and yoga-like mental control. I have come to recognize the value of having an external commitment to consistent exercise. Cardio rehab taught me this. Previously I did not see the value of a class-like exercise program. I am autonomous in nature and prefer to operate alone. Competition with others does is not interest me. I do, however, find that a little push does get me moving to exercise.

I have been and am procrastinating about finding another commitment to exercise such as the cardio rehab class made available as part of my heart attack recovery program. Health insurance paid for these exercise classes.

I thought I would be rigorous enough in my pursuit of bike riding. An attainable goal of mine is twenty miles in one ride. Persistence is necessary but elusive. I have discovered a little untruth within me, I tell myself I will ride more, maybe every day but sitting still is easier and some days more satisfying.

I am a member of a local YMCA. In the past Cheryl and I went there regularly to exercise. She to a deep water aerobics class that she selected as her own recovery program from an automobile accident which left her weakened on her left side. Me to the gym to pedal an upright stationary bike and lift a few random weights. I also took a Pilates class that required no special equipment. We did this rigorously for a decade or so. Life happens and she is gone now.

I will start by riding consistently five miles each day.

Maybe tomorrow.

Carpe Diem.

HOA – and other thoughts

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A home owners association is the lowest form of government. In our little group of condos, I accepted the task of president. A lofty sounding office with no pay and occasional grief and I should add a job, position, office and title one cannot get rid of without death or at a minimum sale of one’s own real estate. I wish to do neither.

Recently one of our residents began the process of making application for a home improvement loan from a local bank. The bank loan office is plowing through its own internal procedure for finding out if a condominium is of a certain value and more importantly if the loan goes south what other obligations it has after it takes the property in foreclosure.

Banks and their loan staff are masters at covering their asses. Two times in the form sent to me as President and chief executive officer of the Crestpointe Condominium Unit Homeowners Association Inc. (lofty), they asked the question – Is there a special assessment in place or will there be a special assessment coming soon? – twice.

I wonder why that is important to the loan? If I had a bank officer nearby, I would ask.

I pressed on in my head about other questions; the previous owners did an extensive rehab before selling, what needs fixing? And is there a mortgage? How much equity remains?

Debbie and I discuss often the rabbit holes I fall into as I think about nuances of the various properties we have looked at the past few weeks. She likes imagining a different house and refers to herself as a hobby realtor. (One day we may find a better living situation than the one we currently have but that is off in the future somewhere, hiding where the universe put it.) Those discussions sent me to the county auditor’s website which tells a story about previous ownership. Sometimes it leads me to imagine previous life histories, although the stories can be fictional.

There is no mortgage. The resident paid cash. The previous ownership page does tell a story. I merely have not sussed out the time line completely.

I am still wondering about the resident’s need for a loan to repair or rehab what was done previous to his purchase. The houses Debbie and I look at are often recently rehabbed perhaps to justify a bigger selling price. How much does a $40 can of paint add to the final selling price.

A question for another day.

Carpe Diem.

Gone – September is Gone

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I have been doing more reading than writing. I admit it. I have been remiss at posting my thoughts about life. But, it is not that I do not have thoughts. Debbie and I have been busy with other things.

Debbie and I have been doing lots and lots of stuff lately. We have been looking at houses and came very close to buying one about a week or so ago but that started us to think seriously about what that would actually mean. So I suspect, I don’t suspect I actually know that’s going to take a lot of thinking and concern and worry and time discerning and considering various things in our lives.

Today, I decided to take a walk. Cardio-rehab is over officially. Walking takes a lot of time and there’s hardly any way to write while I am walking, so today, I am walking and talking to my phone into the handy Notes app I have on my portable communication device we call a smart phone.

A distraction – ( Look this way, lady, thank you. ) People ride on flat park trails with battery bikes. Not too sure why they do that. Seems like especially a flat trail like this that I like to walk, they would be better off with a regular bike. I decided to walk today to get myself in winter mode and I think that means walking. So 2 miles at least today, and then a couple miles in a day or 2. If I keep on doing that, maybe I can get myself back up to the 5 miles I used to do.

This park is full of wildlife and natural plants (not gardens) that live in Ohio and a couple little places where you can veer off into the woods. It’s nice and shady. It’s about 85-88° out the day, so it is awfully warm for October 1st. But what the heck of a good day for a walk. In addition to wildlife, there’s people riding bikes. There’s people riding in line skates. There are couple of old men like me, just walking around. There are a couple other old men who are still or jogging around – they’re pretty gutsy people (wearing knee braces). I don’t think I would do that, but here and there are benches. Where I’m sitting, the river’s probably 50 yd away, it bends around this little slip of land sticking out here if I walk down through the woods. Sun would be shining in my face and it would be pretty crappy fishing, but who can tell. Maybe there are bass in there too.

Anyway , it’s a good day to be out.

This evening, Debbie and I are gonna meet up somewhere and have dinner. But we’re also going to look at a house in Pleasant Ridge. It seems to be our new form of entertainment. If we can find a open house, we go look at it. This particular house is pretty expensive for Pleasant Ridge.

But then I’m an old guy, so I can remember when the 2 houses I bought years ago were like; less than $20,000, ($20,000 in 1973 is equivalent in purchasing power to about $150,891.89 today) and then later on less than $60,000.($57,000 in 1980 is equivalent in purchasing power to about $231,721.60) it is hard to find a house anywhere priced below $300,000. So these days, less than half a million is a good deal. Demand is a remarkable inflater of prices not value.

I don’t know. I’m just not convinced that housing prices should be that high.

I spent a lot of time this morning listening to one of my favorite lecturers or maybe my new favorite lecturer, Robert Reich, he teaches it U C Berkeley campus. Anyway, he was talking about Wealth and Poverty. And that’s intermingled with a whole lot of people’s opinions or ideas about how to make it in the world these days, we’re still clinging to that that Idea that, if you work hard and keep your nose clean, you can pull yourself up by your bootstraps and become rich. I have lived 77 years, I’m not, really not, convinced that’s true. I think you can do pretty well. I think it does make a big difference whether you have a college education or not. I think post secondary education always helps you.

I am writing this by talking to my phone. I have only one half a mile to go.

Carpe Diem

Flights to Portland

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After talking to my sister for awhile this morning I fell down the rabbit hole of – How much money to fly two people to Oregon in August? Leaving out the thought of what jet fuel might cost the airlines three months hence I searched the four airlines sites that I usually search before locking down flights to the Pacific Northwest from the Rust Belt in mid to late summer.

It looks like $750 – $800 round trip for the seat I want to sit in for four to five hours. Frontier is still searching. Their website has a cute little circle of death whirly twirly thing going with a brown bear in the middle. They are headquartered in Denver. Their website is afraid to say, “No Flights on those dates”.

Today’s activity will be to see if the Frontier site ever responds to my request. So far it has been 20+ minutes. Expedia responded within seconds. They must own all of the effective coders.

These things, like website efficacy interest me.

In the world of used cars – don’t let the guy who wants to buy something off of the lot get away before making a deal.

I quit waiting for Frontier to get back to me.

Carpe Diem

Screwtape and Lent

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Our pastor decided that it might be fun to read The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis for a Lenten exercise this year. Having read that in high school along with “Out of the Silent Planet” and “Paralandra”, I thought it might be a kick.

C. S. Lewis in the guise of Screwtape, a master devil mentoring his nephew and apprentice devil, Wormwood, writes near the end of chapter 13, paragraph 4: … The man who truly and disinterestedly enjoys any one thing in the world, for its own sake, and without caring two-pence what other people say about it, is by that very fact forearmed against some of our subtlest modes of attack. You should always try to make the patient (human subject) abandon the people or food or books he really likes in favor of the ‘best’ people, the ‘right’ food, the ‘important’ books….

That particular passage struck me right my prefrontal cortex. It was a bright sunny warm(ish) day in March. There are not many of those in Ohio. The Screwtape discussion group was scheduled for 1PM. I put my Trek in the back of the car and went to my favorite spot and rode 6 miles. There is something very special about early spring/late winter rides. They are infrequent and special. The book discussion was not in the category of “disinterestedly enjoyable”. I thought it would be a kick. It was not.

On the weekend prior to this book discussion meeting, we had met with friends for lunch and after lunch it was our plan to visit a small independent book store nearby. Debbie likes book stores. So do I actually but generally I am satisfied to patiently wait for the latest and greatest ‘important’ books from the library. Sometimes my wait is long enough that I do not remember why or who put me onto the title that magically appears in my holds queue at the nearby branch of the library. In this little book store I noticed a little book by Sarah Knight entitled “the life changing magic of not giving a f*ck”. The title alone made me laugh and I picked it up, turned to a random page and read, 7. Calculus. This may be my earliest recorded instance of not giving a fuck. My high school guidance counselor insisted …. I needed this for getting into college…. I did not take the class. I did get into Harvard.” That paragraph made me laugh and I bought the book.

I took calculus in high school. I also took it in college since the one I went to did not recognize the high school credit. Engineering students get a lot of math. Physics folks get more. Technical fields generally have statistical math of one sort or another. I do give a fuck about math.

Sarah’s book is much more interesting than “The Screwtape Letters”. The language is a bit crude but it captures the sentiment of, “abandon the people or food or books he really likes in favor of the ‘best’ people, the ‘right’ food, the ‘important’ books” succinctly. In life there is often (maybe always) someone to report to you what wine pairs with what food. There is, no doubt, also a YouTube video about wine pairings. If those things are important to you then you should give a fuck to it whatever it may be.

Be present to your own ideas, thoughts, morality, ethics. Educate yourself to your needs not other’s wants. Believe in yourself and as the Max Ehrmann quote goes, ” And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul….”

Carpe Diem.

Twas a good day to ride

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It was a good day to ride.

This time of year mid to late February is the time of year that I become anxious maybe even restless to ride my bike outdoors on the Little Miami Trail.

It was a good day to ride.

It was chilly out. I asked Alexa and it reported that it was 48 degrees outside but I ignored that assessment because the sun was shining outside my windows.

It was a good day to ride.

I read with interest as MSN weather on my computer reported that there was little wind only a light breeze from the south. South is good I thought as I examined the leafless trees and bushes outside the window.

It was a good day to ride.

It is rare that in mid-February in Ohio the weather warms to Fahrenheit’s measurement of 60 and the sun is shining and there is little wind and the LMT macadam will be dry.

It was a good day to ride.

I said in my head, “Remember you haven’t sat on that for twelve weeks or so. Remember to ride with prudence. Remember to look down when you stop, if you stop, and do not put your foot into a hole where you stop.”

It was a good day to ride.

I put my bike and the rest of my equipment in the back of my Nissan Rogue and drove to the end of my road to park in the lot near where I ride on the LMT.

It was a good day to ride.

In the lot as I listened to the battery pump inflate the rear tire of my Trek to 60 pounds per square inch, I looked around the nearby field. No snow. A hawk was flying overhead searching for breakfast.

It was a good day to ride.

As I listened to the pump inflate the front tire, I looked through the rest of my bag to find my helmet and my gloves. Satisfied that I was not missing anything I put my water bottle into its holder on the frame.

It was a good day to ride.

The pump shut off automatically and I disconnected it from the stem, unplugged the battery and placed it back in the bag.

It was a good day to ride.

I clipped my cellphone to its holder on the handle bar, adjusted my little fanny pack with my wallet and keys, made one last check of the car and locked the doors.

It was a good day to ride.

I mounted my Trek and looked at the position of the derailleurs. I had garaged it with both in the proper position for an old man to ride off without straining a hamstring.

It was a good day to ride.

I spun the right pedal up to push off. I took one more look around at the weather, my surroundings and any unnoticed grid lock in the parking area on this beautiful great day to ride in February. I was alone.

It was a good day to ride.

I pushed off and reminded myself, five miles this time, feel the air, listen to your muscles, hear your heartbeat, stop and stretch if I need to do it.

It was a good day to ride.

There were a few walkers. There were a few dog walkers. I rode to 47.5 painted on the LMT surface near a good place for breakfast if I wanted it. I did not.

It was a good day to ride.

I made a U-turn and rode back past the horse paddocks and the lot where I had parked. I rode south to the 50 painted on the macadam. I rode past the portion of the trail trying to slide down the hill. It has needed repair for some time. It is well marked and I ride around the damage.

It was a good day to ride.

I made a U-turn just south of the 50 and on my return to the north I heard a friendly, “On your left!” I replied with, “Thanks” as he went by and thought to myself that he was not going much faster than I was at the time.

It was a great day to ride. And I felt I was home. I was proud of myself for sticking to my five miles today.

Back at the car I reversed the unload process and put all in the back of my Rogue. I started the car and lowered the windows. I ate a few peanuts that I had with me and reflected on how great it was that the universe put me here at this time and gave me the health to enjoy the now.

It was a great day to ride.

On the way home from my first jaunt on the trail, I saw two does by the side of the road chatting about what a great day it was… or simply socializing… or discussing ways to get rid of their winter coats… or hiding from the stags.

Back in my garage I left the bike in the back of the car. Another opportunity could present itself. I need to be present for it.

It is simply a great day.

Carpe Diem.

Friday

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This day of the week has over time become special to me and to Debbie and I.

Last year the part time teaching job I had with a local community college involved maintaining an open lab on Wednesday and Thursday evenings as well as Tuesday mornings. Debbie works in her profession on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday also. I remarked once to her that our Friday came on Thursday, so our Saturday came on Friday. It was our day of relaxation, dinner or lunch and other dates.

The movie theaters are very uncrowded on Fridays. Sometimes in our favorite theater us and one other couple are watching the film. I like that.

When I bought tickets to the play we are going to see tonight I specifically picked the Friday performance.

When we started dating, that term seemed foreign to me. I referred to our outings as field trips. I think, I am certain, I was hunting for a term that would not hurt Cheryl’s feelings. Cheryl had passed on from this earthly existence but then as now she is still in my heart. Field trip is a term Debbie and I still use to describe our date activities. Much like a term of endearment it is a code, a phrase with a personal meaning for being together and enjoyment of an activity.

“We need a field trip.” she will say. My reply is yes we do and off we go to dinner and a movie or something.

Today the field trip is an afternoon luncheon and later this evening the play at Cincinnati’s Playhouse in the Park. The performance is “Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women” an adaptation by playwright Lauren M. Gunderson. I am looking forward to it for several reasons. It is coming to Cincinnati directly from Portland where my sister lives. Some of the actors are from there. I could not get through the book earlier in my life so I am inclined to find it in the library and read it again to see if my reading tastes have changed as I grow older. However, the real reason is that I have an opportunity to spend time with Debbie.

We will talk and muse about the past week. We will discuss Florida again. It is currently snowing in our part of the world so we will complain a bit about that. Afterward we will discuss the play itself over a glass of wine and maybe a snack.

We are going tonight because our trip to Florida bumped this play from our schedule last week. Another field trip is what we both need during this snowy season in Ohio.

We could stay in and whine about the weather or we could ignore it and rejoice in life and its pleasurable attributes. Soon the snow will be over.

Snow-mageddon be damned. We are going to the play.

Carpe Diem.

connections - NYT

2026 Complaint

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Dear New York Times Games Editor,

My girl friend and I wish to register a complaint with reference to the January 1, 2026 Connections puzzle published at midnight.

Often in the early morning we exchange SMS messages to determine how well we slept over night. It is also a routine of ours to put our heads together and discover the categories to the connections puzzle published in your paper. I have subscribed to your paper for many years and I am writing to register a complaint.

This mornings purple category is without question sneaky and incorrect. “vegetables without a letter” is incorrect. “vegetables without some letters” is the correct category but this designation applies to many words and is therefore sneaky and unkind to duo solvers such as us. Shame on you!

Your clue category of “ALE EEK HIVE QUASH” was very puzzling to us both early this morning. I suggested to my love – words without the starting “S”. Shive is in fact a word albeit an obscure one, so obscure this word processing program underlines it with red squiggles. Similar to a bung it is used to close a barrel or container. It is also the past pluperfect of the noun shiv when used as a verb to indicate the style of injury enacted upon another in a reformatory situation.

Although “KALE” is a veggie of some note among the svelte exercise and tight glutes set, it is of no interest to those of us who began life in the previous millennium. Similarly “SQUASH” aka mixed vegetables on the restaurant menu is only of marginal interest, however, these are valid choices in a certainly weak category of vegetables without a letter.

Whoever orders one leek will certainly looked upon with disdain and if that same person were to request no chive be included in their sour cream for the baked potato, she or he would in all probability be banned for life from any available table. Further shame cast upon that person! It is with this last that I am called to register the most grievous complaint for chives although is in fact a plant it is more likely to be described as a spice or a garnish than an actual vegetable. As proof of this position, I offer no restaurant menu offers as a side item chive. Nor would that same institution include one chive mixed with sour cream to enliven the taste of an otherwise boring baked potato.

Further support of this position being unnecessary, I close my letter of complaint and bid you and yours a very merry and happy new year.

With best regards,

The Adjunct Wizard

connections - NYT

Carpe Diem in the new year.

A 2026 Calendar

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Time and Dates and Events

The activity of marking and acknowledging life events was Cheryl’s job. All through 2025 I realized how much I missed her and her organizational ability when my date dyslexia would dissipate for a moment and would remember that I forgot some important event like a birthday or anniversary. These, of course, were an important acknowledgment of some life altering event. Something to be commemorated. Something to be celebrated. Or something to be commiserated.

To her life was a continuum but it was marked by various events both good and bad.

When she moved to a memory care facility and I disassembled her office back into a guest bedroom, I developed a simple sorting method for her clutter. Clutter is an unkind word because in her own mind as it disintegrated she was doing real work and “getting things done.” It breaks my heart when I think about it. Scattered in various storage spaces in my condominium now I have collected the clutter into three general categories: pictures, letters, notes.

The pictures are easy. They are of our family and friends and sometimes Christmas postcards that show the growth of often far flung friends and family. In earlier times she sorted and organized these. During the last few years of her life she sorted and organized but the associations were meaningless to others, as well as, her after she had done so.

The letters did not need separation or organization. These were separated into their own file folder. Cheryl and I wrote many many letters back and forth while in high school. I have these collected with my own response in my office.

Her notes I sorted into their own tubs and a couple boxes. I hope to write a memoir as I review her notes to herself.

Today I went through the big black book that we (I) purchased for her to help her remember birthdays and anniversaries when her cognitive function was fading. The BBB is its own category. It has all the dates of family and friends births and anniversaries and in some cases, their deaths. It has also collected many other notes and pictures paper-clipped and stapled here and there at random. This coming year I hope to remember my family’s birthdays and although I am not a card sender, I can acknowledge the date.

It is hard for me to go through this book to recover birth data because it contains cognitive data and the lack there of as well. This note, stuck in the book on April 15th, reminds me how upon occasion her cognitive ability returned for short periods

– DO NOT worry about greeting cards for the W/girls for now) (too much stress –

I do not know which W/girls she referred to but her mind was telling her to relax a bit. The note is printed in all caps. Mileena’s birthday is noted on the page above this note and the parenthesis are askew, nevertheless, she recognized her internal stress about getting it right and wrote herself a note to let it go. She consistently wrote notes to herself about this or that and attached the notes to that or this. The attachment did not always go with the note.

I did achieve my goal. I constructed a calendar of my own and slid it into a plastic sheet protector. I laid it on the kitchen table so that I can ignore it in a brighter light filled room. (When she was alive it resided in the hallway to our bedroom.)

Better in Retirement

I am ready for 2026.

Carpe Diem.

Too Busy Too Much

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Can life be too busy? Can it be too much?

At certain times in a time of creativity it is. Yes it can.

I have not been good at blocking throughout my life. I must learn that, the ability to block certain times for certain activities and to block out other thoughts while doing those activities, is helpful to following creative thought.

“Human life revolves around four big questions: What is the meaning of life? What is the ultimate source of right and wrong? How can we reduce the amount of suffering and injustice in the world? How can we understand the world without resorting to magic, using reason and evidence instead? – Jonathan Rauch.” I read this in David Brook’s column in the New York Times. What does that have to do with “too busy”? Throughout my life (and career as a controls designer) I found that when I was up against a particularly vexing problem – dilemma, conundrum – simply walking away mentally for awhile helped with finding a solution or at least a path towards one. Some would call this prayer. I think of prayer as a literal request, so, I do not. (Maybe I should think of prayer differently – a different topic.) Although I am not good at blocking, there are too many devices nearby, I am able to about-face my mind and focus entirely on something very different. Jonathan’s list groups some of the topics hovering in the background that jump into the foreground when I let my mind wander off the vexation.

These are all deep enduring thought exercises. If I truly want to abandon rational thought for awhile I ponder the meaning of Facebook, TikTok and X.

Writing these small blog posts help me to disengage for a bit.

Simply disabling the ringer on the mobile phone is remarkably satisfying.

Life is too busy.

I want to devote more time to writing. I want to devote more time to travel. I want to devote more time to service others. I want to do more me before there is less me to do it.

Carpe Diem