lifestyle

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.

Toaster Ovens

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Far be it from me to criticize the American appliance industry but I often wonder what jumped into the engineering head of folks who decided a toaster oven was a much needed appliance.  Having a small oven is handy in its own way but why call it a toaster? Why temp us toast lovers with the ability to get warm morning toast when one actually gets the stale bread a week later.

Indeed toasted bread can be achieved in several different ways with one critical ingredient, great heat applied for a short or relatively short period of time. Toaster ovens are unable to do either. Generally they fit into the vast category of “Almost A Great Idea” or AAGI (aw-gee) for short. At one time in the past we owned a toaster oven which also had the ability to roast a chicken. It had a built in rotisserie gizmo to spear the chicken with and rotate through the meager heat source. (aw-gee) After much trial and error we determined that the timer needed to be able to set itself to much more than the 45 minutes on the dial. The heat source warm up is include in this time since it is not instant on. (Alas and aw-gee)

Many devices fit into AAGI. Instapots and Airfriers might be two more. But often it is fun and necessary to use a device with a small heat source that supplies invaluable cleaning expertise and practice.

Microwave ovens supply this valuable expertise as they are able to rapidly take water from liquid to gas in a rice-sized pocket spreading soup or any other suitable substance over the entire inner surface while keeping the rest of the bowl at the temperature of a standard refrigerator. They are remarkable devices. If you ever require rubberized eggs for any recipe, a low wattage microwave is just the perfect solution.

All of these thoughts came to over the past several days as I pondered another stale bread morning in my nephew’s beautiful, quaint and cute little bungalow in Port St. Joe, Florida. My sister and my girlfriend and I spent three wonderful days there this past week.

We drove in my car so we did not have the wonderful packing experience of making everything fit into one suitcase. We took our time. We stopped occasionally to look for best toilet facilities. We visited Bukee’s in Alabama. No soft serve ice cream at Bukee’s which is a sad state of affairs. (aw-gee) We stopped at the Shrimp Lady which claims to be restaurant-ish on Google Maps. It is not but we bought 2 pounds of shrimps as big as my thumb that came off the boat 20 – 30 minutes previously. Over the next couple of days we ate them as shrimp and cheesy grits, and shrimp with garlic, onion, green pepper and spaghetti with marinara and generous Parmesan cheese.

Did the two most important women in my life just bring me along to cook and drive the car? It was a great trip.

Back to the toaster oven. It is a fine device in its own way but entirely unsatisfactory for making toast in the morning. The Nespresso Virtuo, however, makes excellent coffee one cup at a time, every time, as long as the special pods and a water source are nearby. Foamy luxurious coffee.

We are back home in Ohio. The forsythia in the back is just opening itself. The daffodils are poking up and wondering what the forsythia can see that they cannot. The forest view through my window is greenish against the browns and grayness.

Daylight saving? Time is here. And as Debbie says, “the light is returning to the planet”

I am off to ponder a method of saving the daylight and fold the laundry from the trip.

Carpe Diem.

Be It Resolved

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This time of year many make resolutions for the new year. Me too, of course. My resolution to myself is to be a better me. And I have no idea what that means. Yet, the idea that I want to be a better me implies I know myself now and there are improvements that can be made for the better.

Do we ever really know ourselves? How old does one have to be before acceptance as is becomes the norm?

This past year as I passed through three quarters of a century and Cheryl did not, I began to emerge from a deep funk, a depression, the sadness of her death, the gladness of her death, half a decade of overwhelming anxiety about her care and looked toward an open road and at the new sunrise and wondered, what next?

A new person entered my life who knows me only as me, a man, single, a writer that exposes his emotions to the world, who tries to be of service to others around him, and maybe shares too much of himself. She does not seem to mind my nuances of self. Like everyone I have many of those nuances, sides, aspects. We seem to fit.

Another resolution, perhaps a better one is; stay in the moment. Being a better me is a look into the past and attempting to improve. Staying in the moment is not looking back. Nor is it planning for some future that may not come. For now fitting is enough.

These are thoughts that come to me as I think about a new relationship.

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. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. (Max Ehrmann)

Thanks Max for reminding me about life.

Carpe Diem.