#171: Deleted. Delighted.

Needing more space on my flash drive, I recently set about to erase some of its contents. Most of it was job related.  No surprise there, but I had forgotten how much I regularly did from home.  Letters.  Memos.  Booklists.  Power Point presentations.  Newsletters.

Yikes! –That memory stick is evidence of my workaholic tendencies.   No wonder retirement has made me feel a bit anxious.

But it was very satisfying to wipe that sucker clean and make way for new projects.

Delete! Delete! Delete!

#170: Chic(k) Knits

A woman in Guelph has made the news because of backyard poultry she acquired as a retirement present.   

When a couple of her new chickens started losing feathers, probably because they were being picked on by their coop-mates, the enterprising owner came up with a solution so creative that it hit the papers.  She made little sweaters for the featherless birds.

These fashionable fowl are, apparently,  now much happier. They are warm and cozy and are growing new plumage. (I bet the sweaterless bullies are really jealous, too.)  

So I am thinking feathered pets (probably non-allergic) and knitting. That`s a fun combination. And don’t forget the eggs...

Raising urban poultry seems to have a lot to recommend it.

#169: Dog Lust

Now that I am retired, I think about getting a dog.

But I am married to Mr. Allergic.

It looks like I have already chosen my pet.

#168: Fair Weather Housewife

I have always wondered why people who did their own housework while they were working, suddenly hired a cleaning service after they retired.  Had they run out of energy?

But now that I am my own cleaning lady, I think I understand why help may be required, and it has nothing to do with stamina or the lack thereof.

I am able, for example, to dust light fixtures and scrub bathtubs and schlep the vacuum cleaner. (I even drag Mr. Hoover up and down stairs and tell myself it is weight bearing exercise.)   But unless sunlight is pouring into every room, I haven't a clue about what I am dusting, scrubbing, or hoovering. I am stunned by this realization.   

So forget muscle.  My Swiffer/ scrubber/vacuum cleaner needs an operator with young eyes. It is either that or waste every sunny day on housework. 

Or I guess I could invite friends over on gray and gloomy days when they (like me)  don't  know what they are missing.

#167: Nancy's Rules

It is important that you enjoy what you read, and if you are an older person, especially, you don’t have time to waste on boring books.

I am, nevertheless, surprised at the number of people who doggedly read from cover to cover because they feel obliged to finish what they begin.  That is fine advice when renovating a kitchen but a bit pointless when applied to an activity that is supposed to be fun.  

So... at what stage do you give up on a book? 

A formula devised by Nancy Pearl, fiction specialist and former chief librarian at the Seattle Public Library,  takes the guesswork out of book rejection. Subtract your age from 100, and that is the number of pages you should read before you call it quits.

Today I told Mrs. B, one of my retirement home readers, about this method.  She wondered if she could make an informed decision after reading 5 pages.  Mrs. B has read so much over her lifetime that I think she could just glance at the covers and Nancy would not disapprove.  

#166: Xmas Wrap-up

The sun was shining as I un-decorated the tree this morning and packed up the ornaments.

Enough with gloomy Christmas clean-up in the evening, after work.  It is much more agreeable in broad daylight.  An excellent start to 2012!

#165: Resolution

I really must do more reading in 2012.

It would help if I could lighten up a bit about daytime reading.  Much as I love to read, it often seems much too indulgent.  Daylight hours are for useful, productive tasks like gardening/ exercising /volunteering / making dinner.

Pre-retirement, I confessed my puritanical reading habits to one of my library volunteers.  She admitted that as a retiree, she has the same problem but has come up with a guilt-free fix:  read fiction in the evening and non-fiction in the afternoon.

Oh oh.  This might not work. Her solution likely requires discipline.  But I have another idea.  If I read any book, morning, noon or night, I can always call it “research”.  After all, I have to make informed choices for my readers at the retirement home where I am the library volunteer.  Right?  

There’s nothing like a good rationalization.