Taking Stock

Before closing this blog and saying good bye to the great pretirement experiment (or is it just the first phase?), I thought I'd review a few points:

• The documented life takes time. I was surprised at how much time it took to jot down even the minimal descriptions of our days that have appeared here. Then there's the planning and coordinating and making new plans to accommodate for unexpected events. It brought to mind that in retirement, time may become as precious as money and will have to be budgeted and allotted with more care. If I had it to do again, I would have jotted down notes and then created blog posts rather than trying to compose right in the computer.


• A new location and a different place of residence put the idea of retirement in a new perspective. It was good to have a house instead of a hotel room because we made meals, used the yard, did the laundry, and many other day-to-day activities that we will face when we retire. The differences in the locale, the weather, the geography, the people, etc. made everything a little more complicated and made us take time to think about why and how we do things that it's so easy to take for granted when you're in the groove of your familiar routine. We realized the importance of having guests and making acquaintances to break the isolation and monotony as well as the pleasure of just the two of us relaxing after dinner with no big deadlines to prepare for the next day. Family connections added stability and accountability and news from the outside world. We discovered new treats around Steve's house: the subliminal perk (seeing, smelling, tasting) of a bright yellow tart lemon on a cold, cloudy day, the pleasure of listening to the "old standby's" on the classical station on XM radio, lots of yummy treats in the fridge like corn and chili salsa.


• Don't hesitate to make adjustments to adapt to the new location. We needed a better GPS system for the car and never did. We did go to the Goodwill store and got some warmer clothes. I wish I'd also invested in a couple of pairs of thick socks too. Phil also put a lot of time into making fires at night, which made the evenings much more tolerable, but if I had it to do again, I wish we had built fires after lunch instead of dinner.


• Force yourself to slow down and appreciate the down time. We had several satisfying meditation sessions as well as tackling Sudoku puzzles with Peter's helpful coaching. Phil rigged up a light in the bathroom so he could read as he took long soaks in the tub. I listened to three audiobooks and enjoyed a lazy afternoon snuggling under a down comforter and listening to the rain. Give some thought to low-key parttime jobs, such as pet sitter (which I discovered I am not very well suited for). In retrospect, the rain was probably an advantage because it did make us slow down our pace somewhat.


• Never underestimate the cheap and easy. Besides our Goodwill duds and a steady supply of Trader Joe's bargain wines, I enjoyed several free or inexpensive sightseeing destinations, like Point Pinos Lighthouse and Tor House. Our hikes to the Forest of Nicene Marks and Hidden Beach were both memorable and so easy to get to. Don't lug around travel books when the Internet provides good information faster. Don't be afraid to re-visit the same location: climbing Russian Hill in San Francisco on two separate days brought two very different experiences. Watching the signs of spring around the neighborhood and soaking in the warmth of the last few sunny days as well as the wonder of the huge billowing white clouds (unlike any clouds I've seen in L.A.) against a brilliant blue sky were all priceless experiences that did not require Mastercard.


• Work toward a balance of activities. We had a few splurges, like me going to the Winchester Mystery House and Phil going to Pebble Beach, and balanced with many meals at home and videos. We faced the challenge of getting to know Dixie, day after day of rain, and the perpetually hectic Highway 1 and balanced the headaches with familiar comforts like going to the neighborhood Aptos Cinemas, the neighborhood library, and the neighborhood golf course. During the course of our stay, I reminded myself think big but don't knock yourself out. Let the surprises be pleasant ones.


• Allow yourself time to readjust when you return home. It has taken me a week since I returned from Santa Cruz to write this wrap up. There are lots of calls to make, bills to pay, things to clean, and work to do, so the first days home were kind of a blur and frankly it was difficult getting back in stride to meet the old responsibilities. It would have been nice to have a day of transition, but that didn't happen. At least I can reread the blog in a few weeks and draw some conclusions that haven't become apparent yet.

Over the Hill in San Jose and Otherwise

Wednesday, March 3. I find it amusing as I approach retirement age that people in the Santa Cruz area refer to San Jose as "over the hill" without seeming to be aware of the phrase's other connotation of being old and past your prime. In pretirement, it seems to me that you can still be at the summit of some of your abilities and at the same time begin to develop perspective on areas in your life where you are losing speed. Going downhill implies a certain amount of momentum that can carry you through some tough patches like minor health issues or lack of training in technological advances. With a positive frame of mind, the downhill stretch can be exhilarating not scary.

In the midst of light to heavy rain, the trip up and down the hill on Highway 17 was exhilarating to say the least, but not scary with Phil at the wheel. We talked about many things, including the difficulties of working with younger people. We noted a certain superiority many Gen Xers project and wondered if they just feel those of us born before the great technological revolution just don't get it or if their aloofness is just a good bluff. We didn't come to any major conclusions, but it felt good to air a few frustrations in the privacy of our own car. We had a little trouble finding the right exit around the interchange between Highway 17 and Interstate 280. San Jose is a working city, full of busy streets, commercial plazas, and people in a hurry to get somewhere else, not exactly suited for a leisurely pretirement pace.

Phil let me off at the Winchester Mystery House, a tourist attraction I've been interested in for years. It is a bizarre conglomeration of 160 rooms, 47 stairways, 2,000 doors and 10,000 windows put together by Sarah Winchester, the fabulously wealthy widow of the heir to the Winchester rifle fortune. She began the project in her 50s (and mentally the worse for wear after the deaths of her one child and husband) and directed the non-stop construction project based on messages she received from the spirit world for almost 40 years. The $28 entrance fee for the mansion tour is pretty steep, but the tour lasted over an hour on a mile long trek led by an informative and cheerful tour guide. There were people from Japan, Canada and Michigan on my tour so if does have a worldwide reputation. The rain let up during the tour, so I got a few good shots out in the garden.

While the narrative emphasizes the weird quirks of construction, I enjoyed seeing the meticulous craftsmanship like parquee and pressed wall coverings in many of the rooms. The original furniture was all auctioned off, but period antiques are displayed in many rooms to give a feel for what they must have looked like in Sarah Winchester's time. Not a lot is known about the woman or why she had such a mania for building, hence the "mystery" in its title, but I came away from the experience feeling I'd learned a little about California history and abnormal psychology. The prices at the cafe scream, "Tourist trap!" ($6 for a soft drink), but items in the gift shop seemed reasonably priced.

While I was doing the tourist thing, Phil visited some people at eBay Motors. Their "campus" was similar to Edmunds although the cubicles allowed for a little more privacy and the staff was more far-flung with offices in Kansas and the Northeast and even some outposts overseas. The people he talked to were enthusiastic about learning more about Edmunds, so he felt the visit was a success.

We picked up some coffee on the way home and talked to Phil's mother on his cell. She seems stronger but still a little disoriented after her heart attack last week. She talked to me about a women's club gathering she is planning for March, and it made me feel good to hear that she is looking forward to future events. Phil's father is recovering from his knee surgery too and agreed to set up a Skype call during the weekend so that Phil's mother and aunt could see each other as they talked. I got a call from the Census people and committed to a training program at the end of April. Phil built a fire and we both got out our laptops and click-clacked away.

We decided to walk down to the Club House for a drink and the rain started to fall as we walked there. Luckily, it's only about 3 blocks and Phil had an umbrella. It was cozy to be inside warmed by the fireplace and five or six monitors of various sizes broadcasting sports, sports, and more sports. The bartender was very upbeat and courteous, ready to listen, give advice or join in on a joke, depending on the needs of the group he was serving. We had a delicious Sierra Nevada on tap and some munchies and walked down the first hole on our way home.

It was great to come back into a warm (yes warm!) house after our wet, chilly walk. We kept the glow going with lentil soup, cornbread, a salad with lots of trimmings and a little more beer. Phil surveyed Steve's video collection and came up with an interesting 1977 movie called The Duellists. Based on a Joseph Conrad story, it had masterful art direction and costumes, an unusual plot, and serviceable if not quite convincing performances by Harvey Keitel and Keith Carradine. We gave each other backrubs as we watched, and then braved the ice cold downstairs to go to bed.

Rainy Days and Sundays

February 28. It was a little sad waking up Sunday and realizing that Drew and Tony have to leave today. We had a very healthy breakfast of oatmeal and bran muffins, and then they started packing and even fitted in the extra set of golf clubs Phil had brought up for Peter. The weather was fine, a brisk wind and blue skies with dramatic billowing clouds. We drove two cars to Pacific Grove and stopped at Toastie's for brunch. It's got a great country kitchen decor and generous servings and the place was bustling with the after church crowd.

We walked around town a bit and then went down to Lover's Point to watch the surf. Maybe is was the aftermath of the earthquake off Chile or maybe it was storms at sea, but the breakers kept thundering in and booming against the rocky coastline. We walked from one location to another and took lots of photos of course. Silly us, how can you possibly make a wave stand still? Phil got a call from Peter and learned that his mother was doing better and would be able to go home on Monday.

Around 2 pm, Drew and Tony got in the Mitsubishi and headed south, and Phil and I got in the Honda and took the coastal route by the golf course and even drove through Asilomar. We decided if tomorrow was not rainy, we'd return to Pacific Grove. Phil hoped to get 9 holes in and I wanted to see the butterfly grove and the Pinos Point Lighthouse. We had put off a special Valentine's Dinner (we had thought Peter would be visiting us that weekend) so we decided to find a nice restaurant in Pacific Grove and have a dinner out there.

The drive from Aptos to the Monterey area is much less hectic than the drive north. The road passes massive sand dunes and acres and acres of cultivated fields, strawberries and artichokes mainly. Now and then, there'll be a farm stand with piles of brilliantly colored fruits and vegetables, and glimpses of farm towns like Castroville and Watsonville in the distance. It's just a thumbnail of all the growing that goes on in the Salinas Valley and the San Joaquin further east, but it's very restful and reassuring taking a Sunday drive in the country--a throwback to childhood.

As we passed the huge towers of the power plant at Moss Landing, a long-legged crane stood right by the side of the road, watching us pensively as we passed. The Elkhorn Slough is a well-known bird sanctuary and has become a kayaking mecca of sorts. It was fun to think we'd bagged a birder's trophy from the comfort of our car.

Back home, we took Dixie for a long walk all the way to Hidden Beach. She was in high spirits, prancing ahead of us on her leash. We met a Pekinese mix (with an owner attached) and the owner explained "parallel socialization" to us. If two dogs are confrontational meeting head on (as Dixie and the Pekinese were), they may slowly accept each other if they walk side by side for awhile. We tried it with excellent results for the humans. The Pekinese's owner had lots to tell us about his trips to India and the care and feeding of small dogs. Sad to say, the two dogs were still a little snippy with each other as we parted ways at the intersection of Los Altos and Dolores.

The pathway into Hidden Beach, hemmed in by two steep hills, is always a little spooky to me, made even spookier by the shadows among the towering eucalyptus trees and the ominous hooting of an owl. Phil had heard the owl when he walked the golf course, so he knew what hole we were near. Most of the families at the playground were packing up to go home, and we passed several dog walkers heading home too. We did make it to the crest of the path by the park benches for a look at the surf. Thick cloud cover made the sunset pretty murky so we didn't linger. Dixie is such a little trooper. She made it all the way home on her own steam and gobbled up her dinner.

We had a more leisurely dinner of fat free refried beans and tofu burritoes and rice with half a beer. We have been reading passages from the Jon Kabat Kinn book and wanted to be relatively clear-headed for a meditation session. It went well. Dixie sat quietly on the sofa between us, like a miniature Buddha. (Hats off to Ron Burgundy) Then we finished watching Hitchcock's Vertigo and I got curious about the San Francisco locations. Phil said we could stop by San Juan Bautista on the way home if the timing was right and the rain wasn't falling.

Oddly enough, having spent most of the day away made Steve's house seem more like home to us. We settled in to a nice deep sleep. We can't figure out why we're sleeping so well. Is it the quiet or the cold or pushing back our sleep schedule to 11 pm or is it pretirement?

Good bye vacation, hello pretirement

Sunday, February 21. Wet, wet, and more wet. After Phil prepared a wonderful breakfast of raisin bread French toast, the rain really started to pour. The plans for a long run had to be changed to a walk, and when they got back Phil and Peter were soaked and had to change before we got ready to go to the airport. While he did the finishing touches on his packing, we put together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for him.

The grey grim weather made it easier to say good bye to Peter. After all, vacations quickly become as dreary as the weather, and the weather reports warned of lots of rainy day in the future. Phil and I drove away from SFO thinking that Peter only had only about an hour to wait before his flight back to Boston, but it turned out the plane was delayed because the crew got in late from Long Beach.

We drove back in the downpour and agreed that this rain was beyond anything we were used to in Southern California. There was so much water in on the freeway, the cars created their own little cocoons of spray as they sped along. Phil pointed out a minivan with a mattress and a box spring stacked on its roof at an alarming angle and secured with just one rope. The driver cruised along with this soggy load, zipping between lanes and casually chatting with his passengers like they were on a trip to the beach in a convertible on a sunny day. We laughed but I felt relieved when he passed the minivan. Better to be in front of it if that mattress began to slip.
That crazy minivan passed us a couple more times and became funnier every time it crossed our path. With tears in my eyes from giddy laughter, I thought what better way to switch from vacation to our brief experiment with retirement than a good laugh.

Back in Aptos, we quickly settled in to a quiet Sunday afternoon. Phil got his hair clippers and went right down to the bathroom to give himself a buzz cut. Now his hair is about a quarter inch all over. After the initial shock, we decided it looked kind of European and a little military. He's decided to grow a goatee as well. I'm tempted to cut my hair short too, but don't have the nerve to do it myself. Taking an extended stay opens the door to experiment with things you might not do at home with friends around that might be puzzled or even upset by radical changes.

The rain let up in the afternoon and Phil set out with his GPS hiking device and walked part of the golf course, measuring the holes and plotting the best way to shave a few strokes off his score. I went for a short walk with Dixie and came home to think about what I was going to do with the next two weeks. We had a nice spaghetti dinner and finished up some dark chocolate left over from Peter's visit. (We discovered that we all shared a preference for extra dark chocolate.) Later, we had a long Skype conversation with Drew and Tony back in Long Beach, sharing photos of our visit with Peter and their bike ride along the Los Angeles River. I began to see how easy it would be to become a couch potato in this comfortable home.