Rounding Third, Heading for Home

This week has FINALLY arrived! One could say we have been waiting for it for five long months, since we closed on our NC house on March 31st and moved in with Missy M. One could also say that we have been waiting for two years, since we decided that we would downsize and relocate after we retired. One would probably be correct on both counts. Either way, in baseball terms, we are rounding third base and heading for home!

So, how did this week begin? Well, we are celebrating the first full week of our newest family member, Logan. We adopted him from the Walton County Animal Control, where he had been owner-surrendered because he was "to(o) hyper." We were told that he was "around 5 months old and weighed about 30 pounds," and the guess was made about his parentage: possibly Dalmatian? 

Wrong times three as it turns out. I took him for his first vet visit this morning, and when we got him on the scales, he weighed 25 pounds (and trust me, he hasn't missed a meal this week!). She checked his teeth and found he still has his lower puppy teeth (although his permanent canines are in on the uppers), so she's guessing he is no more than 4 1/2 months old (I had guessed he was younger than they said, since those little needle-teeth had been doing a number on our hands and arms!). And she thinks he is probably a border collie and lab...or possibly a pointer...mix.

Absolutely no matter...none whatsoever. Logan has completely stolen our hearts in the short time he has been under our roof. So much so that I have totally changed my thinking about one key point: I was at first appalled that anyone would surrender a puppy for being "hyper;" now, I am so very thankful that someone did surrender him so that he could have a chance at a good life. And "a good life" is exactly what we intend to provide! 

Here are a few more photos:

Also, as we begin our "Heading for Home" week, I had a good report from my foot doctor. He was pleased with my progress, but he wants me to continue to "ice & elevate" and wear the walking boot for at least another week. Fingers crossed that all will be well by September 6, which is when M is taking me to see Mickey at WDW for my birthday. But that's for a later post...

Back to reality...

I'd love to report that all was peachy-keen in the Peach State, but that's asking for too much. On the projects front, the electricians were busy with the fan and light installs last Friday (see pictures below). Single to right...man on first.

The Merry Maids guy didn't show up for his appointment to give us a quote (foul ball!), but the Molly Maids came through for the Move-In Cleaning today (double to center...advancing runner to third!).

But those electricians didn't quite finish the job and had planned to return yesterday. Didn't happen. Can't happen until after Labor Day weekend. Swing! Miss. Ah well...

Then Mr. T got a call from the moving company's Ops guy about our scheduled move-in on Thursday (8/31). Uh, no...that should be 8/30, says T. Hmmm. Seems that when they say a move is a two-day affair, they are counting their packing and transporting day as Day 1; the actual move-in happens on Day 2. Swing! Another miss. Ah well...again. 

Two strikes on this batter. I guess instead of rounding third and heading for home, it's more like we are standing on third and trying to steal home. So close...only 90 feet away! We can see it...we can feel it...we can taste it. 

H-O-M-E. 

And I have no doubts we will be there by the time I post my next update 'cause this batter is swinging for the fences!

Nailing Jello to a Wall

Well, well...it's Wednesday! So, what's on tap for today? Let's see: Mr. T is at Casa 303, finishing up a cup of coffee on the covered porch. Here's his view looking out our back door (yes, it was another rainy night in Georgia):

Me? I'm RICE (rest, ice, compress, elevate)-ing my right foot at Casa 2244. Sigh. Only 3 weeks to go (you do realize that when the doctor said 4-6 weeks that I only heard the "4," right?). Wish I could report a miraculous recovery had happened, but no such luck. Still hurts. Dealing with it.

So, a division of labor has occurred based on current abilities: Mr. T (who can drive, lift, and carry) has inherited all the hard jobs. And me (who can sit, type, and talk)? I have inherited the Command Center. For instance...need new light bars for the bathrooms or some such? I place the order online and then track them down when they haven't arrived as promised (sigh); Mr T picks them up or makes sure he's at the house when the item is scheduled to be delivered (we are actually admitting the need to hire an electrician to install them, believe it or not). 

Another example? AC still not working properly after 3 house calls and a new compressor? My job was to contact the home warranty company...several times...wait on hold...143 minutes the last time...to be told basically "we're sorry." Not satisfied with that answer, I figured out what my options were: (1) contact my realtor (who is the REAL customer, since she chose this warranty for our seller to purchase and she has contacts with their Marketing folks) and (2) take my case to social media. Even though Option 2 gave me personal satisfaction, the first option seems to have gotten the best result since the AC vendor decided to send someone else out for a look-see.  That meant Thomas was up to bat, meeting the AC guy and hanging around while they installed and tested a new evaporator...which seems to have finally done the trick.

So far, so good. We divide and conquer...and we have this little routine going. Here is our current life in a snapshot:

As we moved ever closer to our move-in date of August 30 (yes! We have an actual date!!), all of the projects that we have on our To Do Lists (yes! There are more than one!!) are getting checked off or are rushing toward due dates. The major-major project has always been the flooring (replacing a bit over 1000 square feet of vinyl and laminate floors with wood-look porcelain tile), and it is front-and-center now. 

Last Saturday, Mr. T was at 303 to receive delivery of all the items needed for the Tile Project to proceed. Here's a picture of the pallets in the garage:

With that, it was time to get on the schedule of the installers (8/16), and to schedule with the plumbers to uninstall the toilets for the day before (8/15). Check! Up next: schedule Stanley Steemer to clean the tile (construction residue) and the carpets for after the installation (8/25), and Merry/Molly Maids to do a pre-move-in cleaning (8/28). Check and double-check! Then we should be ready for the movers who arrive with our stuff 8/30. Triple-check!

Perfectly planned, right? Perfectly timed, right? All nailed down, right? Wrong!

Just like what happens if you try to nail Jello to a wall (got that visual in mind?), our perfect plan has oozed out of our grasp. The installation company called after 4:00 yesterday, wanting to move our install start date up...to TODAY. Yikes! Which meant some fancy footwork had to be done about the plumber before 4:30...thank heavens they were still answering their phone!

And, once again, Mr. T had to battle the Sugarloaf Parkway morning traffic (remember ? Retired! We don't do traffic jams anymore if we can avoid them!) to get to Casa 303 and meet the installers Mo and Moose (I am not making those names up).  Here are some photos from the scene:

>Taking up the vinyl in the breakfast area (note: they have moved the stove)

>Painting the quarter rounds (which T is doing in the garage)

And me? I have to begin the process of rescheduling all those other appointments. 

Yep. Like nailing Jello to a wall.

Three Months and Counting

When last I wrote, I posed the Big Question: where exactly is our new "here?" At long last, I think I know the answer: our new "here" will most likely be Loganville, GA.

We made an offer on beautiful park-like yard on Kings Way that happens to have a perfect-for-us 3/2/2 house attached to it. We checked off all our "needs" list [3 bedrooms, 2 baths, 2-car garage, treed and fenced yard with plenty of outdoor space for gardens and doggies, close to Missy M (it's 14 miles away)...all for a retirement-friendly price under $200k], as well as almost all of our "nice-to-have" list: fireplace with gas logs, gas stove in the kitchen (well, it will be once we upgrade the appliances...;-), wood floors in living areas, granite countertops, separate dining room as well as separate laundry room, and permanent stairs to the attic...or in our case, to the expansion area over garage. The house even has a red front door!

Our offer was accepted, the inspection and appraisal both went well, and we are on track to close the deal mid-month. But that makes it sound like it has all been smooth sailing to get to this point in the process. Trust me...it has been anything BUT smooth.

After looking online at seemingly hundreds of resales in and around Lawrenceville (the majority of which were "pending/due diligence/under contract" before we could actually go visit the properties), we decided we would go with new construction. So, we wrote an offer on a new build in Winder, only to find out that the builder had accepted another offer on that lot (and didn't bother to post "pending" to the MLS). No problem...we wrote another contract: same house plan, different lot. After telling us there had been a price increase, the builder verbally accepted...then went off to Tampa. When he returned, he had decided he didn't want to build "our house" on "our lot" for the price he had verbally committed to. So we decided we really didn't want or need to deal with a...well, I guess the kindest word I can use here is "flighty" builder.

Moving on...

We had an offer accepted on a house in Snellville, but the same day that we found out our loan had been approved, we found out that the house didn't appraise for the purchase price. And even though our realtor did her best, the seller wouldn't budge on the price.

Moving on...again...

We raced home from our AZ trip to keep an appointment to see a house...that went under contract while we were at the ATL airport. We previewed scores more houses online, most going under contract before we could make an appointment. As our realtor said: "you know, houses don't stay on the market for more than an hour in this market." We wrote offers here and there and everywhere...only to come in second or third or tenth...but never first. Can you say "seller's market?" Sigh. 

Moving on...ad nauseum...

And then, just as we were ready to take a break from all this disappointment, our sweet-wonderful-resilient realtor sent us yet another list of "new listings." On it was a house in Loganville that was "back on the market." Turns out, this was a house that I had favorited the same day we'd flown out to AZ, and of course had gone under contract while we were there. End of story, right? 

Moving on, right? Not so fast! As it happened, the seller had accepted one of three offers...an all-cash offer, contingent on the sale of the buyers home. Only...that sale apparently didn't happen, and the other two offers had moved on when he put it back on the market, so when we walked into 303 on the afternoon of June 13...and then walked outside into the back yard that our realtor described as "a park," we immediately asked her to cancel our other appointments for the day and write up an offer. (She already had an earnest money check from us...left over from a previous attempt to make an offer on another house...no worries there!). It felt like we were in a race to beat any other offers that might slip in.

And the rest has been a sprint to the finish line: July 14. We submitted all the paperwork (again), we cleared all the contingencies (again), we were approved (again), we paid for a home inspection (again), and we paid for an appraisal (again). But, this time, the house we had chosen appraised for more than the purchase price. Woo hoo! 

So now, the only thing standing between us and closing is the closing attorney getting everything ready for our very own Bastille Day. Fingers crossed...and toes, too!

And, to think, it only took us 90 days to get this far. Three months...and counting.

++++++++++++++++++++

Want to see more pictures of our soon-to-be new house? Check it out here:

Cutting the Cord, Part 1: Background

Well, we did it! After several months of discussion, research, angst, more discussion, phone calls, more discussion, more research, and finally a few necessary purchases, I am thrilled to report that we have become official cord-cutters. Or maybe you prefer the term "cable-disablers." Either way, we did it!  We called our (wonderful) telephone, Internet, and cable service provider (North State Communications... which began life years ago as North State Telephone Company) to let them know that it was time to say goodbye (well, not entirely...more on that later). And I thought it was time to blog about it.

Some background is needed. A long time ago (1975), in a galaxy far, far away (Jackson, Mississippi), I was intrigued by this new-fangled offer called "cable TV" when it became available to the apartment complex where I lived. I remember two distinctive things about those early days: the promise of commercial-free programming (doesn't that sound quaint?) and the arrival of HBO (movies! 24 hours a day!). Oh, and no rabbit-ears on my TV. Sign me up!

But when we married and moved to Memphis, we decided we could carve cable charges out of our newlywed budget and still be ok. Plus, that promise of "commercial-free programming?" Yeah...went the way of the dodo bird.

Through the years, we were rarely slaves to cable TV. We learned early on that we were better off without HBO (or any of the other premium movie channels for that matter) when 4-year old Missy M spouted a word that neither of us would have used in her presence...following a vacation stay at a Virginia hotel that offered HBO. Mr. T had simply been channel-surfing, as he is wont to do, alighting briefly on the HBO station at exactly the same time a character blurted out the offensive word...and apparently Little Miss Big-Ear-Pans (a name my own Daddy had often used) heard the word and decided she ought to file it away for use at another time. Like the next day when Mr. T was trying to park the car in the parking lot at Williamsburg and was cut off by some jerk who had to have that exact space. "He's a b*stard," says Missy M, matter-of-factly from the back seat. I thought Mr. T was going to choke, right then and there. "Where did you learn that, young lady?!?" says he. "On TV," says she. Out of the mouth of the babe, right? It was a cautionary tale that we used for years to explain why we didn't have cable. And we were fine with that, honestly.

Enter my mother...and the Atlanta Braves. When Nana/Momma/Edith came to live with us, she would say the hardest adjustment for her was that we didn't have cable (she had had it in Smithville, by necessity since it was so far from anywhere that reception was awful at best), and she missed her sports (read that: TBS, the cable superstation that carried the Braves games). So, when we moved to Atlanta in 1997 (and coincidentally when M went off to college), we broke down and signed a cable contract. (M uses this to illustrate what a deprived childhood she endured...having to grow up without cable TV. Right. Of course, to this day she is a devotee of Masterpiece on PBS...and she could probably still tell you how to get to Sesame Street, word for word!)

About this same time, another necessity had wormed its way into our lives to stay: the Internet. At first we satisfied the need with dial-up, and our initial service provider was none other than North State Telephone Company of High Point (circa 1994-97). But our move to the Atlanta area coincided with Mr. T's employment with Mitsubishi Fuso, which required him to have a home office. Initially, having a second line for a FAX machine was more important than a faster connection, but that changed when we bought our house in Dacula, GA, where both of us had home offices (I was working for Deloitte Consulting at the time), so we got a DSL as soon as they laid the line to our subdivision. Blazing speed, comparatively!

I'm not really certain of when we began getting our internet service from our cable provider, but in our move from MO back to High Point, we initially went with Time Warmer (who was the only game in town), until our little ol' telephone company laid fiber to our front door...bless 'em! So, for the past few years, we have been loyal North State customers...and honestly couldn't have been happier with the service...lightening fast speed, relatively few outages, and one bill to pay each month to cover telephone, "video service" (as they call cable TV), and Internet.

But what a large bill it was. Price, therefore, became another issue altogether, especially after we retired and began to look for places we could control our expenses.

We first decided we no longer needed a landline. It had been installed mainly because Mr. T still needed a FAX for his home office (although we had long ago done away with a second line for that)...and as of earlier this year, that was no longer necessary. Besides, the majority of calls we got on the house phone were telemarketers (yes, even though we are on the DO NOT CALL list) or, worse yet robo-calls...ah, the joy of living in a swing state during an election year. So, if you want to talk to us, call us on our mobile numbers!

Next came the most difficult part: what to do about television? Since we are not under a contract with North State (they don't HAVE contracts, bless 'em!), we decided to explore whether it would be possible to ditch the cable connection. 

In Cutting the Cord, Part 2: Taking the Plunge, I'll recap what we did. Stay tuned...

Turning Back Time

End of a month, end of a quarter. Where has the time gone? It was Winter...and now it's Spring, as evidenced by this first rose bloom in Missy M's back yard.

It's been a busy 13 weeks since 2016 began. One might say "life-altering." But I'll get to that momentarily. Please know that I have had several good reasons for my recent silence...or, at least they seemed good to me at the time. (There's that word again: time.)

Let's see if I can recap...

January and February — In reviewing my calendar for that first month, I am struck by how ordinary the days and details appear. After the Holidays, I had several "usual" things scheduled, including meetings relating to Master Gardening, my historical book club, and various and sundry doctor appointments. But by mid-month, we knew that "ordinary" and "usual" were two words we would never, ever again use to describe January 2016. 

While on his first week away from home since his knee replacement surgery and recovery last October, Mr. T was asked to meet his VP for breakfast while in Maryland. When I returned home from a meeting at the Extension Center, I had a text that read "be careful what you wish for." And I knew, then and there, what the subject of our subsequent phone call would be: retirement. 

To paraphrase Shakespeare*: "Be not afraid of retirement...some achieve retirement and some have retirement thrust upon them." We were working our plan for T's retirement to be "achieved" following his next birthday...a more or less "official" retirement age, if you will. But, the chickens of some unfathomly poor and unbelievably numerous corporate decisions made in Japan and in Germany since 2009 came home to roost last year. And "workforce reduction" was supposedly a last straw. Blah, blah, blah...I could go on (and HAVE, at length). Bottom line: retirement was thrust upon T in mid-January when he accepted a package. And we have spent these last several weeks digesting options and rewriting our script.

At first, we thought we should accelerate our move to GA, and we began a whirlwind of activity around that chore. Then, we came to our senses, took one giant step back, and two very deep breathes...and decided to give it some time and space. 

After Mom's death in 2011, I went through grief counseling and am reminded of some excellent advice I was given then, summed up much better than I could write below. I think it just might apply now:

"Usually it is wise to avoid making hasty decisions, especially in matters of such consequence as moving...I offer this useful rule of thumb: Make no major decisions for at least six to twelve months..., until you've experienced all the seasons of your emotions. This...happened barely two months ago, and I would expect that at this point, you're both still frozen in a state of shock, barely able to believe (much less able to make any sense out of) what has happened to you. You and your wife are extremely raw and vulnerable right now, and not in the best frame of mind to be making major decisions, such as moving." (From The Grief Healing Blog Post " To Move or Not: Making Decisions in the Wake of a Recent Loss")

To be clear, we have discovered that T's "grief" over this loss isn't so much about the job itself; it's more about the loss of the right to make the decision on our own timeline. The job...the product...the company: those things have all changed so drastically and not-for-the-better over the past 5 years...those things were already "lost" to the point that many "what if" scenarios have been discussed over our morning coffees for many, many moons now, including the possibility of a package being offered. So, it wasn't necessarily a surprise that it was offered...just when it was offered. So many senior management assurances had been given that there wouldn't be a workforce reduction...both empty and false, as it turned out. Ah well, in our heart-of-hearts, we knew better...why else would we have even ventured to discuss the possibility? Why, indeed.

So, our retirement schedule moves forward from September to February (or June, since that's when the package ends). And our moving schedule moves from May to..., well we are still working on the date. Let's just say "not May."  The good news? Because of all the preliminary work we did in January, we have most of the major decisions made and lined up (who our Realtor will be, how we will prep our house for market, what we will do, where we will be moving to); it's just the pesky when question that's still up in the air at the moment. Sigh. 

We decamped to Georgia for the last two weeks in January and the first few days in February, to serve as dog- and house-sitters while Missy M met a rather aggressive work-travel schedule. There, I had a bit of successful eye surgery (YAG-laser) to correct a problem I've had since my first cataract surgery in 2012 (yay!). We had returned to HPNC for a couple of weeks sans our dogs who remained behind while we took care of some things "back home." While we were in NC, one of the most frightening episodes of my recent memory happened in GA...giving me chills just recalling it.

Somehow and for some unknown reason, our part-Australian Shepard Winston decided to go on walkabout by digging his way under M's fence to freedom. Panic ensued, and then we put Operation "Find Winston" into high gear, with fronts in two states NC and GA. I truly don't wish to relive those horrible hours when he was missing, so let's just move forward to the time four days later when he reappeared and tried to dig his way back into the fenced yard. That didn't work so well, so he walked around to the front of the house and waltzed into the open garage door. "Here I am!" Good grief. We arrived a few hours after he had returned, ever so thankful that he was unharmed and none-the-worse-for-wear, other than extremely hungry and so tired that he slept for nearly 12 hours straight. 

Mr. T spent the next week building an "auxiliary fence" (a fence beyond the current fence, all the way back to M's rear property line), along with a gate in the existing fence, creating what we now call The Outback...more or less a huge doggie play area in the un-tamed part of the property. The Drool Gang loves it! Well, all except Dixie, who still prefers the sofa inside the air-conditioned house, thank you very much.

Yes, we have already turned on the AC here. Of course we have also had mornings (including the first day of Spring) when we had to turn on the fireplace. Nothing new, right?

March — And that brings us to the present-but-rapidly-ending month. Mr. T and I headed back to GA for Easter, enjoying Easter Brunch at Ray's On The River (photo below), albeit without M who has had an awful upper respiratory infection. She's better now, thanks.

And I'm now continuing my journey on to Mississippi to attend Homecoming at the W. Even though this year has a tough act to follow from WHC2015 (refresh your memory of that trip by visiting that post here: http://adsit2.blogspot.com/2015/04/lost-and-found.html   ), I am truly looking forward to reconnecting with my college friends. Should be a fun weekend, turning back time as Cher would say.

I mentioned there were several reasons for my absence, didn't I? Time for me to wrap this post up with my final reason. I have been filtering some comments that come through to my blog...some that have given me cause for concern. I started this blog more or less as a journal for myself, a place to touch base with friends and family, and a repository for pictures I wanted to share. All has been well until this year, when I started receiving and rejecting comments in foreign (read that: non-English) languages. I neither read nor speak these languages, so I have no way of knowing what is being shared by way of the comment section on my blog. For that reason, I have turned OFF that capability. 

Need to get in touch with me? Let's use the old-fashioned way: email! I trust you remember that...

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*"Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them". - (Quote from Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene V).

Marking Time

Finally. A bright, sunny day. The weather in HPNC has been so dreary of late that I was beginning to feel a tad depressed. And you know me...I'm NEVER depressed. Too much to do...too many places to go...too many people to see...too many books to read...too many sweaters to knit...too many roses to smell...too many veggies to harvest...too much new stuff to learn. No time to yield to depressing thoughts. Mind you, if I'd had any desire to give way to The Black Dog (as a great-uncle used to call it), the past few weeks might have offered an opportunity. But, just like Annie sang "The sun'll come out...tomorrow...!" And it has...today!

A bit of a recap is probably in order:

I told you about my wrist surgery (DeQuervain's release) in my last post, so I guess an update is overdue. Recovery progressed right on schedule, and here I am 8 weeks later, feeling fine and glad I had it done. Once the stitches were out, healing truly seemed to speed up...and now I rarely remember that I even had surgery a couple of months ago. The scar-tissued skin covering the 1"-long incision is still a bit tender ("perfectly normal and to be expected, as those nerves were severed and must regenerate" quoth the surgeon), so my Mickey Mouse watch continues to be absent from duty and I continue to roll up the sleeve on my left arm a bit to keep anything from touching that spot. I try to remember not to drape my purse or a shopping bag over that wrist. The real test? Knitting again. Tried a little bit after my Dr. gave the go-ahead at my appointment last week; will add a little more time each week until I'm back in the groove. Best news? Dr. W says that once this repair is done and I'm completely recovered, I should NEVER have this problem again. (At least not in the same hand...;-)

In my last couple of posts, I mentioned that Mr. T was getting ready for knee replacement surgery. He checked in on October 7, had a partial knee replacement, stayed overnight at Baptist Hospital in Winston-Salem, was up and walking down the hall with a walker, and came home the next afternoon. Wowzers! And he hasn't looked back. Here's a picture taken just after he got in his room from recovery...along with a "picture" of his new knee. Remarkable!

Long-time readers of our Christmas newsletter (also called The Adsit Adventure) may recall that he had a total knee replacement (TKR) of his right knee in 2005, when we lived in Missouri. So he was somewhat prepared for this one. Only...not exactly. Things have certainly changed in 10 years! For one thing, his relationship with this surgeon was completely different...and much more rewarding this time around. Dr. P called Mr. T at home, after hours, not once but twice in the same evening...just to make sure T understood the procedure and was comfortable with what was going to happen. And "what was going to happen" was completely different, as the surgery was "done" by a robot! Read more about the Mako surgery here: http://www.makosurgical.com/makoplasty/knee. (There's even a link to a YouTube video. Oh, and his scar? Much longer than illustrated. Every bit as long as the one for the TKR.)

Because T had his surgery in a teaching hospital (NC Baptist is associated with Wake Forest University's Bowman Grey School of Medicine) and he was given a nerve block as the main method of anesthesia, he had agreed to participate in research being done on adding additional pain-blocking meds. It was a blind study, so we had no way of knowing what amount, if any, of which "extra med" he received. Well, we didn't know until nearly 40+ hours after the surgery when the feeling FINALLY began to return to his shin/calf. Pretty much a certainty he received the mondo dose of the max concoction. 

Sounds great, right? One tiny problem: T had to be checked for "pain response" by sticking him with a sharp object (think: safety pin!) every two hours. So, every couple of hours throughout the night, like clockwork, "Justin" (the unlucky assistant who drew the short straw) would appear at T's bedside to stick him with a sharp point and ask "can you feel that?" Yep...long night for all involved. By 4:00 a.m. I was ready to suggest that T just tell J that he could feel it, so we could all get a few precious hours of sleep before breakfast. (Who am I kidding? I had to get up anyway to dash home and feed the dogs, as I'd done the evening before. I had just enough time for a quick shower, a cup of instant, and another mad dash to get back in T's room when the Dr. came on his early morning rounds. Made it with a whole couple of minutes to spare!)

We were home less than 24 hours before heading back to W-S for T's first physical therapy session. These folks waste no time, do they? And, that about sums up our last few weeks: "Heading to W-S for physical therapy session." They must be working because T ditched the walker after 2 days. He does use a walking stick for his two-mile walks in/around our neighborhood, but more for stability than anything. He can climb the one flight of stairs to his office, although he's doing that much less often than I'd feared. He continues to progress on schedule as confirmed when he was seen by the physician assistant a couple of times, getting his staples removed on 11/9. Since he still needs meds to manage the pain, especially after PT, he can't drive yet, so that keeps him on the DL for now. Fingers crossed for the OK to return to work (and driving!) at his next PA appointment 11/19. We shall see...

When we had a few warm, sunny days at the tail end of October, I decided to get back in the garden...it had been too long! I was thrilled with the late harvest I found!

...flowers, too!

Since I love to get a third season out of our soil, I decided to plant some lettuce, spinach, turnip greens, and collards in the raised beds. First, of course, I had to clean the jungle-like growth from a couple of the boxes...the result of having been unable to garden for such a good part of mid-to-late summer, going into fall. It all seemed to go well, until...

The following morning I realized I must have aggravated my left foot and caused a flare of the sesamoiditis. Great, just great. Nothing to do but wait it out. So, for the next 10 days I rested, elevated, and iced my aching foot...and indulged in the pain meds the Dr. had prescribed when I had the stress fracture in the sesamoid bone earlier this year...which he had warned often leads to chronic sesamoiditis.  (Read more about sesamoid stress fracture becoming chronic here: http://www.foothealthfacts.org/footankleinfo/Sesamoid_Injuries.htm)

Only, I couldn't "indulge myself" on T's PT days, now could I...one of us had to drive, for pity's sake. 

Weren't we a pair? Both of us, kicked back in our matching red recliners, T with an ice pack on his left knee...me with an ice pack on my left foot. And neither of us with a wineglass in hand because of pain medication! I even ordered us walking canes from the medical equipment store...but I drew the line at matching canes! (Mine has butterflies on it...;-)

And that about sums up the last couple of months for us: surgery, recovery, and rehab. Rinse and repeat!

We have tried to use our time together wisely, viewing this as a window into retirement, albeit a much less active one than we envision. Let me just say that many cups of coffee have been consumed! I checked several books on retirement out of the library and even succeeded in getting T to open one: "How to Retire Happy, Wild, and Free," by Ernie J. Zelinski. 

We've had numerous "what if..." discussions about: possible dates "to pull the retirement trigger" (we have narrowed it down to 4 possible dates that occur from late 2016 through late 2017); healthcare coverage after we no longer have employer-provided options (since "caring for our health" is a current theme!); and reviewing the 401k balance, allocation, and investments (since the recent market volatility has had everyone on edge). We went to the HP Senior Center to preview a Tai Chi class and had the same initial reaction: liked Tai Chi...felt out-of-pocket at the Sr Ctr. "That's where Nana went!" (Never mind that we are now both in our 60's and certainly qualify to attend. Ahem.)

While we know this pre-retirement respite is just a taste of the real thing, we do agree on something: we are looking forward to the opportunity to enjoy "the real thing!" The question now is, I wonder if we can return to our previous programming without feeling a ounce of regret that we will have to "unretire" for possibly as long as two more years? 

Or will we begin to feel like we are marking time? Again, we shall see...

The Time Has Truly Come

The Walrus and The Carpenter

by Lewis Carroll

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

Well, here we are. We have arrived at March, 2015. And it occurs to me that the time has come to begin posting about a subject we have been discussing in earnest at Casa 3917 lately. While it is certainly not a new subject, it has moved forward with a bullet, based on the events of the past 4 weeks. I speak, of course, of retirement.

But first...a pause for some snow pictures from the past week. We made it into the 60's today, so our snow days are numbered. And I wouldn't want to forget before moving on.

Ah yes. Moving on. You know, one of my alma maters, the University of Memphis, has a motto: Dreamers, Thinkers, Doers. Well, the time has come to move on to the realm of the Doers.

As the new year began, we were dreaming and thinking in terms of the Retirement Big Picture (did we have a plan in place for some unnamed date in the misty future, were we saving enough, what are our healthcare choices, etc?). Mr. T's recent heart-health scare revealed a glaring gap in The Plan, mainly that we are living in the wrong place...about 5 hours northeast, to be exact. We can have a plan, a budget, comprehensive healthcare coverage...but if we are too far away from Missy M (AKA: our support system), then everything else is at risk.

So, even though we still aren't ready to commit to an exact date, we do know we are talking about next year. And we do know we are talking about a downsizing move, likely to Gwinnett County, Georgia (where Missy M is...and where we lived 1997-2002), which will take several months to prepare for. I will be posting about the process and about our experiences. Since there are still thousands of things to consider and hundreds of decisions to make, I will welcome the opportunity to voice our successes and roadblocks alike.

Sure, we have made 13 "permanent" moves, with a few more into/out of temporary quarters, in the past 39 years, so we know what a pain moving can be. A. Giant. Pain. But we haven't moved ourselves since making a cross-county move in 1999...from Duluth to Dacula, GA...and that nearly did both of us in. One of the issues with that move was that we hadn't done a ruthless purge prior to making it, thinking "oh, it's just across the county." Wrong...on so many levels!

And because we have made mostly corporate moves, we have gotten complacent about all the stuff we have wagged all over the country: if we weren't paying to pack and ship it, we didn't really care whether there were 100 or 1000 boxes.

That changes today. The time has come to take the first tangible steps toward our goal: decluttering. And, how timely indeed! I saw this post that Cousin H liked on Facebook...perfect! Click here to see the decluttering hints I will be following as we prepare to make our move.

While I still have a couple more weeks of wearing this splint on my left wrist/hand, I can commit to "a bag a day." Whether I pack up a bag of clothes or knickknacks for Goodwill, or throw away a bag of old magazines, I am setting a goal of removing a bag of STUFF from our surroundings each day. That should get me going in the right direction...without having to do any heavy lifting.

Yes, the time has truly come to begin preparing for our next big Adsit Adventure. Join us, won't you?

Leaving Georgia: Our Once and Future Home

Home again, home again...jiggity-jog. We loaded up the cars and headed north on I-85 on Tuesday. We had enjoyed a wonderful vacation in Lawrenceville, but it was time to return to HPNC. Still, while I was ready to be back on our own little bit of soil, I am missing GA already. One foot here...one foot there. More on that topic in a sec.

First, a few snaps from the ride home:

The top/bottom pics of Abbie and Winston riding shotgun are fairly self-explanatory. They spent the whole five + hours switching places, front to back. Actually, didn't blame them; it was 95 degrees outside, so the AC felt good, especially since Winston seems to ride better with the windows down a bit! The middle pic of the three Droolers might need a sentence or two as a guide. Can you see that the pound puppies are tethered to the car? That's the only way I can manage them at a rest area. At least, that way I know they can't go dashing off without dragging the PT Cruiser with them! And can you see that Duche$$ is trying to get back in the car, rather uncharacteristically on her own? She's finished her business...and apparently sees no reason to dilly-dally about any longer. Head 'em up, move 'em out!

While in GA, I had the opportunity to rekindle some relationships that had gone semi-dormant. We've been gone from the Peach State for almost three times as long as we lived there, but it felt like we were back in the fold in many ways. And that's a good thing.

Many of you have asked "so, where are you going to retire?" As we move through the Retirement Red Zone, we ask ourselves that very question, too. And my answer usually is somewhat vague, along the lines of "wherever Missy M lives." Now that our only child has moved to Georgia, I think we can change our response to a less-vague, more specific "why, Georgia, of course!"

That question and answer exchange is followed closely by "so, when do you see this happening?" Ah, now that's the $64,000 question. "Not any time soon!" is much too flippant. Our best answer...if asked today, Mr. T's birthday...is "probably 3-4 years from now." We shall see.

So renewing old friendships feels right. After all, we will need them in our once and future home.