Driving back from afternoon errands, I saw a sign on a church that said "Gratitude is a choice." Hmm. Is it? Maybe it's a choice to notice things for which to be grateful, but that sentiment is kind of hard to read at 40 mph. In any case, it seems like as good a time as any to start this year's list. This is not necessarily in priority order, by the way.
. Clean underwear and socks, whenever I want them.
. Big non-leaking roof and a warm bed.
. Enough food always.
. A loving and devoted husband.
. Two great cats, one of whom takes new courageous steps every day.
. All the intellectual challenges I could want, but only when I want them.
. Good health.
. Not having to work. (oh yes!)
. Amazing friends of all stripes, from all walks of life, people whom I've known forever and some of whom I've known for not that long. People whom I can count on. People who can count on me.
. Art museums.
. Good music.
. Dance.
. Swimming and walking (currently aiming for a mile swim or a three-to-five-mile walk six days out of seven).
. Great neighbors.
. Fun places to visit and travel to and the world's best travel companion.
. Beauty all around.
. Compassion in a world that can always use more.
. The ability to learn.
. Options and more options in life.
. Knowing that I am worthy of being loved (thank you, Mark)
. The quality of light at the end of the day, coming earlier now, soon to edge its way later into the afternoon and evening.
. Laughter. Tears. Usually more of the former than the latter.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Thanksgiving plans
My dear sweet aunt wrote to me weeks ago when, admittedly, we had no plans for Thanksgiving, to invite us to join the festivities in Manhattan. I wrote back and said that we were unable to attend and expressed the hope that we would all have joyous Thanksgivings. Quietly, I thought that even if Robert and I ate Thanksgiving dinner by ourselves, we'd be content with the peace and quiet.
Four local invitations later, we've had to start saying "thanks, but we can't attend."
On Thursday, we'll journey through the wilds of several towns to celebrate with a collection of friends. Robert and I are relative newcomers to the group but we are now considered "regulars." Our hostess allows us to bring contributions to the meal, though nothing we cook comes up to the high bar that she sets.
On Friday, we'll celebrate Thanksgiving with another set of friends. We may be the only guests without children, though now of course, all the kids are at least of college age. One of the offspring has a Thursday conflict, so his family has graciously moved their celebration to the following day, which means that other families and Robert and I can join in.
On Saturday, we'll go to a contra dance where, through the gifts of music, dance, and acquired family, we'll all have the opportunity to heal from various Thanksgiving traumas, past and present. Saturday night, we'll have a sleepover with a friend and enjoy brunch with him on Sunday.
So it's looking like a very nice weekend to come with lots of good celebrations and good company.
Four local invitations later, we've had to start saying "thanks, but we can't attend."
On Thursday, we'll journey through the wilds of several towns to celebrate with a collection of friends. Robert and I are relative newcomers to the group but we are now considered "regulars." Our hostess allows us to bring contributions to the meal, though nothing we cook comes up to the high bar that she sets.
On Friday, we'll celebrate Thanksgiving with another set of friends. We may be the only guests without children, though now of course, all the kids are at least of college age. One of the offspring has a Thursday conflict, so his family has graciously moved their celebration to the following day, which means that other families and Robert and I can join in.
On Saturday, we'll go to a contra dance where, through the gifts of music, dance, and acquired family, we'll all have the opportunity to heal from various Thanksgiving traumas, past and present. Saturday night, we'll have a sleepover with a friend and enjoy brunch with him on Sunday.
So it's looking like a very nice weekend to come with lots of good celebrations and good company.
Friday, November 19, 2010
first commitment
On leaving my job, a lot of time suddenly freed up. I've worried that other people will see that time as a juicy opportunity - for them or for their organizations. My time could get eaten up very quickly if I let it.
Aside from getting substantial exercise every day, seeing friends, and cooking dinner, I've hesitated to jump into other time or heart commitments. I'm trying to avoid a "rebound" relationship with work, disappointing myself and others.
I've been going through the process of signing up for one piece of volunteer work, mostly because it's with an organization that does something important, takes its work very seriously, and is well organized.
The time commitment is eight days of classes plus the time need to pass a test, and working a minimum of four hours a week over a ten week period. The job is preparing taxes for low and middle income people through the AARP tax aide program - me and about 40,000 other volunteers. If you know me very well, now would an appropriate time to laugh - I'll wait.
The joke is that I've never prepared a tax return in my life. I'm not too worried about learning the ins and outs; I've learned very hard things before. I'll struggle for a while and absorb the information I need.
My local coordinator said just last night that the challenge comes in dealing with each person asking for help, and I suspect I'll be ok with that. After all, for years I was a technical writer charged with convincing people all over the Asperger's spectrum to give me information. I had to translate that information into something helpful to a person who was desperate (desperate enough to read the documentation) and pissed off, not necessarily in that order.
It sounds like there's a lot of support for newbies. In my first year, assuming I'll like it enough to go for a second year, I'll be more of an assistant to experienced tax preparers. I may get some easy returns thrown in my direction, but they'll be checked by a colleague. As I develop confidence in my abilities, I'll be allowed to take on more difficult work. It's likely that I'll work in several towns, just to get a flavor for the town-specific issues that come up.
I'm also thinking that a lot of this work will happen in the dark of winter. Now that I can see the outdoors during a lot of the day, I'll be noticing just how dark it is during our chilly times. I figure that getting out and about will be good for me.
So that's my first cautious step into the world post-work. I've had some other ideas, but those will have to wait until I'm more ready for a greater commitment.
Aside from getting substantial exercise every day, seeing friends, and cooking dinner, I've hesitated to jump into other time or heart commitments. I'm trying to avoid a "rebound" relationship with work, disappointing myself and others.
I've been going through the process of signing up for one piece of volunteer work, mostly because it's with an organization that does something important, takes its work very seriously, and is well organized.
The time commitment is eight days of classes plus the time need to pass a test, and working a minimum of four hours a week over a ten week period. The job is preparing taxes for low and middle income people through the AARP tax aide program - me and about 40,000 other volunteers. If you know me very well, now would an appropriate time to laugh - I'll wait.
The joke is that I've never prepared a tax return in my life. I'm not too worried about learning the ins and outs; I've learned very hard things before. I'll struggle for a while and absorb the information I need.
My local coordinator said just last night that the challenge comes in dealing with each person asking for help, and I suspect I'll be ok with that. After all, for years I was a technical writer charged with convincing people all over the Asperger's spectrum to give me information. I had to translate that information into something helpful to a person who was desperate (desperate enough to read the documentation) and pissed off, not necessarily in that order.
It sounds like there's a lot of support for newbies. In my first year, assuming I'll like it enough to go for a second year, I'll be more of an assistant to experienced tax preparers. I may get some easy returns thrown in my direction, but they'll be checked by a colleague. As I develop confidence in my abilities, I'll be allowed to take on more difficult work. It's likely that I'll work in several towns, just to get a flavor for the town-specific issues that come up.
I'm also thinking that a lot of this work will happen in the dark of winter. Now that I can see the outdoors during a lot of the day, I'll be noticing just how dark it is during our chilly times. I figure that getting out and about will be good for me.
So that's my first cautious step into the world post-work. I've had some other ideas, but those will have to wait until I'm more ready for a greater commitment.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
yep, it's fall
We've been burning wood for a few weeks now, though not as steadily as we do in colder months. But with the passing of Halloween, we've finally locked down the windows and turned on the heat.
Today, I noticed that the squirrels have lived up to their winter mandate. In place of our sleek backyard acrobats, we now have miniature grey groundhogs with fluffy tails. I could swear that they're moving a little more slowly than usual, and certainly not as gracefully.
A few years ago, we planted a witch hazel tree. Because it's young, it hangs onto its leaves a little bit longer than most of the surrounding trees. With recent winds and today's rain, most of the leaves are now on the ground. In their place are the most delicate spidery yellow flowers, completely covering the tree.
It's fall. The cats sit at the windows, trying to make sense of the changes happening outside. The changes continue, revealing little to our resident felines.
Today, I noticed that the squirrels have lived up to their winter mandate. In place of our sleek backyard acrobats, we now have miniature grey groundhogs with fluffy tails. I could swear that they're moving a little more slowly than usual, and certainly not as gracefully.
A few years ago, we planted a witch hazel tree. Because it's young, it hangs onto its leaves a little bit longer than most of the surrounding trees. With recent winds and today's rain, most of the leaves are now on the ground. In their place are the most delicate spidery yellow flowers, completely covering the tree.
It's fall. The cats sit at the windows, trying to make sense of the changes happening outside. The changes continue, revealing little to our resident felines.
Monday, November 01, 2010
vacation 2010 - New Mexico
My last day of work was Thursday Sept 30. The next Saturday, we were at the airport bright and early to start a ten-day vacation. We went to northern New Mexico. From the beginning, we were already thinking about our next trip out to that area.
We started in the tiny town of Ojo Caliente, where there is a hot springs resort. The resort has been there for decades but has recently been updated, probably with new ownership. We stayed in the "historic hotel" section, where we had a bathroom in our room and used the showers associated with the hot springs. Each guest is issued a robe, which many people wear around the tiny grounds. It's all very casual and equalizing. Some guests look like they just came out of the mountains and some look like they breathe money.
The springs themselves have several pools ranging in temperature and mineral content. One set of pools is under a cliff, which is dramatically lit at night. When in Rome, etc etc, so we also got massages. Mine was very good. I later ran into the aunt and uncle of my massage therapist; she apparently recently switched her career from being an opera singer. She's very talented.
Oh, and the on-site restaurant was extremely good - fresh, inventive New Mexican cuisine. We spent some quiet time sitting in rocking chairs on the hotel's porch and sitting in Adirondack chairs inside the pool area. It was good to just "be" for a few days after the intensity of my last weeks at work.
We also hiked a few times, up into the hills above the resort, onto a site containing potshards from centuries ago, then into the tiny town, where we talked to a transplant from Baltimore who was full of pepper and vim.
On our way to our next stop, we headed over to Ghost Ranch at Abiquiu, where Georgia O'Keefe did so much of her work. The saying goes that she didn't exaggerate the landscape, she understated it. Two years ago, we'd arrived at Ghost Ranch just when the museums were closing and vowed to return. This time, we arrived on a Monday when the museums are closed, so we'll need to go back again. (None of the museums contain Miss O'Keefe's works.) Instead of heading indoors, we hiked for a few hours and admired the scenery. Back down on flatter ground, we admired a group of painters en plein air under a huge tree, set up as if they were transplanted from 100 years ago.
We checked into our hotel in Santa Fe, the same place we stayed two years ago. We ended up in a "casita," literally a tiny house, complete with living room, bedroom, kitchen (which we barely used), and bathroom. We also had bed and breakfast privileges and enjoyed talking to the other guests. On our last day there, I finally asked if the manager had been part of a singing duo; turns out he was. It was a group I saw many times, both in Boston and in California. He and his ex-partner both live in Santa Fe and are still good friends.
While in Santa Fe, we went to museums:
On our way to Albuquerque, we stopped off in the little village of Madrid (emphasis on the first syllable) and met up with friends Dan and Alison. Unfortunately, Madrid, which is filled with cute little shops, has been discovered (!). Just before we got there, a huge bus of elderly tourists arrived and was letting off its passengers as we were parking. The motorcyclists were in town, and so were people taking a break from the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta. The town was jammed, so we poked around a little, ate a late lunch, and headed down the road.
We ended up at a strange little place called Tinkertown, the vision of one man who carved, collected various stuff, arranged it all, created tiny villages with moving parts, collected more stuff, made more signs, and so on. The man eventually died young of Alzheimer's but his little place lives on, thanks to his children.
We checked into our hotel, then had a lovely evening with Dan and Alison around their back yard firepit.
The next day, we planned to go downtown, but ended up enjoying the Petroglyph park. We went to two parts of it. It's an odd place, really several small parks under one umbrella. To get to the second part, you drive past many strip malls and park behind one containing a Mexican (not NM) one-off fast-food place and an oil change garage. We walked for miles and enjoyed spotting the petroglyphs; there are very few clues about where each is, so you just have to keep your eyes open.
For our last night, we headed back to Dan and Alison's and went to a sweet dinner party where we sat outside and ate informally. The food was delicious and the conversation fun. Dan's son, like his dad, went to the college I went to and was home for the weekend. It was great hearing about his experiences and telling him about some of ours.
Good trip. Great travel companion as always. Lots of walking, art opportunities, great food. For our next venture to that area, we want to concentrate more on the four corners area, where Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico come together.
We started in the tiny town of Ojo Caliente, where there is a hot springs resort. The resort has been there for decades but has recently been updated, probably with new ownership. We stayed in the "historic hotel" section, where we had a bathroom in our room and used the showers associated with the hot springs. Each guest is issued a robe, which many people wear around the tiny grounds. It's all very casual and equalizing. Some guests look like they just came out of the mountains and some look like they breathe money.
The springs themselves have several pools ranging in temperature and mineral content. One set of pools is under a cliff, which is dramatically lit at night. When in Rome, etc etc, so we also got massages. Mine was very good. I later ran into the aunt and uncle of my massage therapist; she apparently recently switched her career from being an opera singer. She's very talented.
Oh, and the on-site restaurant was extremely good - fresh, inventive New Mexican cuisine. We spent some quiet time sitting in rocking chairs on the hotel's porch and sitting in Adirondack chairs inside the pool area. It was good to just "be" for a few days after the intensity of my last weeks at work.
We also hiked a few times, up into the hills above the resort, onto a site containing potshards from centuries ago, then into the tiny town, where we talked to a transplant from Baltimore who was full of pepper and vim.
On our way to our next stop, we headed over to Ghost Ranch at Abiquiu, where Georgia O'Keefe did so much of her work. The saying goes that she didn't exaggerate the landscape, she understated it. Two years ago, we'd arrived at Ghost Ranch just when the museums were closing and vowed to return. This time, we arrived on a Monday when the museums are closed, so we'll need to go back again. (None of the museums contain Miss O'Keefe's works.) Instead of heading indoors, we hiked for a few hours and admired the scenery. Back down on flatter ground, we admired a group of painters en plein air under a huge tree, set up as if they were transplanted from 100 years ago.
We checked into our hotel in Santa Fe, the same place we stayed two years ago. We ended up in a "casita," literally a tiny house, complete with living room, bedroom, kitchen (which we barely used), and bathroom. We also had bed and breakfast privileges and enjoyed talking to the other guests. On our last day there, I finally asked if the manager had been part of a singing duo; turns out he was. It was a group I saw many times, both in Boston and in California. He and his ex-partner both live in Santa Fe and are still good friends.
While in Santa Fe, we went to museums:
- The Georgia O'Keefe museum had an exhibit on materials that went into paintings. Many of the paintings were accompanied by sketches and photographs. There was a small exhibit of paint brushes and paints. And there was a gorgeous exhibit of photographs of the artist by famous photographers who visited her in Abiquiu.
- The Museum of Contemporary Indian Arts was interesting, though not quite what I had expected. It will be good to revisit it when their second floor opens.
- The Wheelright Museum of the American Indian is displaying a beautiful, moving exhibit of Master Weavers of the Toadlena/Two Grey Hills Region, an area famous for its woven rugs. The rugs were presented in chronological order, showing the development of the technique. Downstairs is a recreation of an old trading post that contains beautiful contemporary and historical work for sale. It feels like a continuation of the museum's collection except that you can buy everything there. Prices range from a few dollars to a few thousands and beyond.
- Barbara Bowles photographs old rusty trucks. Sounds boring, but in her hands, the results are beautiful. We bought a third photograph to add to our tiny collection.
- Delores Nieto is a jeweler who lives on the Santo Domingo pueblo. I've bought several pieces from her over the years. This time I saw a bracelet I liked and asked her to make a necklace for me, which she did.
- Robert's uncle and aunt came into town and swept us away for a long visit - great to see them.
- We of course saw GrandMarvin, Robert's 102-year-old grandfather. His hearing and physical abilities aren't too great, but we did take him outside for a while, had some nice chats with him, heard stories, shared a meal, and even went to a religious service with him.
- We saw my dear old friend Grace, whom I met just before I went off to college (a story for another time), then knew at college. I'd last seen her 30 years ago on my round-the-country adventure. She's happily and lengthily married to a great guy. We had a wonderful evening together in her beautiful, art-filled house.
- With Robert's uncle, we went up to Los Alamos and wandered around the science museum. I was especially struck by the movie, which had some rather thought-provoking moments, and by an oral history project consisting of photos and stories about people who worked in Los Alamos during the war. Because Robert's uncle has lived in the town since 1950, it was especially poignant to be there with him.
- We visited Bandelier National Monument and Valles Caldera, a preserve on its way to being a park. Bandelier is a 30s-style park based around cliff dwellings of native people. It's actually fascinating, but the park gets in the way a little bit. I suspect that today, it would be designed differently. Valles Caldera has only recently come into government hands. It's a 15-mile wide volcanic caldera, with cones in the middle that look for all the world like those rocky, tree-lined islands that jut out of the ocean in Maine. There are also huge elk herds. We got close enough to see one such herd with the naked eye, but we were still pretty far away.
- We went back to Abiquiu for artist's open studios. While there, we bumped into an art collector from Santa Fe, who clued us into the best studios to visit. We visited a man we saw on the last trip, someone who lives in the tiny village of Abiquiu and maintains a gallery in his living room. We had a good long talk with him. Robert bought a painting; I bought a necklace that he had bought from a lady trying to raise cash. We also bought some pottery - six beautiful bowls by a guy who's been working in clay for forty years. Before that, he studied (and taught?) philosophy.
On our way to Albuquerque, we stopped off in the little village of Madrid (emphasis on the first syllable) and met up with friends Dan and Alison. Unfortunately, Madrid, which is filled with cute little shops, has been discovered (!). Just before we got there, a huge bus of elderly tourists arrived and was letting off its passengers as we were parking. The motorcyclists were in town, and so were people taking a break from the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta. The town was jammed, so we poked around a little, ate a late lunch, and headed down the road.
We ended up at a strange little place called Tinkertown, the vision of one man who carved, collected various stuff, arranged it all, created tiny villages with moving parts, collected more stuff, made more signs, and so on. The man eventually died young of Alzheimer's but his little place lives on, thanks to his children.
We checked into our hotel, then had a lovely evening with Dan and Alison around their back yard firepit.
The next day, we planned to go downtown, but ended up enjoying the Petroglyph park. We went to two parts of it. It's an odd place, really several small parks under one umbrella. To get to the second part, you drive past many strip malls and park behind one containing a Mexican (not NM) one-off fast-food place and an oil change garage. We walked for miles and enjoyed spotting the petroglyphs; there are very few clues about where each is, so you just have to keep your eyes open.
For our last night, we headed back to Dan and Alison's and went to a sweet dinner party where we sat outside and ate informally. The food was delicious and the conversation fun. Dan's son, like his dad, went to the college I went to and was home for the weekend. It was great hearing about his experiences and telling him about some of ours.
Good trip. Great travel companion as always. Lots of walking, art opportunities, great food. For our next venture to that area, we want to concentrate more on the four corners area, where Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico come together.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
quick crafts project
1. At Costco, buy a supersized jar of organic strawberry jam.
2. At home, open the jar and pour it into half-pint jelly jars.
3. Affix a cute sticker (it could say Strawberry, 2010)
4. For full effect, tie a sweet ribbon around the jar.
5. Give as gifts.
The jam really is that good, probably better then what I occasionally make.
But no, nuh-uh, I've never tried this trick on my friends.
2. At home, open the jar and pour it into half-pint jelly jars.
3. Affix a cute sticker (it could say Strawberry, 2010)
4. For full effect, tie a sweet ribbon around the jar.
5. Give as gifts.
The jam really is that good, probably better then what I occasionally make.
But no, nuh-uh, I've never tried this trick on my friends.
Friday, October 01, 2010
the day arrived!
Yesterday was my last day at work. I finished packing and cleaning my office. I took care of my last small action items for my boss. I went to my exit interview, which was one of the most honest and kind events of that ilk that I've gone to (when it's even occurred. Oh - at IBM it involved my then-boss filling out an electronic form on my behalf, supplying the answers she thought would be best).
I had lunch with a new friend, then made my rounds to say goodbye. I will admit that there were moments when I thought "Am I nuts? This is such a nice place" but reason quickly took hold. It helped that nearly everyone said they were jealous, told me of their own retirement plans, or were just plain supportive.
I finally made it to my boss' office. We had a nice long friendly chat. I handed over my badge and my security fob and my laptop and gave him a short letter I wrote yesterday morning to let him know how thankful I've been for his kindness.
As I write these words, I think of another friend who was recently shoved out of her job. She went through similar rituals when she left (the card, the cake, the chat with the boss), which left her understandably pissed off. The same motions, vastly different results.
Today is a typical Friday - no work. Except I'm also not able to check in on work email. Things will get busy later. Speaking of which, I'm off to swim, then prepare for our vacation which starts tomorrow. On the agenda for Sunday, massages for two! Then, driving, hiking, looking at art, and meeting nice people. More later.
I had lunch with a new friend, then made my rounds to say goodbye. I will admit that there were moments when I thought "Am I nuts? This is such a nice place" but reason quickly took hold. It helped that nearly everyone said they were jealous, told me of their own retirement plans, or were just plain supportive.
I finally made it to my boss' office. We had a nice long friendly chat. I handed over my badge and my security fob and my laptop and gave him a short letter I wrote yesterday morning to let him know how thankful I've been for his kindness.
As I write these words, I think of another friend who was recently shoved out of her job. She went through similar rituals when she left (the card, the cake, the chat with the boss), which left her understandably pissed off. The same motions, vastly different results.
Today is a typical Friday - no work. Except I'm also not able to check in on work email. Things will get busy later. Speaking of which, I'm off to swim, then prepare for our vacation which starts tomorrow. On the agenda for Sunday, massages for two! Then, driving, hiking, looking at art, and meeting nice people. More later.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
penultimate day
Yesterday, my antepenultimate day at work, I actually blew through (no, I did not "blow off") a large amount of work, with the hopes of leaving my colleagues in very good shape after I'm gone.
Today was my next-to-last-day at work. It hardly seems real, but off I go. My team (really my boss with team in attendance) organized a lunch with cake on the side. Everyone had signed a card and my boss had picked out a few small but meaningful gifts for me. (One is a little hand-painted glass bubble that says "Follow your bliss." What a little treasure.)
I was so touched by these small gestures, in part because my boss just got back from a business trip to Europe and on Monday was barely awake enough to make it through the day. And yet, he found the time to do a little shopping and he was extremely thoughtful about it to boot. I feel appreciated.
I've mentioned to a few people that it is my goal to "go out on top," to leave them wanting more. I'd be mortified to think that for my last job especially, anyone would be thinking "couldn't she have gone sooner?" I think I've succeeded in that goal. People have said they don't know what they'll do without me - very kind. I believe they'll be just fine. I feel like I've contributed but others will also contribute after I'm gone.
Tomorrow, I finish packing and cleaning my office. Former boss Tom Parmenter's words ring in my head: "Always leave a clean camp-site." I'll say my goodbyes and take my leave and go off to the next adventure, including a nice vacation. We travel on Saturday and have massages scheduled for Sunday, a fitting start to whatever lies ahead.
Today was my next-to-last-day at work. It hardly seems real, but off I go. My team (really my boss with team in attendance) organized a lunch with cake on the side. Everyone had signed a card and my boss had picked out a few small but meaningful gifts for me. (One is a little hand-painted glass bubble that says "Follow your bliss." What a little treasure.)
I was so touched by these small gestures, in part because my boss just got back from a business trip to Europe and on Monday was barely awake enough to make it through the day. And yet, he found the time to do a little shopping and he was extremely thoughtful about it to boot. I feel appreciated.
I've mentioned to a few people that it is my goal to "go out on top," to leave them wanting more. I'd be mortified to think that for my last job especially, anyone would be thinking "couldn't she have gone sooner?" I think I've succeeded in that goal. People have said they don't know what they'll do without me - very kind. I believe they'll be just fine. I feel like I've contributed but others will also contribute after I'm gone.
Tomorrow, I finish packing and cleaning my office. Former boss Tom Parmenter's words ring in my head: "Always leave a clean camp-site." I'll say my goodbyes and take my leave and go off to the next adventure, including a nice vacation. We travel on Saturday and have massages scheduled for Sunday, a fitting start to whatever lies ahead.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
more on next steps
Q: Why leave your job if it's decent, the people are pleasant, and you enjoy the work?
A: Because life is short. When I'm lying on my death bed, I can't imagine thinking "gee, I'm so glad I worked those extra years." But I can imagine thinking "I'm glad I read more books, played with the cats, went to museums, and saw my friends."
A: Because life is short. When I'm lying on my death bed, I can't imagine thinking "gee, I'm so glad I worked those extra years." But I can imagine thinking "I'm glad I read more books, played with the cats, went to museums, and saw my friends."
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
tap tap tap - is this thing on?
Can you hear me out there?
I didn't realize it had been an entire year since I last posted. I've been quiet lately because I've been working on a project. Today we told my team at work about it, so I can now talk more freely about it, including here.
In a few weeks, I'm leaving the work force. I have no idea what's next, if anything. Certainly some short-term things, like a vacation. Then, more swimming, and I hope to redevelop the habit of reading books (yes, on paper) and write more. Perhaps visit some museums. I'm honestly not sure what's next, but I'm planning to listen very very carefully to all the signals.
Onward!
I didn't realize it had been an entire year since I last posted. I've been quiet lately because I've been working on a project. Today we told my team at work about it, so I can now talk more freely about it, including here.
In a few weeks, I'm leaving the work force. I have no idea what's next, if anything. Certainly some short-term things, like a vacation. Then, more swimming, and I hope to redevelop the habit of reading books (yes, on paper) and write more. Perhaps visit some museums. I'm honestly not sure what's next, but I'm planning to listen very very carefully to all the signals.
Onward!
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