Late fall is one of my favourite times of year. Especially after we turn the clocks back. I love the fact that it gets dark earlier. There’s something so cosy about late afternoon this time of year. Hubby sets the fire and, from the darkening sunroom where I’ve been reading, I can hear the crackle of cedar kindling and smell the odd whiff of wood smoke that escapes as Hubby closes the door of the stove. I don’t stir until the sunroom is quite dark and Hubby snaps on the kitchen light as he begins chopping something for dinner. We’re in no hurry. We’re on retirement time.
Hubby and I always eat dinner late, and this time of year we often head out for an afternoon walk just as the sun starts to set. Our eyes adjust as the trail where we walk gets darker and darker. I especially love the days when we make something for dinner that needs to be slow-cooked in the oven. Coming home in the dark, all flushed from the cold, to the smell of dinner in the oven, then slipping into a hot bath, while Hubby sets the fire… what could be better? This scene only needs the addition of a bottle of dry red breathing on the counter and an episode of Poirot cued up on the PVR. Am I right? Or am I right? No marking for me tonight. Or any night. Ha.
Living on retirement time means that sometimes I stay awake long after midnight to finish my book. But that’s okay because, now that I’m retired, sleeping late is allowed. Or if I wake up very early, like on the morning below, when at 6:15 even the geese on the river were subdued as they awaited the dawn. Well, on those mornings, I can snap a picture, and scuttle back to bed. Bliss. When one is living on retirement time, going back to bed is always an option.
There is, however, one flaw in running on retirement time. It seems that I am now utterly incapable of leaving the house on time. Just when I thought I had conquered my innate inability to be punctual, I retired. I seem no longer able to predict either how long I will need to get ready or how long it will take to get somewhere. And now I am always late.
I dawdle and dither when I’m getting ready. I sometimes listen to my audiobook when I’m putting on my makeup and forget to keep up a decent pace. Or I stop with half-wet hair, hairbrush in one hand and blow-dryer in the other, to consult with Hubby about dinner. That’s his fault. He always interrupts me. But then he’s running on retirement time too.
Take yesterday for example. See that lady on the right in the photo below. The one in the glasses, blue sweater, and paisley scarf? That’s my longtime friend Eunice. I wrote about Eunice in a post two years ago. She was my very first mentor when I started teaching. In fact she’s seated at the table with many of the “girls” with whom I worked back in the eighties when I was a newbie teacher. These women are like family to me. Like sisters and aunts and even mothers. The lady in stripes at the head of the table is actually the same age as my mum. But I digress. Back to my story.
Yesterday Eunice and I were going out for lunch. But first I was heading to her house to see the photos of her recent two week trip to Morocco. Which, by the way, were fantastic. Anyhow, after changing two or three times, I finally hit on an outfit I liked. The changeover to boots this time of year usually means several outfit swaps and modifications. I’m not talking about wearing boots because I choose to wear boots because they go with an outfit. I mean wearing boots because they are necessary because, as of a few days ago, there’s snow on the ground. So outfits where I’d normally wear sneakers or loafers are a no go, and have to be rethought.
Luckily, on Friday, I’d factored outfit changes into my time allotment. I was almost ready and I was bang on time.
Then I decided to add a scarf. But which one? And where had I packed away my winter gloves? And then I needed a necklace of some sort on my black sweater. My new-ish silver chain would be perfect. But when it plopped out of its storage bag it was in knots. Now I needed my glasses. I couldn’t see the knots to untangle them, nor manage the tiny clasp, without my glasses. But where the heck were my glasses? I finally unearthed them in my purse where I had stuck them earlier for fear I’d forget them at home and might not be able to read the menu at the restaurant. Height of irony right there, folks.
By this time I was only a few minutes late. But as I sped up our short street, I met Hubby coming back from his first ski of the year. So I had to stop to confer about the state of the snow. And the state of his new skis. And of course dinner. We do an inordinate amount of consulting about dinner in our house. Sometimes this begins at breakfast. I’m serious. We spend more time talking about eating then we do actually eating. Ha.
And then I was away. “Leaving now. ETA 25 minutes,” I texted Eunice before I put the car in gear.
I was almost fifteen minutes late by the time I arrived. I know. That’s horrible. This is when running on retirement time is problematic, my friends.
But I have a possible solution. When we put the clocks back an hour in November, maybe those of us who are running on retirement time should put them back a half hour. That way we’ll always be a half hour ahead of everyone else. And we can maybe then be fifteen minutes early for things. Instead of fifteen minutes late.
Being a half hour out of sync with everyone else should be easy. We can pretend we live in Newfoundland. Ha.
For the uninitiated, Newfoundland is Canada’s newest and most easterly province. Newfoundland did not join Confederation until 1949. And it’s situated off the east coast of Canada, so far east that it needs its own time zone. When it’s 4 pm in Ontario which runs on eastern time, and 5pm in New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island which run on Atlantic time, it’s 5:30 in Newfoundland. Which runs on its own time. And in its own time. Newfoundland marches to the beat of a whole other drummer than the rest of Canada. Which is why we love it so much. It’s like Newfoundland has been on their own version of retirement time since forever.
I’m going to digress here for a bit to extol the virtues of Newfoundland. I have family in Newfoundland. A Sullivan uncle, aunt, and lots of cousins. And now, of course, the children and grandchildren of cousins. Hubby and I spent two lovely weeks in Newfoundland a few years ago.
We stayed several days in St. John’s with my Uncle Allie (my mum’s younger brother) and Aunt Dee Dee while Uncle Allie toured us around. At great speed. He’s exactly like my grandfather Sullivan is Uncle Allie. We saw all the sights, and even though Uncle Allie had just had eye surgery and was wearing a patch, he insisted on driving. I think Hubby was white-knuckling the dash of the truck most of the time as he watched the road nervously and chuckled at Uncle Allie’s stories. And there were lots of stories.
Newfoundland is a unique place. We followed caribou down the main highway after we disembarked from the ferry the evening we arrived. That was a bit surreal. We saw puffins at Bonavista. We ate fish and chips, and jiggs dinner, and moose burgers. And cod au gratin, a great favourite apparently, and pronounced cod-a-grattin by everyone except poncy people from Ontario. Ha. We attended the annual Fair in Elliston, the self-proclaimed root cellar capital of the world. And we saw stunning scenery. Although no icebergs, to my disappointment. And besides my family, who I must admit are pretty amazing, we met tons of the friendliest people we’ve ever met anywhere. Except Ireland.
And we hiked the Gros Morne Mountain Trail in Gros Morne National Park, up to what they call an “arctic-alpine plateau.” My first big hike ever: 17 km, 7-8 hours of hiking, lots of elevation, lots of sliding scree to stumble over and big rocks to scramble over. And a phenomenal view. We saw more caribou. And arctic ptarmigans.
And my new-ish hiking boots were killing me before we reached the top.
Bandaids, moleskin, folded kleenex under bandaids… nothing would help the burgeoning blisters. We tried stuffing moss down my socks to cushion my poor bony feet. And finally as a last resort, Hubby elected to wear the dastardly boots and give me his sneakers. His feet are almost the same size as mine. And with some moss wadded into the toes and a hard yank on the laces I was able to make his sneakers fit reasonably well. When I praise Hubby for making the sacrifice to wear the offending boots, he still says that it was better than carrying me. Ha.
Note the footwear in the photo below. Those hiking boots had been my Christmas gift from Hubby the year before and I was convinced that I had broken them in. Mistakenly, as I learned.
Anyway. I’d be quite happy to run on Newfoundland time any day. Hubby still laughs at the fact that I had to interpret for him the first few days we were in Newfoundland. Even my cousins speak with a strong Newfoundland accent. They have a dialect all their own in Newfoundland. Sounds almost Irish, but isn’t. And man, do they love to tell stories. No conversation is linear, no question answered without numerous misdirections. I felt right at home. Ha.
During my teaching career I was frequently grateful that I taught English and Creative Writing… and not Math or Science. English and Creative Writing allow for so many more non-sequiturs than a more lock-step curriculum. Teaching Macbeth allowed me to digress into a story about our trip to Scotland and visiting Cawdor Castle, for instance.
Digression being my favourite activity in teaching. As in life. Especially now that I’m retired and running on retirement time.
So how about you my friends? Do you run on retirement time? Are you a dawdler? Do things like choosing outfits and chatty husbands ever conspire to make you late?
51 thoughts on “Running on Retirement Time”
You need more staff Sue . Perhaps a ladiesmaid like on Downton ? Someone to have all your bits & pieces ready & hand them to you . I think maybe you have aristocratic blood in your veins . I seem to remember King Edward VIIās wife Alexandra was always late so the clocks at Sandringham were adjusted to keep her on time .
Newfoundland looks like my kind of place , even the name is magical . Big open vistas , seascapes , few people , interesting old towns plus weird & wonderful creatures . Scree is awful though , it takes no prisoners . Blistered feet on those rocks must have been horrendous & how kind of Stu to step into your shoes .
As to your last question , no Iām not a dawdler & , even if I was , Max would be snapping at my heels like a Yorkshire terrier . We invariably arrive early to places & I insist we wait nearby until itās time to arrive . He doesnāt do retirement time .
Yes… I need staff. Imagine having a ladies maid to do all the pressing and sewing buttons on and laying our clothes out. My mum did always say I used to look down my nose at people sometimes. But I think I was just distracted by dreaming of the book I was reading. Most of the time Stu is early just like Max… especially when we’re invited for diner or to a party. He thinks one should arrive early, I tell him that when they say seven o’clock they mean not before seven. He doesn’t agree. Ha. Also agree with the snapping at my heels metaphor. Or sitting in the car with the engine running thinking that will make me hurry. He doesn’t realize I AM hurrying. It’s only when I have to be somewhere on my own and I’m late that he forgets that I’m in a hurry and wants to chat.
I admit I struggle with being on time (except when flying where I insist on being at the airport an hour earlier than even the suggested time to arrive). Oddly I was born into a family that is always early for everything. I remember watching an episode of Oprah years ago where she had a behavioural psychologist on as a guest. He bluntly stated that anyone who is habitually late is self-involved and believes they are more important than the person they are meeting. Well, that stungā¦.Iāve thought of this so oftenā¦often when Iām arriving my standard 10 minutes lateš³. My problem I think is that I always underestimate how long tasks takeā¦.for example thinking I have time to maybe put a load of laundry on the line before I leave the house, or waiting til the last minute to shower and get ready before an event. At any rate Iām trying to be more punctual with varied success.
I love your description of your husband lighting the wood fire and getting dinner ready, so cozy. These little rituals are what get us thru the long winter arenāt they?
Ouch. That description is a little over the top. At least that’s the view of someone who always seems to struggle with being on time. Except for work… I was never late for work. But the last year before I retired I grew more and more lax, sometimes arriving at my classroom door just as the National Anthem was starting to play. I’m sure the kids were taking bets on when I’d not make it on time.
Love this post. Love your phrase of ārunning on retirement timeā. My first retirement phrase was āretirement is the best job Iāve ever hadā. A few months into retirement my favorite became āI donāt know what day it is and I donāt careā. Luckily things have gone smoothly in retirement and we manage to get where weāre supposed to be on the right day and within acceptable time. I look forward to reading your blog on Sunday mornings with my first cup of coffee. Thanks for being there.
Thanks, BJ. When Hubby first retired he began to wonder how he ever had time to work. Ha.
Love your posts, Sue. I will be retiring in July and am looking forward to running on retirement time. As someone who has always been habitually early, it will be interesting to see if my obsessive punctuality is somehow transformed! Hmmmmmā¦.
I have friends who are always on time, and usually early. That has not changed with retirement. Still knowing that the stakes are not as high when one is retired will be nice. Let us know how you get on. I’m sure it won’t feel as if you’re retired until the fall and everyone is back at work.
Iāve so enjoyed reading your post this morning and very amused by the parallels Iām able to draw with my own experience of retirement timekeeping and so on. I had to read it to āmy hubbyā because I needed to share with someone. Thank you Sue.
Ah, thanks, Christine. What a nice compliment.
Hi Sueā¦my name is Lynne.
I discovered your blog yesterday when coming across your wonderful story āGirl in green Max Mara coatā! I loved the coat, of course, why not, Iām Irish! But I also loved your way of putting together each outfit.
Now that Iāve signed up, I shall be checking in to read your stories as often as you write. I too am retired, I live for most of the year in Spain. Life is exciting and we are on permanent holidays living in sunshine.
Welcome, Lynne. I think my Irish grandfather would love my coat. Mum says that he painted everything green. His house, garage, the handles on all his tools. My uncles used to say that if Grampy needed a tool he’d visit one of their job sites, choose a tool, take it home, paint the handle green and claim it had belonged to him all along. But I think that’s just family lore. Hope you enjoy my posts going forward… sitting on your sunny Spanish terrace or balcony… says me slightly jealous as I look at our snow-covered lawn. Ha.
Are you getting the snow that the East coast is getting? Florida is just digging out/pumping out from a recent hurricane. Hope we don’t have another one for a while!Both my husband and me are retired so always running on retirement time. He always said he was going to do everything very slowly and certainly has. But then he always has been methodical. But the going back to bed is really nice and not making excuses to anyone about it! No justification at this point in life. Do what one wants! Happy Christmas
We’ve had two snow falls so far. Not much in either. Although enough for the ground to be well-covered so Hubby can ski.
My husband and I love retirement time, when restless nights cease to be sources of high anxiety and simply become next-day naps. We do manage somehow to be prompt for appointments, but please don’t ask how it’s going with the closet-clearing projects.
Your shoe-swapping tale reminded me of a trip to London in 2010. We met up with our daughter, who was traveling after graduating from college. I’d bought sensible boots, a reliable and familiar brand, for lots of walking. On our first trek out, after maybe a half hour of walking, I was stricken with a searing pain in the ball of my left foot, unlike anything I’d experienced. It was like stepping on the proverbial hot poker. Boots off, the pain magically evaporated. A couple of days later, touring the Tower of London, I foolishly tried them again (having added some cushioned inserts) with the same result (what’s that definition of insanity?). It got so bad I was whimpering audibly with every step, and I finally sent my husband and daughter on without me while I waited on a bench. A few minutes later they were back, my daughter insisting on trading her flats for my boots, never mind that her feet were a full size larger than mine and a size wide to my size narrow. There we sat on a bench in the Tower, baring our feet for all the passing tourists to behold, my bright blue (cerulean?) inserts flapping during the transition like a fish. How my daughter managed to walk in my boots and I in her oversized flats I can’t say, but the day was saved. After some research I later self-diagnosed my condition as Morton’s neuroma, and though I still have the boots, I wear them only if I know I’ll be walking a short distance and sitting a long time.
Those restless nights when one knew one had to get up early, attend a 7:30 AM meeting, then teach all day, and chair yet another meeting after school! Love that restless nights are not as worrying now. Unless one has a stressful day of shopping planned. Ha. My husband has a similar issue with a new pair of golf shoes. He could hardly walk after a game of golf in those shoes. Good thing your daughter was long-suffering.
Digression and retirement time is my life. Which is not a good thing. I am back to babysitting grandchildren whose parents need to be at work on time. Makes for some interesting mornings and crazy driving Grumma. My late Father in law used to have a saying about ‘Born tired and ain’t had time to rest.’ I always thought that described me. Oh well, all in good time. BTW, Newfoundland sounds wonderful, putting it on the bucket list.
Newfoundland is wonderful. The people, the scenery, so different from the rest of Canada.
I am retired tooā¦but I continue to be punctual and often too early for a meeting or an appointment. I blame it on my school career and timetableā¦still have and use a paper book daytimer.
Choosing the right scarf takes a long timeā¦I fixed this issue a few months ago by donating more than half my collection! Kept only my favouritesā¦no Hermes were sent away to new homes.
Retirement time for me is definitely a luxuryā¦going to bed when I am ready, getting up when I have had enough sleep, and taking as long as I want at the library or grocery store. No rushing.
Sounds like you and your husband have a lovely routine.
Just watched a movie āEdieā about an older woman hiking in Scotlandā¦quirky but quite sweet, itās on Netflix.
Enjoy your week.
My punctuality habit determined by my teaching schedule did not last much after retirement. Sadly. One of these days when we are forced to get a new TV we will probably break down and get NetFlix. My mum has it since they now use my sister’s TV but I find there is so much choice it’s dizzying.
I love the way your stories morph from retirement time to being late to your time in NFLD. Always an interesting read.
I still get up early. I like the quiet of early mornings. I love to watch the sun rise. And, Iām a terrible sleeper so there is that too.
Iām always on time to meet up ā¦or for an appointment. Sometimes even early. I think itās rude to be late when meeting friends or family. No offence intended. Years ago we had friends that were habitually late to dinner. When timing dinner, this can be problematic. My solution was to tell them to come a half hour early so they would arrive on time. It worked!
Yes…. my stories do morph don’t they. But as I was rushing to not be late to meet my friend I chuckled that if I lived in Newfoundland I’d be on time. And then Hubby and I started reminiscing about our trip… and a post was born, so to speak. š
Another lovely post. I so enjoy ātalking to youā on Sunday
One of the best features of retirement has been never setting the alarm clock! I purposely donāt make any appointments before 10:00 am. Relaxing with coffee in my pjs is a morning ritual I am loathe to give up.
I am super punctual and always waiting in the car for my husband. He eventually joins me, however, he ALWAYS has to go back into the house for something he forgot. He has many wonderful qualities though, so I try to overlook this one flaw!
For a few years Hubby tried waiting in the car for me. It didn’t help. Ha. I also never make appointments before 10:00. Unless it’s walking in the summer with my buddies and then I just have to pull on my sweats and a hat and sunglasses and I’m good to go.
I am on retirement time too!! But I have dialysis to be to three times a week!!! Bummer but praise the Lord I’m doing well after 27 years on dialysis!!! I’m not “normal” but I must use a walker to get around and taking a shower feels like running a marython for me now!! I’m just so thankful to be alive and have this time with my husband!! Our son is grown and married!!! He lives far away!! We have five grandchildren from them as well!!! I love this retired time in our life!!! We freguant the bookstore!!! My best friend is often 30 minutes late but is working on it!!! I’m mostly 15 minutes early!!! I was raised this way and I’ve just continued this way all my life!!! When dating my future husband this was something very important!!! He is also 15 early!!!! Funny what’s important to us in life!!! I love late Fall as well because in Arizona were just getting some cooler weather!!! So happy for this time of year!!!!!
Thank goodness that dialysis has worked so well for you for so long, Natalie. Your husband and family must also be grateful to have the time with you.
Running on retirement time… I love it! That’s a phrase I’m definitely going to adopt. Hubby loves to say that retirement is doing what you want to do when you want to do it. Don’t tell him, but I’ve ordered him a sweatshirt with that saying on it for Christmas!
We were in Newfoundland in 1991 and were hoping to go again this year. That didn’t pan out, but we really do want to go back. It’s such a beautiful and unique part of our country.
That’s why I never went back to work part time…. other people’s schedules. I did not want my last years in the classroom to be as a supply teacher. I cherish the memories of my classes. But daily work would not be as satisfying. Plus … there is the getting up early and being on time thing. Ha.
I always look forward to your blog being posted each week, Sue. Thank you! š¤
My Hubby and I are both ” on time” people. These days if someone is running late beyond their control, it is easy to send a courtesy text message to let them know. What did we use to do without cell phones? š¤
It can really throw off your day when you think you know exactly what you are going to wear. It can look great in the mirror the day before but when you put it, something can look off or not fit my mood for the day.
Thanks, Carolyn. I make good use of my cell phone for those “I’ll be ten minutes late” text messages.
I run on retirement time going to bed and getting up. It is wonderful to be able to loll in bed in the morning chatting to my cat. Things get done around the house on retirement time, but when I go out I am always at least on time if not early. I look forward to the times I share with my friends and family and don’t want to miss a moment.
Retirement … the best time of life. Do what you want on a relaxed schedule … and people send you cheques!!!
Lolling is one of the benefits of retirement. And… we get paid. Bonus!
ā Running on Retirement Timeā to me conjures up thoughts of endless relaxing days ā¦ lovely description Sue.
Iād say Iām punctual but my husband may disagree. Iām always early for appointments and have yet to miss a train or plane but my tendency to be somewhat ālast minuteā always results in his calling ā are you ready yet?ā Or even worse āhow long will you be?ā Even after all these years. My response is always the same ā¦ āIāll be as quick as I can be ā¦ and calling me doesnāt really helpā lol As Wendy mentions about Max ā¦ heāll be snapping at my heels! š
I still prefer to be up and out early and chill during the late afternoon if necessary.
I agree, knowing dinner is prepped and cooking in the slow cooker is such a great feeling, especially when out walking on a crisp and cool day ā¦
Enjoy your week Sue ā¦ Iām looking forward to a āgirlsā trip to London to celebrate my nieces 60th ( sheās more like a sister than a niece ) with my daughter and hers. So excited!
Rosie xx
Have a fabulous time on your trip to London, Rosie. That sounds like a fun time each of you with your girls. š
Big fan of retirement time here. I’m a night owl so it suits me to stay up late at night but then be able sleep-in in the morning or just lie in bed and read. After 40 years of teaching and my life moving to bells this is bliss. I am naturally a good time keeper and hate being late for anything. However hubby is not so good on the punctuality front so I have learned to sit in a chair and wait.
I love the idea of Newfoundland having it’s own time. Worth a visit if just for that oddity.
The bells, the bells… I don’t miss the bells either. Ha.
My career, court reporting, put me in the position of always having to be in court and set up, ready to go before the attorneys and the Judge. That training has made me pretty much impossible to change. However, I think I am beginning to “run on retirement time” too. My husband has always run that way, just a little behind, and maybe it’s his influence, but I’m finding myself getting diverted by outfit changes, unloading dishwashers that could have waited, etc., so I think I’m almost there!
I too love this blog and it is the hit of my Sunday!
Thanks, Eva. Court reporting must have been an interesting job. With a major incentive to be on time. I remember the panic I felt when stick in wintertime/accident/morning-rush-hour traffic. And the image of my grade nine class starting without me. Ha.
I am on a different retirement time – I like to be early in bed with a book, tea and the radio. Not out of necessity but just because I can. And so much on tv is uninteresting to me that there is little point in watching; I think I am literally retiring from things.
In winter I prefer to read in the living room beside the fire. Hubby in one corner watching the hockey game, me in the other reading.
This post! It sounds like my life. Iāve been laughing since I read it two hours ago. Thank you. Now I know Iām not the only one. My mother often told me, āYou were born two weeks late and youāve been late ever since.ā Before I retired I was executive assistant to the owner and president of a company. Very nice man. When I was habitually getting to the office at 8:30, instead of complaining about it he just changed my starting time to 9:00. (Like THAT was going to get me there on time. Well, it might have if he hadnāt told me.) Now I too am living on retirement. A lot of people said, āRetire! Why would you want to retire? What will you do with yourself? Youāre going to be sooooooo bored.ā Really? And here I was looking forward to adult education classes, my hobbies, lunch/shopping with friends, reading, gardening, and all those lovely distractions that nature and life offer that I didnāt have time for when I was working. And thereās always a nap if thereās time. Thereās so much to learn, explore, dabble in. And so many books to read. The Internet!ā¦..One thing leads to another, and another, and another, ā¦.
I canāt tell you how much I enjoy reading your blog. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us.
Your comment made me laugh, Patty. My mum used to say the exact same thing about me… I was late arriving and have been late ever since. I love how the combination of e-books, the internet, and our library website have me haring off down heretofore unknown rabbit holes. And retirement affords me the time to do that.
I love this post, Sue. The phrase “running on retirement time” is a great description. I, too, easily become distracted when getting ready to go out, and seem to never correctly estimate how long it will take me to get somewhere. I’m almost never obviously late, but certainly never early! Your photos and description of Newfoundland make me want to go there – I’ve only traveled in B.C. and Alberta, so this gives me another place to put on my list. It looks dreamy.
Newfoundland is a unique place. We keep saying we must go back. Then again, we say that about every place we visit and love.
Your description of your fall days looks so cozy,dreamy and hygge-ish…..
Planning transitional outfits can be very tricky. I have very sensitive feet as well-so,one never knows how old,broken in boots, will behave this year:some are too big,some too small……how to create an outfit in the circumstances? Wearing only one pair of lovely comfortable boots so far ,ha!
Hubby is a hero!
No,I’m not running on retirement time but sometimes there is a slow weekend when everything goes smoothly and slowly (like the last one)
Dottoressa
Here’s to smooth-running days and weekends! We keep hoping that a smooth few days means a smooth month. Ha.
Ha ha I’m still running on employment time, because I have to…but I will easily slide into retirement time. I’m a professional so I stick to my calendar. When I travel, too, I don’t risk missing plans, etc. When it’s just me, however, I’m not a naturally rigid person with time.
I read once that people who are naturally not in a rush to get anywhere are people who have difficulty with transitions. That describes me so well. When I’m doing something, whatever that might be: reading, chatting, enjoying the quiet in the morning, I dislike being disrupted from that.
And coincidentally…my grandmother was born in Newfoundland, so I have a soft spot for that place. That said, she was born there in 1912 while her father was an English chemistry professor working there, and then moved to Canada in 1919, so I suppose my relationship to Nfld is tenuous at best. I love it thought. I visited with my partner in 2018 and we had a blast. I found the house where my grandmother lived in St. John’s. I felt right at home. I am a person fond of digressions and a yarn. I’ve even thought of moving to Nfld in retirement, although the weather isn’t as friendly as the people!
My Italian partner says he’s “punctual,” but in my view he’s always on the edge of late or actually late. There must be some on time Italians, but I have never ever been to a concert in Italy (even in the big concert halls) that started on time. One time, in Florence, we were still waiting outside to go into the hall at the appointed time for the concert. Everyone was milling about, chatting, drinking coffee, etc. I had to explain to G that when we attend concerts at the National Arts Centre that when they start flashing the lights it means you have to leave the bathroom and go into the hall. And they WILL close the doors and not let you in until a break between movements. He finds that rather uncivilized. š
Oops – a couple of typos and errors in there. Forgive the spontaneity!
You are right, Steph, about the weather in Newfoundland not being as friendly as the people. I still remember my uncle telling us about icebergs in the bay in summer time when I was a kid. I love that description of people who are habitually late. I have trouble tearing myself away from what I’m doing when I should be getting ready. Especially if I’m enjoying a book and my second cup of tea. š
Aww I love this. I canāt wait to live on retirement time! I switched to part time teaching this year and itās a wonderful step in the right direction. Your cozy days with your hubby sounds just like what we dream of when we plan our retirement. Thanks for the inspo!
Oxox
Dawn Lucy
I went part time the year before I retired. It was a great way to ease into retirement.
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