
Nothing is more boring than talking about the weather: what it’s going to do, what it might do, what “they” said it was supposed to do and then never did. All of this prattling makes me crazy and doesn’t even count as small talk in my book. That said, The General takes a keen interest in all-things-weather and yet, strangely is rarely satisfied. He is, in fact, A Goldilocks for All Seasons. There are approximately three days during the year when he will admit to the weather being “not too bad” and suitable for whatever it is he needs to do.
I recently pointed out that although he complained hourly last winter about blowing snow, frigid temperatures (or, as the weather-nerds will have it, The Polar Vortex) as soon as the spring sun began to warm the earth and I tried to lure him outside to a sheltered, sunny nook on the deck, he shook his head rapidly, shocked, saying it was far too wet and besides, “they” had said it was going to turn cold again that night. In summer, of course, it’s usually too hot, dangerous even, to be in the garden for too long and where was that sunscreen/hat/protective eye wear anyway etc.

Disclaimer: Not one of my ancestors!
I’ve always had a dog. Crinkled family photos show well loved dogs owned by ancestors that I never even met. In my early married life, we had dogs in multiples – six at a time when we had a small acreage – so it has been strange and unsettling to have since endured an entire decade without any at all. The last dogs I had were Shar-Pei, exceptionally easy-going, companionable, intelligent and despite what you may have heard, ours were the very best with children. Sadly, we only had 7 years with The Incomparable ‘Hobson’ and once he and the others (‘Rose’, ‘Neon-Moon’) all passed away in quick succession after my husband’s departure, I had nothing left to give and no money for vet bills.

It’s been almost two months to the day since I cleared out my desk and began my (super early) retirement. I have purposefully not shared this information here because it is has been such a churning and peculiar adjustment, full of highs and lows, more than a few bracing 3 am walks around the hardwood floors but mostly, because I fear being judged as old and irrelevant, there I said it.