Getting ready for the next big step in loving me, too.
Retirement is coming, and it’s gonna be a ball.
Not the kind of ball Cinderella went to, or the Marine Corps Ball my parents went to when I was a kid. Not a volleyball that I really enjoyed in college, but it might hurt my hands now, unless they have Nerf volleyball for seniors.
Wait a minute. I’m not really a senior. Am I? I don’t feel like a senior. Okay, I am 60, and I am tired more than I used to be… Oh, let’s not go there.
Let’s go back to the ball! For me, having a ball is going to be writing, painting (both art and walls of my little urban cottage) puttering around the yard as I sculpt mother nature just a tad, and naps! I love naps. That would have sounded boring to me 30 or 40 years ago, before I had kids, but ever…
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