Seasons...
Well, I’m looking forward for spring, but when I woke up this morning and opened the door to go feed the cats and give Son #2’s dog food, whose name is “Bounce a Little,” but it takes quite a lot to feed him. I have to watch, or the cats wouldn’t get a bite!
I enjoy fall and winter when Santa comes, but spring is my favorite.

The Last Word: I enjoy them all! – O.T.

The View From Here

Nothing is certain except change
I can plan all day and night, and put tons of energy into said plans only to watch them go away in a flash.
Planning is something I used to do like a science project. I made lists of lists and notes of notes. I had huge calendars with plans down to the hour.
These days I am lucky to even know what day it really is, much less the actual date. I have a small calendar I can barely read. Just going day to day is enough already. I try to not schedule anything further than a few days or a week in advance.
It has taken me a long time to conclude that I can’t be sure my plans will work out even if I make them. Nothing is carved in stone except our name, date of birth and date of death.
Flexibility is necessary to attain even a little bit of happiness. If we spend each moment looking for perfection, we are going to know one thing for sure, and that is we will be disappointed.
There is no perfect woman and no perfect man. With that said, there are no perfect children, relatives or friends either. Nobody is perfect, and once it is realized, things get so much easier.
When the daytimers came out, I had to buy one. It had everything in it and zipped closed. I noted everything in it from addresses to phone numbers, e-mails, appointments, things to do, and waited for my life to go as planned.
After about two years of struggling with this super “to do” gadget, I put it in the dumpster on my way into the office. I felt free, and still get by just fine without it. I always feel wistful when somebody in a movie throws his or her cell phone into the breeze while riding on a Harley motorcycle or sitting in a convertible. It makes me want to do it, too.
Taking one day at a time is a much easier way to live. Canceling the cable television has been easier than I thought it would be for me. I did not watch all those channels anyway.
Simplification is my plan for this spring and summer. I cleaned out my closet and gave half of it away. I can see what I have to wear, and who needs 30 pairs of jeans anyway.
I am not planning anything at all. There is no summer vacation plan, nor is there any other type of plan. I am just going to take it all in, enjoy what I can, deal with what I cannot, and go from there.
The plan is to smile more, laugh often, and enjoy everything as much as possible.

Marital advice for retired couples
Someone has suggested writing a book for younger married women who will be lucky enough to retire at similar times with that beloved husband. The two of you in a long marriage will be in the kitchen together, other rooms and the most-used automobile more than ever before. I adore mankind, especially the one I promised to love and cherish for as long as we both shall live. Think of the embarrassment, the trouble, and awkwardness to the children and friends if your marriage collapses after, say, forty or more years. It happens.
The book needing to be written will not be for all men, but many of their friends, helping some wives cope with a new kind of life. And I begin. If your husband has never been a good listener, he will become worse. And after you tell him something important, sometime later he will accuse you of never telling him the information in the first place.
Usually not shutting a drawer or cabinet door will become a “not ever,” worsening with the years.
Since employment is no longer part of the day, he may wear anything, anywhere, and not care. Jeans can have holes, not the trendy kind but those from battery acid or bleach or tears going under or over a fence. Your man will not see these holes; if he does, he may say, “Who Cares?” You won’t matter, and if a free meal is offered as he wears this attire, you find it really doesn’t matter. Crying on your part makes this retired person angry. He recognizes it as a ploy even if it isn’t.
Little negative habits not really noticed before become more noticeable and offensive, such as his driving faster to an event he wants to see and poking to your event. Your driving with him in the passenger seat will bring a tirade of reckless occurrences, all your fault. Yet, when the retired man gets behind the wheel, he does your driving no-no’s plus those of his own. If you comment, you have started a battle of words that won’t end until family members are brought in by name. Just don’t say anything until you have to, “You passed where we were supposed to turn,” and get ready for being told you should have reminded him but....
In retirement, I repeat, anything a man has ever done in annoyance only becomes a bigger swell in the wife’s brain - mainly the dropping of items to the floor where he sits, stands, or lies on the couch. Let it go or play a broken record. Ask yourself, “Is this important enough or dangerous enough for me to comment and stir up the water?” Usually this rule will help the marriage beyond your imagination: The wife should shut her mouth, talking only when absolutely necessary, such as “the phone’s for you.”
For some odd reason (consciousness), the wife’s habits now more easily seen probably don’t draw a negative remark every time. The first one from hubby I noticed when we were both in the kitchen simultaneously was, “Have you always done this that way?” A battle of our shortcomings erupted. It was not pretty.
Now we can watch television together, ride together, eat out nicely, and attend places as a couple. Because if I try to limit myself to no more than 30 words, I don’t hear the complaint of “always nagging.” Nagging has no positive effect, probably never did. Keep those lips together.
PS: One of the children who probably really knows, says I have AADHS or Adult Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Syndrome, developing it with motherhood. I argued only briefly about the “H.” There’s been little hyperactivity since the year 2000. And if I have AADS, so does my spouse. He and stop-intended red lights have furious play outs. Why, I use the time to make a list of some kind. Obviously we were made for one another. Or we’re staying together for the children (all in their forties).