|Oliver has found V's knitting basket.|
Husband and I are back to walking an hour and a half or more each early morning and sometimes in the evening - after his cocktail settles in. Surprisingly, retirement is even busier than when we both worked (and raised our house full of kids). I guess it seems so because there are no huge chucks of the day scheduled by obligations and little things fill our days.
Come August we will be "empty nesters". It's still easy to remember the joy when back in 1986 we brought our first child home. Last night he drove down after work to spend the night and drop off his dog for the weekend. The dogs (mine and his) like each other and have worked out their differences. Four's cat, Oliver, is here too. My dog barely spares a glance for the cat and over the past couple of weeks Oliver has settled nicely as far as the dog is concerned. The Australian Shepard is seeing him for the first time though. AS does not differentiate between small furry animals. He seems to believe they are all feral and probably rabid. He seems bent on total eradication. The cat delights in taunting him ... rolling around on the floor, mere inches away, separated by large expanses of glass which flank the back of the house. Oliver appears to wink at the dog, showing his soft furry belly as he flirts with a quick end save the glass. Yeah, there's dog slobber and paw prints all over the place. I'm a bit OCD about the windows so Monday, or Tuesday, not sure when vacation is over for One, I'll be spraying that wonderful foam window cleaner and buffing them back to invisible. When AS arrives the cat who sorta lives here goes elsewhere. He and Oliver are not friendly as it is. I had never seen a cat preparing to kill another cat until these two met ... and it hasn't gotten any better over the two weeks that Oliver has been here. "My cat" stands tall with his fingers splayed, claws unsheathed as though on tippy toe. His eye are golden slits and his ears are pressed back looking all the world like a special forces guy's flat top. I mean ... my cat has a notch out of one ear and the other is pierced waiting for a pirates golden ear ring. He is a bit of a thug cat. He comes here for for a place to heal essentially ... and I think he enjoys sitting with me when I have my coffee first thing. No matter who is doing the accounting, there are too many animals here. Four may come home from her summer camp job for the weekend. In the Fall she'll begin her career as a science educator. In the meanwhile her household furnishings are neatly stacked in one of the garage bays and her cat is on the prowl for trouble.
I like downsizing. By American standards I am a minimalist. I still have more airplane stuff than I'll ever want to use again. That stuff has a emotional attachment I guess ... I'd give it away, most of it, to the right people or place. One of the local high schools builds an RV every year, sells it and uses the proceeds to buy an new kit for next year. I might look in to that for a "good" place to donate some of my current materials. I have read that actually flight proficiency deteriorates rapidly even among high hour pilots even as their self-confidence increases during long absences from routine flying. I haven't flown in over a year but I'm still keeping my instructor certificates current. As of today I doubt I'll ever take (or give) another flight review. I miss flying, but I don't miss all the hours in the air it takes to stay good at flying.
And dishes. I like dishes.
AS keeps on getting in the pool then coming over beside me to shake off. My dog is conserving energy in the shade. I may smell like wet dog while I do my housework today!