I haven't got this retirement thing figured out yet. After working out, showering, and breakfast, I headed to the library this morning for our writer's group, followed by entering the lyrics for Sunday's worship into the presentation program. All that took me till after lunch. Linda had an appointment with the eye doctor, so I volunteered to cut up the salad vegetables for tonight's dinner group meeting. I was about halfway done with that when Harry showed up, ready to usher me to band rehearsal at 3:00. Instead of coming home, we went straight to his house for our dinner group, from which I have just now gotten home at 10:30. My plans to haul the slab of concrete someone dumped in the creek have been just that--plans--for a week. Tomorrow I'll be helping son Nathan get some of his winter's wood in.
If Einstein's theory of relativity is true and time actually slows down as we approach the speed of light, I wonder if the opposite is equally true; that it speeds up the slower we go. It must be so. I'm moving more slowly and time is racing by. At this rate, I don't have to worry about getting bored. My projects are lined up longer than those crazy people waiting for the latest iPhone to appear. It's good to be at a place where if I just don't feel like tackling a project, I don't have to. It's good also that I have a wife who gently prods me to get at it, which is really the subject of my musings tonight.
I've been thinking a lot lately about all the things she does around here. She handles the budget; has it all mapped out on her calendar when the checks come in and when the bills get paid. Heaven help me if she goes before me; I haven't the foggiest idea of the state of our finances other than we're solvent and were able to pay cash for her car and my tractor.
She keeps the house almost spotless. Almost, because if it's above her eye level, it doesn't exist. Our home is as far from a bachelor pad as one can get without full time cleaning service, and most of it is her doing. She used to chide me about my profession, wondering why anyone would doom themselves to what amounts to a term paper each week as I wrote sermons. But I'm not doing that anymore, and she is still cooking every day. If I had to survive on my cooking, I wouldn't. She does the laundry, loves to mow the lawn, and takes care of the gardens. If that weren't enough, she cares for everyone who calls or stops by, and she loves me. What's there not to appreciate about her? I can't think of anything, and I thank God every day for Linda, the only woman I've ever, or ever will love.
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