Summer, 1953 (6 years old)-- I spent hours playing in the bare patch of backyard that was officially my "sandbox". Oh, the things that came out of that sandbox, both good and bad. I would add leaves, twigs, water and stones to handfuls of dirt, and create culinary delights. Once, I threatened a kid down the street with a poisoned mud pie that I'd leave on her front doorstep. On one of my digs, I discovered a finely chiseled Indian arrowhead. I imagined a bronzed Narragansett Indian brave silently stalking a deer in my backyard. Another time, my brother Charlie and I decided we would dig a hole that would be so deep it would reach the children in China. We worked many, many hours, til we could fit inside that hole. While I was crouching in the bottom, digging out more dirt, my brother swung a hoe from above, and it caught me right on top of my skull, resulting in a trip to the emergency room, a couple of stitches, and a spot of my scalp where the hair doesn't grow. We never did reach China, but I never did give up my fascination with playing in the dirt.
On the first full day of retirement, Carl followed me out to the yard, asking ,"what are you doing?" and "why aren't you ready yet?" We were about to go on our first joint errand as a retired couple. "Honey", I replied, gently, but as firmly as I could, "Please don't ever, ever say those words again. You are now in my territory. I'm the chief CEO of this corporation. I've been running it for more than 30 years. You are now in my territory, and you are just a peon." I thought he took it pretty well. He shrugged his shoulders, walked towards the back door, and said, "I guess I'll just have to do my own thing til you're ready". When I came back inside, here's what he was busy doing.
Our first errand consisted of getting Carl some real work-out clothes and new running shoes (see photo below). On Mon., Wed., and Fri., we hit the track at the city park first thing in the morning, putting in 3 miles, and do lap swimming at the city pool on the in -between days. I wish I could bottle how good I feel after doing this. (Unfortunately, it doesn't last all day, and I'm drooping like a wilted flower come mid-afternoon.) After a leisurely breakfast, we then do our own projects (Carl's is in the garage), meet again for lunch, and so forth. Our first two weeks of retirement have been relaxing and fun, and Carl has been great about obeying the rules, so far. To be continued...
We were happy and sad to make one last trip to San Antonio the day before Mark, Courtney and Colby headed out to their new life in Minnesota. When we arrived, we worked all day packing the last items and loading the moving truck. "Little" Carl and his friend Adam were a tremendous help. We had brought them up for a church youth conference. They spent the night at Mark's place. In the morning, before Mark drove them to Trinity U. for EFY, the boys also helped with babysitting and packing the last few boxes.......7 month old Colby seemed a bit bewildered as his little world was being packed away. Here we are sitting on the sofa for the last time. Colby was a trooper; he was so patient through all the upheaval. He's now walking, while supporting himself on the edge of the sofa. When I said my last "bye-bye" to Colby, he amazed me, by waving and saying "bye-bye". When I said several "bye-byes", he kept repeating them back to me and waving. 