On our way again…

March 28, 2025 / Denise / 3 Comments

How many times must I make this journey to see my grandkids before I lose the excitement of getting there. Many many many more I can only imagine, for each visit brings its own thrills.

This time like 4 other times before, we are meeting one of our grandkids for the first time.

I remember Solomon our first, meeting him at 3 months old. And your first in everything always brings with it varying emotions. From excitement to anxiety. From ‘I can’t wait to get there’ to ‘Wait, is this really happening?’ From ‘Do I remember what to do with a baby’ to ‘Oh my word, I can’t wait to snuggle his baby toes’. And always to moments where your heart is so full it empties through your eyes.

But I’ve realised that those emotions never disappear. I remember Wyatt our second. Meeting him when he was already one year and a bit, after the drama that was Covid. There was a longing, a feeling of wanting to catch up on everything I had missed for the past year. FaceTime allowed us to get to know each other but only just barely. The real deal was about to happen. I could only imagine that I had been but a funny face on the other side of the screen for his entire life. Was I just a movie for him? Did he think I was a real person? What would his reaction be when he met me face to face and realised that that funny face was actually his Grandma? A permanent fixture in his life. A bit of dread mixed with anxiety but always my heart spilling out from my eyes.

I met Julius our third at the same time as Wyatt, just two months old. He was oblivious to anything around him. Just happy to have these big humans hugging and loving him day after day. He still loves his cuddles and at two months old he was an angel – ‘was’ being the operative word.

I never wanted to leave. My three grandsons were growing up and fast. I felt I had missed out on so much that it would be impossible to make up for lost time. Whatever moments I could enjoy, I did, without restrain. Whatever milestones I could witness, I committed to memory. Whatever cuddles I could get, I savoured. Leaving was the hardest part and still is. My heart would swell and my eyes would overflow. There would be moments of no return when I felt torn and broken into pieces.

These three grandchildren became the magnet that would draw me back to Australia time and time again. I was growing accustomed. I was in my comfort zone with these boys. They had also come to visit and knew that their Grandma also had a home of her own. She had dogs and fish and lived close to the sea. They had lots of cousins where Grandma lived. There were toys and books and a hill they could roll down in glee.

And so, I thought that the visits would become just a normal way of life. I could do this without the ‘what ifs’ going through my mind. Maybe the anxiety would go away and just be replaced with excitement. Maybe my heart wouldn’t swell so much and the tears would dry up.

But nope! As fate would have it, a Princess was born and everything turned topsy turvy. A little girl. How would I even know what to do with a girl? Boys were rough and tumble. I could do that. They loved being outdoors riding their bikes and digging in the sand at the beach. We mastered that. But a Princess? The excitement once again was mixed with anxiety. And the thought of meeting the first girl filled my heart to overflowing. I could hardly wait. And the journey took forever.

I met my Thea Molly Rose at 4 months old. Already her personality was shining through, and she melted my heart with her big smile and ready to come to Grandma with open ar. We bonded easily. She allowed me into her Princess world and quickly wedged her way into my heart making it ever so difficult to leave.

And now Princess no. 2 has arrived. She’ll be just 10 days old when I meet her. And I will leave her when she’s not even two months old. Already my heart is growing making room for another lifelong love. And once again the excitement is mixed with anxiety. The ‘she’s so small and will not even remember me’ haunts my every thought.

I am already preparing myself for the inevitable. A swollen heart, swollen eyes, pieces of my heart left across the globe and a longing to make the journey once again. For I already have another little love to meet before the end of the year.

I know now though, that these emotions are never far away and will resurface as soon as my journey begins, whether I like it or not.

The best time ever…

January 10, 2025 / Denise / Leave a comment

“Let’s go firefighters” and off we went to the movies.

The excitement was building (for us anyway) ever since we discovered that Moana 2 would be showing before we left Aussie. And as soon as we told the boys we were going, we were all pumped.

“Julsie, we’re not going to school today. We are going to see Moana with Grandma and Pappi and Wyatt”. Faces lit with excitement and good behaviour was the order of the day.

The car ride was a bit long I must admit, but the songs and storytelling certainly helped in passing the time successfully. When we arrived at Wyatt’s school, the excitement intensified. Jumping and running to meet us, joyfully waving goodbye to his teachers and friends, Wyatt literally launched into the car joining his two cousins, sharing snacks, chatting about everything under this sun, singing the Moana songs like true Moana-ites.

We were finally on our way.

As we reached the Mall they were let loose and ran ahead like crazy picnies, stopping only to know which way to turn. The giggles, the screeches, the laughter, filled out hearts. We purchased 5 tickets and in reality only used 3 seats as one little firefighter needed some cuddles during the ‘scary’ parts, much to my delight, and the other two had their movie comments to discuss throughout.

They’ve grown so much since we last saw them just a mere 3 months ago.

Solomon, now 5 is maturing daily. Loves story telling. Is knowledgeable on any animal topic. Is engrossed with Lego and never forgets anything as “it is right here in my memory” Grandma. He wears his heart on his sleeve and is a loving big brother, except when his rules are not followed.

Wyatt is 4 and his big brother instincts are kicking in slowly but surely. Loves riding to and from school with his Pappi, gets a kick out of playing football on an afternoon and is super excited to join his new friends at Ju Jitsu. His hugs are heartfelt and when his little face lights up you can’t help but fall in love all over again.

Little Julius just turned 3 and does not stop talking, or singing for that matter. He too loves story telling and knows how to push his big brother’s buttons pulling the “I’m the little one card” when he needs it. His hugs are to die for and his smile melts your heart.

Thea Molly Rose. A 1 year old toddler going on 13. Aware of everything around her and super sensitive to her brother’s needs, bringing him his water bottle when she sees him fussing. She’s not a push over by any means and has mastered the art of wrapping you around her little finger. Julius is wary of her as she makes her needs/demands known in no uncertain terms. I imagine she will be a force to be reckoned with.

It is heart warming to see them together. Excited and happy to be with each other as often as they can. Riding, swimming, playing, just being kids who are cousins.

It’s been a world wind of a visit. A mere 5 weeks together. And I’ll do it over and over again, as long as my body and mind can handle it.

It’s a short list…

September 21, 2024 / Denise / 2 Comments

So many social media posts list up to 40 life-long learnings of those of us blessed with age. Lists that, while trying to help those younger in years to skip the line to really understanding what life should be all about, tend to dismiss the fact that the very struggles of daily life, navigating the ups and downs are in fact, part and parcel of growing up and finally reaching the stage when you too can actually own the simple cliche – don’t sweat the small stuff. The journey, in my opinion, is the real deal.

So this is my short but sweet list.

1. You are in control. Be accountable. Take responsibility for your life.

2. You are supposed to make mistakes. Own them. Learn from them and move on.

3. People will always have something to say. If it’s not true – forget it. If it’s true – do something about it.

4. Laughing is therapy. Laugh at and with yourself first and foremost. You will find that you actually have a great sense of humour.

5. Spend time alone. Become your own best friend.

Do you have a list?

What 70 really looks like…

May 14, 2024 / Denise / 2 Comments

I must have been 8 or 9 years old when I discovered that my mother had just turned 40. I stared at her cutting her birthday cake with my father and I wanted to burst into tears. She was smiling and happy. We were all happy. But to me 40 was such a big number. A number that felt ions away and in my childlike mind, my mother didn’t have much longer to live. And so, 40 became for me the big bad age.

When I turned 40, in the peak of health, with a young family like my mother had been some years prior, I felt dread. For no other reason than what my mind had recorded so long ago. I didn’t want to receive any birthday greetings so I escaped with my small family where no-one could reach me, just for the day. Since then, though, I’ve realised that age is just a number. Your health, your happiness, your family are a few of the most important things in life. And now that I am in my sixties and the real big numbers are staring me in the face, I dig deep into my memories for what those ages could possibly mean.

My mother breathed her last breath just a few months past the age of 70. She had been ailing since her early sixties. My father heroically took on the role of caregiver like no other. And even with her family rallying around her, her quality of life began to fade towards her late sixties. She had lost her speech. I can only imagine that she felt trapped no longer being able to communicate as she had wished. And yet, even with this memory, the dread that I felt at 40 no longer haunts me. It has now been replaced with a sense of newness of life. For in my own experience, there’s still time for adventure. There’s still time to learn new things. There’s still time to love – your family, your friends, yourself.

A few weeks ago, my sister turned 70. We had been joking about it for some time, reminiscing on our experiences and wondering what this new stage would bring for her. The day after we celebrated her, she messaged me – it’s not so bad after all – she said. I smiled a big smile. For my sister has now become my new beacon of what 70 looks like.

And what does 70 look like? It is at peace with oneself. It is accepting of what life has to offer. It is grateful for every moment, every day. It is quirky and has a sense of humour. Ready to go new places and experience new things. Its arms are wide open welcoming love and adventure. It is wise. It is kind. It is generous of heart and spirit.

Thanks to my sister, I look forward to 70, hoping that I too will find that it’s not so bad after all.

My first Quilting Retreat…

May 12, 2024 / Denise / Leave a comment

I started sewing at my mother’s side probably around 6 or 7 years old. The interest was primarily making something out of seemingly nothing (I am learning something new). Fabric that was flat and pretty could turn into stuffed animals, playtime balls for kids. It was truly amazing.

And then later on fabric could turn into clothing. The best of all. I wanted party clothes. So I sewed different items of clothing to sell so I could buy to buy more fabric to make my own clothes. My sister got into the act as well and inveigled me to sew clothes for her. No biggie. Practice makes perfect. And it gave me a great sense of pride to see her strut out of the house in something I had made or helped make for her.

Many sewings later, I was making clothes for my then boyfriend and now husband. Soft furnishings for my home, clothes for the kids including their play clothes, pyjamas, bathing suits. It never stopped. Until one day my job, taking care of the kids, managing the household, and sometimes looking after myself all got in the way of my passion for sewing.

Fast forward to retirement. And I am back in front of my sewing machine, but this time sewing quilts. Oh my word!. The joy of creating something out of seemingly nothing has returned. At a level that I never imagined.

But the best part is that after 3 years of YouTubing, I was lucky enough to attend a quilt retreat in Missouri. And that’s probably the only reason to go to Missouri. To quilt with others who love the art form as much as you do.

My primary intention was to better my machine quilting technique. So I signed up with a retreat from the renowned Angela Walters. But if I may, let’s just take one tiny step back to acknowledge the wonderful world of YouTube. Oh my word. I started following the greats in the world of quilting – Jenny Doan from Missouri Star Quilt Company (#missouristartquiltco) for her easy-to-follow quilt pattern tutorials and Angela herself (#quiltingismytherapy) who made machine quilting look so easy and gave me the confidence to try my hand at it. Making the quilt an actually quilting it.

Not having the support locally in a tropical country where quilts are seen primarily as cheaply made bedspreads from Walmart, I felt and still feel alone in the industry. But I am slowly but surely making my way.

So now let’s get back to the retreat. A very kind and much wanted birthday gift from my husband, I headed to Missouri for my first ever quilt retreat. Missouri. Not your everyday destination, known if at all, primarily for cattle farming and quilting. Pretty small town country living as I know it anyway. And as I was to learn very quickly, filled with kind, generous, easy going people.

I was made to feel at home from the time I jumped into the Uber at the airport to the time I left. Easy to talk to. Willing to please. Making everyone feel at home. Hospitality at its best.

Angela, realising that I had come totally un-prepared for the retreat experience, shifted gears immediately and opened her personal sewing machine and quilting space for me to do what I had come there to do. I had come to learn the techniques of machine quilting. Unbeknownst to me the retreat was primarily about getting together and piecing a project with like-minded quilters. Chit chatting, learning from each other, spending time in your own space. Angela willingly offered me her time and experience helping me to quilt the project I had come prepared to quilt, including others in the retreat who wanted to learn a thing or two. She did not bat an eyelid. And the hospitality was laid on thick, without hesitation. Down to the last moment when we discussed together how to finish the quilt.

I’m not sure I am making myself clear on this special attention I received from one of my gurus. But I was on top of the world.

This was a 3 day trip. Close enough to my other quilting guru, but without transportation, almost impossible to make a visit to Hamilton a reality. I had resigned myself that it would not happen and was content with my decision. Until on the first day, at dinner, while buddying up to some of the fellow quilters….

“Absolutely not. There’s no way you can come all the way here, travel so far, and not at least visit the Missouri Star Quilt Company.” I was being kindly admonished by a fellow quilter. I shrugged my shoulders. But I had no choice, or so I thought. “We are going there tomorrow.” And I jumped at the opportunity. Generosity of time, unequalled. Little did I know however that this Good Samaritan would arrange for me to me meet none other than Jenny Doan herself and her daughter-in-law, both of whom I follow avidly. I was in seventh heaven.

There was an interest, a certain type of generosity of time and spirit, and kindness that pervaded those three special days that have stayed with me in my heart and soul. That have motivated me to become the best quilter that I can possibly be in honour of those I met and spent time with.

Most of all however, it was a time spent learning a skill just for myself. It was all my time. And I sincerely cannot remember the last time I did anything that was all for me.

I will continue to quilt for as long as I can, and I hope to master the skill to the best of my ability. But I will forever take with me the memory of the kindness that was bestowed upon me.

With Angela Walters – Quilting is My Therapy

Leaving is the hardest part…

January 6, 2024January 9, 2024 / Denise / 9 Comments

Just a little over a year ago I left my grandchildren with the heaviest of hearts. There was just not enough time to share my love with them. And now one year later, the departure is no less heart wrenching.

I can’t complain though. 2022 was amazing. With two visits to Aussie and a Christmas season shared with all at home. I will never complain. But leaving is always the hardest part. The cuddles become sweeter. The laughs become louder. The moments more precious.

Solomon is now 4. He is, for all intents and purposes, a big boy. He is a loving big brother. His cousins adore him. He is gentle and kind, most of the time. Conversations vary from little boy to almost teenager. But there is always a conversation and he more often than not starts with – “Grandma, did you know….?” sharing his 4-year old wisdom whenever he can. His obsession with Super heroes is beyond. “You want to come visit my superhero house Grandma?” Of course I answered. “But just know Grandma that it always snows on Fridays.” “Well I’ll have to bring my warm jacket.” I reply. “Not to worry Grandma,” he consoles. “I have warm clothes for 80-year olds……” “What about 40-year olds,” I counter. “Yes Grandma all ages. Not to worry.” I frown. 80 year olds? Well really.

Wyatt is 3. Learning to be a big brother. Always busy and still can’t keep still for long. Doesn’t know how to walk from A to B. Must run. Easily distracted unless it involves cars, planes or trains – a worrisome characteristic when learning to ride his bike, looking all over the place except ahead of him. Loves to help in the garden except when he stumbles upon his water gun and must squirt everything in sight. Loves the ocean as he calls it, running into the waves and toppling over, bubbling up in peals of laughter. Not good for grandparents. Thankfully he knows how to swim. His cuddles, when he decides to share them, warm your heart. And you don’t want to let go.

Julius is 2 going on 12. Talks non-stop. Not needing any response really. Full sentences with an accent that takes some time getting accustomed to. “Where dis come from?” is his favourite question with a hint of Trini lingo. “Shops!” is the go-to answer. And of course, the age-old question of ‘Why?’. He is learning to love the water, but it can’t be too cold. “I want to cuddle you” jerks at your heart but you soon learn that it usually gets him off the ground and from A to B very easily. But you don’t care. A cuddle is a cuddle. He has a mischievous streak. A smile that melts ice. Determined with no fear.

Julius – thinks he is a big boy always with a story to tell

Then there is our Thea Molly Rose – almost 7 months. Our newest angel. Our first granddaughter and the first girl in the family. She has captured our hearts with her open smile, quiet nature (for now) and her delicious thunder thighs. She is quietened by Solomon and excited by her brother, Wyatt who makes her laugh at the slightest action. She loves hugs and kisses, probably because she can’t yet dodge them on her own. And I have this feeling that she will rule her brother and cousins with the wave of a finger. Time will tell.

Their laughter. Their stories. Their different personalities keep you on your toes. Your heart swells with each look, each smile, each cuddle, each small hand slipped into yours. Each time you hear them utter the word, ‘Grandma’. And you can’t tear yourself away. But you must.

Until next time my angels.

Grandma loves you to the planets and back, over and over and over again.

They may hold my hand for a little while, but they will forever hold my heart.

Welcoming new growth in 2024…

December 31, 2023January 1, 2024 / Denise / 1 Comment

Driving home last night after what turned out to be a lovely birthday celebration of dinner and cocktails at sunset – well what was supposed to be a sunset – we were greeted with the beginnings of very stormy weather. Dark ominous clouds, thunder and lightening. Weather that had been forecast a few days prior. But we went anyway.

I was sitting in the front of the vehicle with my son. And I sighed at the rain. Something I don’t usually do. I love the rain and all the good that it brings. Pondering this time however what it might mean for the first week of the New Year.

“Rain brings new growth Mum.” And I smiled in relief. And some tears of gratitude for my many blessings.

And so I begin the New Year with promises of new growth. With an open mind and open arms. To whatever life may throw at me. Knowing that even though dark clouds may threaten, there will always be the proverbial silver lining. I just need to look for it.

Happy New Year

December 30, 2023December 31, 2023 / Denise / 1 Comment

It’s been a while since I’ve made any New Year resolutions. Primarily because I always seem to loose the moment the New Year begins. I forget. I change my mind. I simply can’t keep it up. Whatever it may have been. My resolutions became something I thought I wanted to do and never did. And as such I spent the year kicking myself for not being able to achieve what I thought were non-complex goals.

In 2023 however I made a simple commitment. In April. One that I felt I could keep. One that resonated with who I was and who I wanted to be. I committed to being true to myself.

Some may disagree and I would sincerely appreciate the feedback whether or not I have succeeded. But at that moment in my life I decided point blank that I was working too hard to please everyone else. I had lost who I was.

I had a lingering memory of this fun-loving teenager and I wanted to be her once again. She loved life. She laughed a lot. She feared nothing. She could do anything she set her mind to. And she revelled in the security of the love of family.

So what had changed. I had a life to love. My sense of humour still prevailed. There was nothing to stop me from doing what I wanted to do. And Lord knows my family have never left my side. But I had lost my way. I let myself be swayed by the expectations of a society that I didn’t really want to be a part of. A society that wanted me to conform to their norms. To look like them. To be like them. And I was finding it hard to keep up for my aspirations no longer conformed. I no longer wanted to be like them. I was not one of them. And never would be.

With that revelation, I forgave myself all wrongdoings and moved on. Just like that. Almost like an epiphany. And just like that she returned. Slowly. One step at a time. One sweet laugh at a time. One small accomplishment at a time.

She was no longer a teenager. Lord knows she doesn’t look like one. But her heart and soul feel the energy and passion of a teenager. Her years though have taught her when to say ‘enough’ and move on. How to love with all your heart and be loved. How to be true to yourself.

The journey continues. My commitment remains strong. And I look forward to new growth, new love, new beginnings.

Happy New Year to everyone. May you find your true self. May you live your true life. May you be uplifted by the love of your family and friends.

For Roses …

August 3, 2023August 3, 2023 / Denise / 7 Comments

My mother-in-law

This is a brief simple recap of the relationship I shared with my mother-in-law who recently passed away. It is not meant to recount her many idiosyncrasies. It is not meant to expound her many wonderful and sometimes crazy traits nor remember her many quips which most find so endearing.

It is simply sharing another side of Roses that only a few chosen ones have been fortunate enough to experience. The in-law side.

My first introduction to Roses was facing her straight on from the back, her rear end pointed to the heavens as she doubled over on the floor in a desperate effort to relieve some ‘gas’. It was not a pretty sight. There are some things in life that you just can’t un-see. I stood still and remained silent. I wanted to run, but Roger my now husband, was holding my hand very tightly in a desperate effort to keep me there. She eventually jumped up, laughed her infectious ‘ha ha’ laugh, her blue eyes twinkling as they always did, and we moved on as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

And therein began a very open, no frills, no fuss, nothing to hide, take it or leave it type of relationship, with the woman who was to make a huge impression on my life and the life of my three sons.

Mothers-in-law have always had a bad rap, especially if you marry the first-born male. They are interfering, pushy, want to tell you how to take care of their ‘baby’, treat you as if you know nothing, and generally make your life a living hell. Or so I was warned. But he was so cute, I took my chances and waited, ready and armed for battle.

Well that battle never happened. Instead I was faced with a mother-in-law and father-in-law mind you, who were both so happy that I relieved them of their son, that I sometimes felt that I could do no wrong. On our 10th wedding anniversary Roses with her very mischievous sense of humor, presented me with a medal, laughing her ‘ha ha’ laugh, twinkling her blue eyes.

She never interfered, well not that I noticed anyway. She was always ready with advice when asked, generous of her time and love, and knew exactly when to appear, like magic, to show her support in whatever way needed. My boys loved her. Alexander, my second in particular, as he was the one who spent a few years at home before moving on his own, loved to visit his grandmother. She made him feel at home. They shared their stories and more often than not a drink or two. He was always welcome.

Each of my boys felt special. As I am sure all of her grandchildren did.

I learnt how to be a good mother-in-law from Roses. Well, the truth is that I learnt what a good mother-in-law looks like anyway. She made it seem so easy but in essence it’s a hard act to follow.

At her last moments, I thanked her for putting up with me. For never making me feel inadequate. For always making me feel like family.

Here’s to you Roses. May you rest in eternal peace.

A day in the life of a Retiree…

September 21, 2022 / Denise / 2 Comments

“So what do you do every day?” – the number one question I receive at least once a week. I am touched that so many people are interested in my whereabouts now that I am retired and it always brings a smile to my face, especially because I am really not sure if the person is baffled, worried or simply interested in how I am managing this thing called ‘retirement’.

It is an important question, mind you – what you do with your days after 35 years of being consumed with your job, children, hobbies and life in general. There is a major gap to fill when you retire to an empty nest. And I strongly believe that you need to prepare yourself mentally, physically and financially for this new stage of life. But I was genuinely never worried about filling my days with ‘busyness’ because quite frankly I wanted them as empty as possible so that I could fill them with what I wanted to fill them with. That was my goal, and my mantra – nowhere to be and lots of time to get there – continues to guide me.

My answer to this question is oftentimes – ‘Whatever I want to do’. It really doesn’t answer the question and may sound rude but in essence it simply means that I am free to do as I please, that flexibility rules my day.

Today I thought I’d document my every move – because sometimes I too, am not quite sure what I’ve been up to. So here goes, for those who are really interested in my sometimes-daily routine.

5.00 – Internal alarms goes off – meaning that my eyes can no longer stay closed which I am told is a mature person’s curse. I have not set a morning alarm since I’ve retired, and you have no idea how ‘freeing’ this is. I get up and start my day and I’ve chosen to fill my early morning with exercise. So, I quickly feed the dogs and I am out of the house by 6.00 to take a leisurely 8k run.

The sun is rising, lights are still on in my neighbourhood, the air is cool, the birds are already up and searching for food. As I stroll down my hill, I take in the lush views of the mountains and begin my run slowly, enjoying the peace and quiet on the roads. I am smiling.

The route is quiet at first but as the rest of the world begins their daily commute to school and work, the sound of the birds chirping is drowned by the noise of vehicles rushing to get where they need to be. I am still smiling – I have nothing to rush anywhere for. I feel at peace even with the hustle and bustle around me.

As I finish my run in my favourite park, the squawking of the parrots come back into focus, the squirrels are scurrying from tree to tree, and I share the usual morning pleasantries and chats with my morning exercise buddies. As I pass the school on my way home, mothers are frantically doing last minute homework with their kids, quick hugs and kisses, and they are off to start their day. I remember those days and I smile.

This particular morning, the traffic is thick. I slowly walk back home engaging in conversation with at least four drivers who are at a standstill. I laugh and jokingly thank the traffic for letting me catch up with some friends on the way.

8.00 – I peruse my garden – feeding the wild birds and the pond fish. There’s nothing like walking through your garden, trimming, pruning, chatting with the flowers and wildlife along the way – picking the fresh produce of the day. It’s peaceful and rewarding. As I sit having breakfast, the hummingbirds are darting back and forth from the flowers to their feeders, the wild birds are having a blast with the fresh seeds, the butterflies flitting gracefully from flower to flower. The morning is cool. The rest of the day looms ahead.

10.00 – Hobbies are cast aside today as I have some last-minute shopping to do readying for my big trip next week to see my boys. At the mall I meet up with my sister unexpectedly. With nowhere to be and lots of time to get there, we catch up on the last days’ events, laugh and even reminisce, forgetting that we have anything else to do. Then, oops, we do have things to do and continue on our merry way, all the better for having met up with each other.

Alas, nothing like a nap when it is raining…

1.00pm – Lunch while catching up with the BBC and some other personal messages. However, a day is never complete without succumbing to the call of the sleep gods. And it is raining. YES!!! A movie and a nap are in order for the afternoon quiet time. This was always a must on my retirement list of ‘things to do’ – nap time, relax time, meditation time, me time – call it what you will – the only flexibility about this time is its length, but it happens every single day.

3.00 – I thought I had set aside my hobbies for the day, but my sewing machine is clambering for some attention, and I dutifully answer the call – finishing off some projects before my impending vacation next week. I am still smiling.