Retirement has been quite the experience. Since that occurred in May of last year, we have enjoyed an anniversary celebration (30 years for Jane and me, confounding those who said it wouldn’t last), a fifteen day trip to Europe for a Viking River Cruise with Dale and Jan and a trip to another foreign land, New Mexico, to visit Mom and my two brothers.
Between these activities, my “plan” for retirement was to continue writing my stories of murder and mayhem. But life intervenes, and minor surgeries for both Jane and me derailed, somewhat, those plans. Death intervened, as Mom died in January. This was not unexpected, but final details had to be dealt with, including a memorial service in early April.
But one bright spot was the creation of a blog, where we opined on politics, religion, society, and history. This has been very enjoyable, even if no one ever reads what is written. Just to vent about the sometimes ludicrous actions of our “leaders” in government and society gives satisfaction.
However, on June 21 came an event that changed my retirement completely. Due to this occurrence, I am now qualified to take up many more vocations in my golden years. On that day Jane had her right knee replaced. Her incapacity over the past five weeks has trained me for various jobs. Follow along as I chronicle my job training since the surgery.
I now qualify as an expert chauffeur. Driving is different from what I have experienced here. Not only making sure the car stays between the lines, opening doors and making sure walkers and canes are in place are part of the job. In addition, many times I must open doors of the buildings we must frequent as Jane shuffles along slowly. Doctor’s appointments, physical therapy and trips to the Dairy Queen were part of my daily work. If anyone wants an experienced driver, I’m the one to call.
One profession that took a long time to master was chef and chef’s assistant. Since the cripple could no longer complete those tasks, I had to learn how to turn on the stove, the timer, and how to turn them off. Also I am now adept at reading cooking instructions, preparing pans for placing the food in and checking when it was ready. Included in this was the assistant part. From her comfy perch on a reclining sofa, instructions would be given to me on the preparation of the meals. It took a few weeks, but finally I was able to follow correctly. When any restaurant needs a good cook, I now qualify.
Included in the above is the under appreciated job of waitperson (formerly called waiter or waitress, but we must be politically correct). Especially in the morning, I have found the distribution of food to the household to be somewhat chaotic. Breakfast takes many forms around here. Cereal is easy; just find bowls, distribute to the various people, make sure milk is available and all is done. But not so in our home. Toast has to be prepared, and each of the three people here must have the bread toasted differently. To get it right has been a challenge. In addition to the humans, Paddy and Nettie (our two dogs) must be fed at the same time, for they feel they are part of the family; they are just our short furry children. Also, two of our aging cats must be fed individually, which they feel is their right by reason of seniority. It has only been in the past few days that any kind of efficiency has been achieved. With a little more practice, that job is now within my skill set.
A couple of other household tasks are now handled with dispatch. Washing clothes is a snap since it has been my responsibility to do so. I was somewhat familiar with this role, but the added loads have honed my ability to do this work. Washing dishes, though, was a real challenge. Looking at the dishwasher and all its various buttons for operating it well took patient instruction from the patient in the living room. Some items had to be washed by hand, an unpleasant part of this vocation. In spite of the machine being called a dishwasher, I had to rinse all the stuff put in there. By this time, though, I am an expert. Any hotel would jump at the chance to hire me!
Housecleaning, I will admit, was not my forte. Mostly I felt that if I excelled at this daily work, when the knee was fully healed, I might be forced to continue in what seems to be a never-ending drudge. Not much was learned, except to make sure the house was really neat when the housecleaners came. That included making the bed so the ladies didn’t think I was a slob.
My duties were also in demand as the food shopper for the family. Between therapy, painful cries, and mind dulling TV, lists would be made for my almost daily trips to Wal-Mart. One lesson learned was how much money it took to keep just three people in eats each week. Embedded in my mind are the locations of various food items, some of which I didn’t know even existed. Do you know where to find pickled herring? I do! And I can go directly to the right kind of dishwashing detergent we use. Cheese? Tell me the kind and I will locate it quickly. If there were a career in food shopping, I would be excellent at that.
As a corollary to that, I can also do personal shopping. Things like hair spray, lint brushes, shampoo and rinse, birthday and anniversary cards — all these and more are easy to find. In some large cities, personal shoppers get paid well. I’m qualified for that job, as well.
We have a lot of roses in front of our house, and those must be weeded from time to time. Previously my job was the big picture. Planting the flowers, trimming the trees, clearing brush — those were manly pursuits. But weeding was what Jane did well, and now she cannot (doctor’s orders, of course!) kneel to rid the beds of weeds. So guess who had to learn how to pull those weeds and do it with the least amount of time and effort? That’s right — me. Although I would never apply for such a position in a lawn care enterprise, I am now able to do the work.
I wonder if porters are still about. You know — hauling stuff for other people when they want it hauled. I’m your man. Water — I go get it. A snack — off to the kitchen I go. Pillow for the injured appendage — a quick trip to the bedroom for that. Medicine — my job is to get it and quickly. Purse — track it down, bring it to the patient and return it to its proper place. Although this job seems simple, part of the trick to being an excellent porter is knowing where the item is and quickly getting it for our poor patient. One of these was the ice. Sharon and Ray kindly lent us a machine which keeps ice on the injured knee. When the ice level was low, your humble porter was expected to find and replenish the supply.
One of the skills I am most proud of is that of poodle herder. We know of the ability of border collies to herd sheep by keeping the animals from turning aside or leaving the flock. Our standard poodle, Nettie, is now getting old and has had several infirmities over the years. Consequently, she doesn’t see well and wants to follow her nose, which is still in excellent shape. By now, I have mastered the technique of moving like a sheep dog, keeping behind her and blocking her attempts to go where we don’t want her to go. The last couple of days has seen me guide her in almost a straight line, using only my feet directing her. Do you know of anyone who has a herd of poodles? If they want someone to keep them in line, let me know!
Since my high school days, I have seen cheerleaders keep spirits high, both of the players on the teams and the fans in the stands. For the last five weeks, I have been the lead cheerleader in this house. Every day I feel a need to keep spirits up and gloom down. No matter how bad my body aches, I must put on a cheerful face and exhibit an optimistic attitude. Many people who look at our situation do not know what an important task this. Would anyone want a cheerleader to keep their household happier? I have experience in this.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected retirement to prepare me for such a rich and diverse selection of jobs. All it took was a simple six-inch incision, and when Jane came home, my training for these vocations began.