My 2014?

Married  Wheel

Quit  teaching :-)

Relocated  to Raleigh NC

Lost  my father


-TOB Bring on ’15

Equation

+ - = ( ) x ÷
inclination
inspiration
revelation
transformation

- OB make one

But Not the Wheels

spinning
but not on the bicycle
riding miles
but not down the road
eyeing the opening
but not from within the pack
struggling to finish
but not the race

- Osometimes it's hardB

Irritant

- THE OLD BAG IN HER CRABBY PLACE

Options and Future(s)

I've been fretting for months at the state of my retirement finances. During the last few downturns I was blissfully ignorant of all the racket -- heck, time was always on on my side. Markets always turned around. I've been up close and personal with dollar-cost-averaging combined with years. It works.

Now that I'm close enough to see the umbrella drinks on the horizon, however, I've become a bit more concerned. Retirement isn't somewhere off in the blurry distance, anymore. I want the flexibility to get out in 12 years when I'm 60. I want to be young enough to enjoy what comes later.

More importantly I need to know I'll have choices when I'm on the verge of becoming a cranky old bag occupying a classroom.

In my early years teaching I watched money run out at the end of each month while friends got ahead quickly in other fields. I've played the school district game of furthering my education time and time again so I could make some advances in pay. I've kept close tabs on all my in-n-out $$ for years, and have lived within my means. I can give you a run down of my expected expenses from now until infinity.

All I want is to be comfortable in the small house with the small yard...garden...dog...cats..... and to be able to jump on cheap travel deals.

Over the past couple of months I've tried hard to accept that I'll have to be working at 65 and that I won't have enough green to live the way I'd hoped. It's been eating away at my outlook.

So, yesterday I finally faced down all my accounts. I pulled up a variety of retirement calculators and couldn't get the numbers to play nice -- until I found a couple that dealt with a pension: that antiquated, noone-has-one-anymore, wonderful, glorious, I-love-teaching pension that may finally show me some financial payback for spending 40 years in a classroom.

Things aren't as bleak as I had thought.

-The Old I appreciate my job even more Bag

Pardon Me, Do You Have The

For the first time

in a long time

I finally have time

~

it's

about

time

!

- The and I'm wondering what to do with it all Bag

Life Gets in the Way

Snot Rocket, Part 2 is still on the docket, but right now I'm too busy herding cats at work and at home.



- The Bag meee-ow

$97 Later

Doctor = $30
Dentist = $67
1/4" sliver removed from my right tonsil = Priceless

- it was hidden in OB's granola...twigs and stems be damned, this wouldn't have happened if I was eating chocolate, there aren't sharp things in chocolate....

Rumination

sometimes all that's necessary
is a careful examination of the pieces
and of the intricate connection
between their working and their resting

- ob

Just Pause

I skipped out on the ride in this morning
I woke up tired
I wake up every day tired
but this morning was the tired that I feel
at not having enough time at home
after working late and getting up early
so the pink sunrise became my excuse
for a quiet morning
watching the colors rise in the backyard sky

- ob sometimes it's nice just to sit

And Breathing

scratch the breathing...well, except that I can do that while undertaking other things on the list so OK maybe breathing stays but the vent covers just aren't getting done and if they don't get painted they'll rust so maybe leave that one on the list but maybe skip the car-washing since the car is a beater anyway but I still need to have the oil changed and tires rotated and have that clunk checked-out but I'm cycling to work tomorrow so who cares for tomorrow anyway and after that IT'S FRIDAY!

- OB and then I can crash, right??

OK, Scratch the Vacuuming

but instead add:

read blogs



- The Old how do I get all the entries read?!? Bag

How-the-Heck

do people do all this and work full-time too??

clean/lube mountain bikes
work on garage shui
vacuum the basement
wash-out the cat boxes
mow
Round-Up the weeds
go through desk piles
email Cindy
vacuum the floor
wash the car
breathe
pay my bills
make a Target run
catalog returns
cards
spraypaint the vent covers
first buy the paint

- TOB whew!

The One that Brings Me

The cooler nights, the sun setting earlier in the evening, the dull green on the trees.... I know what’s on its way all too soon: dark mornings, fuzzy tights and the furnace kicking-in. I’m outta sorts with this transition. It's bigger than going back to a new school year. Time moves. The cycle begins again.

The wheel has rolled to the position it was in once before, yet it's not in the same place: it’s moved that much farther along the map, and the scenery is just a bit different, and the road contact has removed one more layer of wear from the tread. Everything looks familiar but nothing is quite the same.

I'm wistful because I have the time to be so. In another few days life will be crazy with kids and teachers and helpme^helpmehelpme and will-I-live-to-see-the-end-of-this-day. I won't have time for WISTFUL.

And then will come the red leaves waiting for snow to fall while hunkered-down until spring before summer sets me free again. And too soon I'll be back in this spot, but in a different place.

The wheel rolls.

Stella is starting to stomp around the garage. She can smell change on the air. Autumn is her favorite season to haul through the woods, and her impatience is setting-in. I get it, but I haven’t hopped onto the saddle just yet.

Betty knows too. She’s ancy when I get home. She knows how to cajole without allowing me to wallow. ComeON. So, you're nostalgic. SO, you're tired. SO it's getting cooler. SO the sun is setting a bit earlier. Time passes nothing stays the same you're getting old and one day you won't be around anymore bla bla bla. Girl, we've got a headlight. Flashers are on. It’s not like you have to DO anything but pedal. Let's go let'sgolet'sgolet'sgo!



....and we can stop by the Dairy Queen....

!

She knows how to get my sorry backside outta the house.

- TOB

yardlaundryvacuum

frustrated
at not having enough time

h o w e v e r

it
isn't
that there's not

it is
that
I decide

to take time
doing
            other
                 things

- Baggie and ya know, it's all in the choices....

Of Skeptics and Rain

We're coming outta the hole, you know. During the winters, we Minnesotans hang-out in our warm, dark places being industrious: moles and voles busying ourselves with the comforting work of keeping busy, knowing our hunkered-in spaces by memory, the necessity of sight second-guessed.

The spring transition comes slowly. Streams open and the March snow pulls back from sidewalks as the sun adjusts its downward angle. Geese fly northward. Tree branches, while still bare and gray-brown, sway instead of clattering together like old bones. Green begins to creep throughout our yards.

Days lengthen.

Our houses turn a bit toasty. The furnace kicks-in and we wonder why maybe a short-sleeved shirt.

Plastic comes off windows, but only in that one upstairs room that always tends to be a bit warm anyway.

In April, we throw our heads out the front door testing the air temps wondering which jacket to grab. But there are no bright eyes here. Blinking, squinting skeptics, we are.

Wow...other people live in those places across the street!

As a group, we aren't quite sure what to do with a sunny week of temps in the high 70s. Unseasonably warm. Our transition sequence has been interrupted, and we're a bit outta sorts at being so brazenly thrust into summer. We squint at the brightness eeking through our sunglasses. We doff the cycling jacket in favor of the vest...which is never left at home, but in the jersey pocket. Rides begin with tights and arm warmers and end with them stuffed and tied wherever they can be. We'd rather sweat through an extra under-layer than do without. We can't quite be convinced to let go of our trappings. Our heritage insists upon it.

We do start to forget ourselves, though, just a bit. The pink on our noses is testament.

However, Midwesterners know that after a few idyllic days something will come along to balance-out our measured joy. It's just as well. At yesterday's ride, I heard more than once about today's rain prediction: I hope it does rain, so I don't have to be out riding and can get things done around the house. We need rest. We're tired from being rushed along.

Indeed. Today the wind and rain arrived.

We knew it would.

Whew.

- The Bag's regrouping and resting

Gone

but not soon enough


man I need outta
the house, the job, the routine
spring break in AZ

baby


- TOB's countin' down t w o m o r e w e e k s

Life During...

...Wartime March

This ain't no party, this ain't no disco
this ain't no fooling around
No time for dancing, or lovey dovey
I ain't got time for that now

...because I'm out shoveling @!#$!! snow

- but at least TOB's got some decent tunes

Really

I'm still around, really I am, but between being under the weather for too many weeks of '06 and having great weekend company and having to make some work-related decisions I'm hanging low for a few...

...if all we had to think about was the ride...

...which maybe means I haven't been riding enough!

- The Bag's refueling :-]

Aesthetics? Athletics?

After a few 46-degree days my front lawn is turning green and whatever snow is falling from today’s gray skies is sparse -- disappears when it hits ground. It’s tough to get excited about throwing the skis in the car when the backyard is nearly in full bloom...nor do I feel like cleaning off a bicycle after riding through road slop...my running shoes need replacing or my hip does, whichever so that’s out.

However, it’s a perfect day for some spring cleaning. Over the past month my closets have gradually turned into havens for piles of shoes, clothes, towels and ski equipment. It’s what happens in the winter when we’ve got questionable snow: the sudden early Saturday AM wake-up, the flurry of phone calls and arranged pick-ups, then we’re off to the north/west/east in search of good skiing conditions. Returning home after supper means laundry and unpacking...things often get tossed into drawers and refrigerator before an evening of kicking-back: I’ll sort through things later.

So, this dreary day is later. It’s perfect for washing rugs and sorting-out Goodwill items, scrubbing the fridge and sweeping the basement and sorting sweaters. Since company is coming in a few days, I look at my house through someone else’s eyes:

• is that a...Christmas tree? STILL? What month is it?
• doorknobs -- on the Closet doors -- how long have those been gone? er, 18 months?
• ...dried-up OJ on the fridge shelves...I wish people, er, person would learn to clean-up
• salsa and hummus...more hummus, hummus, salsa...hey, I’ve got yogurt -- CARROTS!

Carpet is camouflage. I didn’t know that until I moved into a house with wood. Dust bunnies show up everywhere on wooden floors. Would I rather see crud and know enough to take care of it? or would I rather have it be there unseen and me be happily ignorant? I guess it depends upon whether we're talking aesthetics or athletics. Athletics? gimme carpet and an unfinished basement for repairing my toys. Aesthetics? wooden floors with an area rug can’t be beat in an older home.

Answer: a day off during the week for cleaning and errands since weekends are for play.

I wish. :-]

- The Bag