10. Sauntering into Retirement- 2018

 In the beginning, having time on my hands, especially in winter was different. Yes, not having to rush our morning walk so I could get to the office early was a real luxury but then what? I had always enjoyed baking but everyday meals, not so much.  Frits likes to cook so between us we could put together meals a couple or three times a week and eat leftovers on the other nights. Three years later we still have that arrangement finishing every last scrap with almost nothing going to waste. That feels good.  

Dealing with the chronic headaches was an ongoing, time consuming part of my life and Frits’ too. The year previous we had ventured west in the Coach with the two dogs on board. The Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota had accepted me into their diagnostic program for a full work up. We had expected to be there for a less than a week but it was just over a month later when we returned. Nothing definitive was found other than nerve damage possibly caused by my cochlear implants. Steroid injections into my head stopped the pain in its tracks but only, it tuned out to be, for a few weeks.  Follow up shots never did the trick quite the same way.

The Coach, a 25 foot motorhome we bought in 2014, was perfect for this trip. We could stay in an RV park where a shuttle service linked us to the Clinic and where we could hole up to rest and cook our meals between the many appointments. The dogs, Chief and Lily were good travelers and happy to bed down with us and take walks when there were unscheduled times.

Buying a motorhome had intrigued us for many years possibly beginning with the old bus. We had thought it would make a cool traveling home but that never materialized. We rented an RV several times to try it out, first in Colorado to visit Sarah and loop through Yellowstone and parts of Utah and New Mexico.  A little chilly in October and no dogs allowed but still a lot of fun. Next to accompany Ian on part of his cross-county bike trip, but that’s a whole other chapter, and again in California with our good friends, Lee and David, to attend a wedding.

Our children were spread from coast to coast, Ian in Oregon and then California, Sarah in Colorado and Devon in Vermont. Grandchildren started arriving in 2010 with Sarah and Jason’s, Jack and two years later, Tucker. Flying had lost its appeal especially for getting to Edwards, CO. It took two flights plus a long shuttle bus ride and more than 12 hours.Time to buy the Coach.

Now several years and many cross country trips later we still prefer this mode of transport and have some great stories to tell.

9. Sauntering into Retirement-1976

 After the death of Frits’ stepfather, his mother was anxious to sell the farm and move closer to us. By this time all the animals had gone except her small herd of miniature Sicilian donkeys. Several years earlier Grethe had purchased her first donkey from somewhere in the Midwest. Elsie was delivered riding on the back seat of a Volkswagen Bug.  Standing less than 36 inches at the shoulder this was not as preposterous as you might think. Those long ears however drew some open-mouthed gasps from other travelers on the highway, I’m sure.

The Randolph farm sold quickly to an acquaintance wanting an organic dairy producing facility so by mid summer we knew a larger place had to come sooner rather than later. Our second child was due on a October 2nd so juggling a couple of horses, a herd of donkeys, some chickens, a couple of sheep, a mother, a toddler and a very pregnant wife was plenty for one man. But now we would have to move.

Just up the road the perfect place was waiting. The Bedell Farm hadn’t seen animals in a while and the little red farmhouse, 2 barns and 34 acres were looking for a new owner. The house was mid renovation and would be perfect for Grethe once complete.  The animals would have plenty of room and we could build our second home at a later date. Grethe was willing to commit the money from the sale of her farm to cover part of the purchase price, around $60,000, so the deal was done.

Frits went to work completing the renovation in short order so his mother and donkeys could make the move. Phew, we could take a breath, finish the house and prepare for a new baby. Or so we thought.

Hearing about the purchase of our new property raised interest from a local couple who were house hunting. Well before we were ready to sell, we had an offer. As they say in the real estate market, ‘the first offer if often the best’.  This would appreciate our initial investment of $5,000 to $58,000, albeit with massive amounts of sweat equity. We accepted the offer! Closing would be the middle of September just two weeks before my due date. 

First we had to find a rental, then move and still complete some unfinished projects, namely a full bathroom. The first rental we thought we had secured, a house in town that was for sale, went under contract within days. Then I jumped out of the back of the pickup while holding Devon.  The combined weight of a two year old and an 8 month pregnant belly was too much for my ankle. It crumpled tearing ligaments and requiring a cast. Then 4 weeks before my due date I started having contractions! Rushed to the hospital labor room the contractions were stopped medically but not before I had witnessed a woman brought in by wheelchair about to give birth before even making it to a bed. With no doctor on hand and the nurse not quite understanding the urgency of the situation, this poor woman delivered in a wheelchair with me in a cast on the other side of the curtain. I was able to go home with instructions to do nothing if I wanted this baby to go full term.

With so much at stake you would think we would be panicked. I don’t remember feeling particularly anxious although that seems unlikely now. Both Frits and I had positive attitudes and although we had no money to hire help we had very good and generous friends. Within the next couple of weeks it all came together. The rental we found had three bedrooms, was close to town and had a barn with stalls for our horses. Directing the packing and unpacking from a chair while my friends rushed about with boxes was not the way I like to do things but it had to be. Sarah was born one day early, the night after my mother arrived to help. Since she had been trying to push herself out for several weeks the actual labor and delivery was very quick making it to the hospital with just a half hour to spare.  At least I made it to a bed and didn’t suffer the indignity of a wheelchair birth!

The winter of ‘76/‘77 was perhaps the most difficult for our family. There will be time later to recount these adventures so stayed tuned!

8. Sauntering into Retirement-1971

 Frits and I were married in England in September 1971. At that time couples were not so involved in the wedding plans and we certainly didn’t impose any rules on our guests. The extravagance of some and the need for perfection dictated mostly by the brides has become obscene and ridiculous. I have read of examples where the guests are not welcome unless all body piercing is removed, tattoos covered and even stating a minimum price for their gift. I have never been invited to such an event, I’m happy to say.

Since we lived across the ocean, my mother arranged everything and we just showed up. The day was warm and sunny and the hundred or so guests celebrated with us over a sit-down luncheon with the usual toasts and speeches. My father was not one for extravagance so there was no music or champagne. In his opinion sweet sparkling wine tasted much better than the real stuff. So we were toasted with Asti Spumante. It must have worked.  We are coming.up to our 49th anniversary. Many of today’s couples will not see their 10th or more importantly, grow old together. 

Our honeymoon began at a tiny pub in Windsor with a creaky bed and pub food, and we loved it. The Royals had nothing on us! The next morning we flew to Zurich, Switzerland, rented a car and traveled to Lake Lucerne for a few nights in a small hotel on the banks of the lake. Many years earlier, while traveling with my parents I was so taken by the beauty of the scenery, I decided this was where my husband (still to be determined) and I would be honeymooning. Happily, Frits was on board. 

From there we drove north, first visiting one of Frits’  cousin and family in Hamburg and then to his Morfar (mother’s father) in southern Denmark. Carl Henrik Knudsen by this time was in his eighties and living with his “companion” Blau. Blau showed us to our rooms, note plural, on our honeymoon no less, but grandfather stepped in offering an alternative. A single iron bed in the attic. Morning was announced by Morfar climbing the attic stairs while singing in full voice, a traditional Danish song. I guess he was making sure not to surprise us.

He still drove a car although a Norwegian pony would have been more to his liking. To the village we went, with the two of us in the backseat and our chauffeur rocking and rolling us around the bends at a speed probably not recommended. To be fair, he was driving a British car with right hand drive which might have thrown most of us off.

At the fish market many fish were poked to establish freshness and only the one that flapped the hardest was chosen by our host. Next he was to surprise us with a special treat. Chocolate shops are plentiful in Denmark where the chocolates are displayed in the window. With our noses pressed up against the glass we each pointed to the one that looked the most delectable.  With so many to choose from it was not a quick and easy decision although not one you could fail at! The chocolates were purchased and we mentally prepared for more squealing tires on our return trip.

It was a lovely visit and introduction but all too soon it was time to move on. More Danish family awaited our arrival.

Next stop was Copenhagen.  Most of Frits’ family lived close to the city so gathering them for the bride presentation was easily accomplished.  Frits had not spent much time with the cousins over the years so it was lovely for him to reconnect. Of course they all spoke excellent English so conversation was held in English all for the benefit of this pathetic one-language person. Frits has always spoken good Danish, be it somewhat old fashioned. Improving his language skills was on his to do list so often he could be seen off in a corner deep in a one-to-one with a cousin solving the problems of the world.

The family was so generous and accepting and lots of fun but even though we vowed to be back soon it would be 25 years before I stepped on Danish soil again.  Frits made several trips sometimes with one of the kids. Now in retirement with no commitments we would be planning more travel if not for Covid-19.

7. Sauntering into Retirement - and then there were the dogs

Dogs have always featured heavily in our lives. Growing up I was not allowed to have a dog but that didn’t stop me from ‘adopting’ any agreeable canine I found unattended and dragging it home claiming it was lost. My parents would have to phone the owner, usually identified by the tag on its collar, to come get it. 

So when I met Frits and he came with the beautiful, but intimidating, Beau, mentioned earlier, our future together looked promising. Beau went everywhere with Frits including on our dates.  Anyone approaching Frits’ truck quickly retreated when all 120 pounds of snarling dog threw himself against the closest window with little regard for any passenger in his line of fire. My mother’s shin bore the scar from one of these episodes until her dying day.

On one occasion Beau went visiting a neighbor who generously made the near disastrous decision to drive him home. He hopped willingly into the backseat of her car but would not allow her into the driver’s seat. No way was she going to open that door so with no other resource she called the police. Two officers with guns drawn approached the shaking car and ferocious animal and whipped open the door.  One very meek pup jumped out only too happy to be out of that hot car.

As Beau aged we thought it time to find a puppy to raise along side him.  Back in the day puppies were often free for the taking so it was not long before a Great Dane/Doberman cross joined us.  From that point on two dogs with staggered ages were the norm. We had some wonderful dogs both large and small including a 150 pound Bouvier called Angus, and a silkie terrier we called Daisy.

But one of our most beloved was Chief.  He and his six siblings were left at the humane society at just 5 weeks old on the very same day that I was there in search of a cat.  Not finding just the right kitty and about to leave, these brand new puppies rushed over in their wire cage yelping and whining for attention.  All, that is, but one very round golden pup who waddled from side to side much like some obese folk you see.  He had the sweetest face and softest eyes and I knew I was hooked. I was ready to take him home that minute but until all animals are at least 8 weeks old, vaccinated and neutered they cannot be adopted. First they must be fostered giving the foster parent the pick of the litter.

No more discussion needed. Those seven puppies were delivered the next day with a large wire playpen, food, bowls and toys and other than the slight roll of the eyes, my husband joined in with enthusiasm

Our entry/mud room had a tiled floor and was large enough to accommodate a 5 foot, round pen that we lined with newspaper.  These little bundles of joy happily ate, pooped, played and slept their way through the next four weeks developing very distinct personalities. Frits and I were on constant poop patrol, swiftly changing the sheets before 28 little paws could track said poop all over themselves and their brothers and sisters. They were easily distinguishable from each by their markings and coloring. What was most remarkable was their parentage. It was claimed that their mother was a English Springer Spaniel / Rottweiler cross and their father was a Pekingese! Hard to believe that this could even have happened yet traits of all three dogs could be seen in these puppies. The two golden ones were Chief and his sister Toffee. Clearly Chief had the spaniel’s domed head and love of water, the Rottweiler broad body and the squatty legs and flowing coat of a Pekingese. Others were black and tan like the Rottweiler or black and silky like a spaniel. 

Often during the day two or three puppies came out at a time to run around and socialize with Lucy, our Fox Terrier. It was November so play was confined to the house. Everything went in their mouths so watching both ends to minimize the puddles and furniture chewing kept us on our toes. The whole experience was great fun but it was somewhat of a relief when the time came to return them all for their shots and neutering. A day later we officially adopted Chief and enjoyed him well into his sixteenth year. In this photo he still looks puppyish at 15. 

More dog talk later

6. Sauntering into Retirement - 1974

Our first daughter, Devon, arrived in the Spring of 1974. By now our house was quite well along although far from finished. Still just the tiny bathroom in the new addition but a fabulous kitchen with a Garland restaurant stove and butcher block counters and a lovely dining room with wainscoting. Our bedroom was now in the main house but accessed through an unheated hall with an adjacent 2nd bedroom for the baby. I can’t remember exactly the order of things only that every spare moment and dollar went into that house.

By Christmas of 1975 the living room and 3 bedrooms were complete and the upstairs bathroom was roughed in and useable. We were looking forward to having the in-laws for a celebration of Christmas Eve and an overnight. We had no idea of the disaster that was looming.

Frits’ mother and stepfather owned a 165 acre farm in Randolph, Vermont, some 60 miles to our south. During his teenage years Frits spent his summers haying, milking, and tending other livestock alongside his parents. It was not an easy life with Mogens who had no children of his own and never developed any parenting skills. He and Grethe, both from Denmark had married when Frits was seven, fortunately after he had spent some of his most formative years with just his loving mother.

As Christmas approached Frits’s mother warned that Mogens early dementia was getting difficult to handle. We, I regret to say, had not been paying enough attention. Devon, at 18 months was just beginning to know about presents and as we decorated, trimmed the tree and prepared a traditional Danish meal, the excitement was building, only to be dashed soon after their arrival. Within minutes an argument ensued over the arrangement of our furniture. Mogens was confused about where he was and so nothing was in the ‘right’ place.

From that point on the Christmas Eve we had planned was lost, Devon and I were in tears, Frits was angry and fearful for our safety and poor Grethe had to drive home the next morning with a man she no longer knew.

After a brief period of hospitalization, Mogens died quietly the following Spring. 

After that disastrous beginning,Christmas Eve celebrations have become a wonderful tradition in our household. Sometimes quite small but as our family grows and more friends and their families join us, we have expanded to close to twenty. I wonder what it will be like in the year of COVID-19.

5. Sauntering into Retirement -2018

December 2017 marked the official end of my working for profit life. I was still struggling with chronic pain in my head and neck and it was time to find a solution or at least a way to live with it. Trips to the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota and many diagnostic tests here in Vermont and Boston had not turned up any specific cause other than nerve damage. Reducing my stress level, making time for exercise, yoga, massage, a good nutritional diet and rest seemed like the place to start.

A daily morning walk with the dogs on our trails has been a habit begun at least 20 years ago. Summer and winter, rain, snow or sunshine we are out there, sometimes before full light.  Thirty minutes of brisk up and down walking and talking, sharing thoughts and ideas, ranting about our current administration, and enjoying nature and time with each other and our dogs is good for the body and soul. Today I walk twice a day. Even better.

Eating healthy has always been a priority, well except for the copious amount of ice cream Frits and I partake in. Now I would have more time for preparing meals at home and raising vegetables.  I’ve always enjoyed baking and now could make all my own bread, with the help of a bread maker, muffins, scones, pies and crumbles and of course, ice cream. Neither Frits nor I, eat large quantities of anything, well except ice cream, so we are able to maintain our weight easily.

Once the holidays were over and winter had set in we settled into a mostly stay-at-home lifestyle that included time with friends and family but still I had time on my hands. Keeping my hands occupied it seemed, was going to be important. There was a time, back in the 80s, when I developed a small business making lamps with stenciled shades and applying stencils to T shirts, sweatshirts and the like. It was moderately successful.

One day, while surfing the internet I came upon needle felting. A woman in Russia made the most incredible birds and animals from wool and wire. I had to know how to do this! With the help of YouTube I created my first, very basic owl.

Not much talent needed here. As time went by my technique improved as I created many small birds and owls, some not too life-like but marginally good enough that I could give them away to friends and family. Soon I was over run with critters, not just birds but squirrels, chipmunks, foxes and other woodland creatures.

A friend and local gallery owner approached me about consigning some pieces. My intent was not to make a viable business and put pressure on myself but rather to keep my hands busy. However now I had a reason to keep stabbing that wool. My arthritic thumbs were not too happy but if I paced myself they held up.

I have added giraffes, cheetahs, elephants and many dogs to my collection, including some specific pets, copied from photos, as long lasting memories for their owners.

 

Of late, I’m into cats!! 

Some very talented Russian women still have me beat but, you know, retirement could go on for a very long time!

4 - Sauntering into Retirement - 2001

A chance comment at a drinks party in 2001 when a brief unhappy time of employment needed to end, changed the course of the next 15 years.  An offer to join Pall Spera Company, a highly respected Stowe real estate office, intrigued me although not enough at first, to send me running to long-discarded licensing books. I had had a brief dalliance with real estate sales back in the early 80’s when the children were young and my time was not my own. After only a few months I warehoused my license with the state and moved on. Little did I know how useful this would be in the future.

Had it not been for the truly impossible situation in my current job, no details here, I may not have considered the offer.  However after researching my options, I was relieved to discovered that my license could be reinstated all these years later with just a few hours of continuing ed. Today this is not the case as regulations have tightened. 

So armed with a license and very little knowledge I embarked on the 4th and final career of my life. 

Expecting a somewhat more laid back life it quickly became apparent this was not to be.  The learning curve is quite steep in the beginning and, in fact, leveled off very little over the years. Staying slightly ahead of one’s competitors meant being tech savvy and pushing ahead with new ideas and products that would appeal to the customer. Working side by side with a colleague drove us both to develop an innovative style that would put us in the forefront of our company in sales.

As good as that felt, it was exhausting. My days were long and even taking some time away from the office did not mean I was free from the constant pressure. Yes, I could have turned off my phone, my computer, my IPad but I enjoyed what I did and my competitive spirit did not allow for less than the best I could provide. 

I realize now, in retirement, that I have been driven my whole life to try to be the best even when my natural abilities didn’t allow. That’s a lot of pressure to put on oneself. I have no regrets but maybe I could have been a little easier on myself.