Before I retired I always looked forward to Saturday, a day usually free of obligations or schedules. Although I am very comfortable with schedules,  I do enjoy the occasional un-scheduled time. Now, post retirement, most of my days are scheduled by me, open to tweaking.

Before June 30, 2020, my most frequently asked question was, “When are you going to retire?”  I was, after all, 20 past being eligible for Social Security. Now the FAQ is “What are you doing since you retired?” or “Are you enjoying retirement?” or “How is retirement?”

The answers are: “Lots of things” “Yes” and “Not what I expected.”

During the last years of my working career, when I thought about what retirement would look l like for me, I expected to spend more time with my friends, go to Bingo each Friday, visit folks who are home bound, read and write more, make pictures albums.  I didn’t plan to spend so much time at home.

But, I’m convinced that is temporary and for now it’s okay. I enjoy the reading and writing I’ve accomplished. I’ve shredded documents that have been stored in the top of the closet since 2000. I have taken two trunk loads to Goodwill.  If I have a sleepless night, no problem. No alarm is set to wake me the next morning.

I have NOT become involved in daytime television. I turn on the TV at 4:30 to watch Jeopardy, after that a little of the local news until I don’t want to listen any more. With the help of Netflix, Prime, and CBS All Access, I have discovered many shows I missed the first time around.

Only one day have I worn PJs all day … almost. After several hours of writing, I took a shower and dressed before sitting down with Alex Trebek.

This past Saturday (in real time) was the annual White County Creative Writers Conference, always a highlight in my year. We weren’t sure we’d make it this year but it happened with all the safety precautions in place and I had the fun of being Contest Chair and handing out awards.

Back to the weeks with 6 Saturdays and one Sunday. What project will I find to occupy my time?

It was a great honor to be inducted into the Arkansas Writers Hall of Fame on Saturday, August 1, 2020.

Thank you, again, to the Arkansas Pioneer Branch of the National League of American Pen Women for this awesome honor.

Thanks also to the Pen Women for hosting the Arkansas Writers Conference each year for the past 76 years. The goal for the event when it was first conceived was to provide learning and networking for writers of all levels. It certainly fulfills it mission.

Here is the video of my  acceptance speech.

Heard on the 5:00 news: Someone has invented a soft, pink, pad to fit the icy, steel plate on the mammogram machine. The intent is to lessen the discomfort a patient (woman) might experience when taking the test.

Whoop-de-doo! After 50 years of using this instrument of torture, science has come up with an idea to make it easier on us. The technician being interviewed said some women might actually avoid their annual check-up because they are afraid of experiencing pain.

While I think it’s great to minimize the trauma of this procedure, most women are fairly familiar with discomfort. Can you say endometriosis? Or menstrual cramps? Child birth? Not to mention nursing a baby who is teething.

But, I guess that little pink pad is a step in the right direction.

About 30 years ago, I was scheduled for a needle biopsy. I arrived at outpatient registration about 8:00 a.m. — fasting. AKA no morning coffee. Three hours later, still fasting, I was taken to the lab for a pre-biopsy mammogram.

I had a raging caffeine-withdrawal headache and the technician seemed unfamiliar with her surroundings. I stood in front of the machine and “leaned in,” the best position for a good picture.

As my bare body touched the plate which had probably just come from the freezer, I felt a familiar aura.

“I’m going to faint,” I told the technician.

“Wait a minute,” she said.

Wait a minute? This is not a good time for you?

Sorry, I could not wait. When I woke on the floor, she was asking if we might try again. Success on the second try.

The fluid in the cyst was “suspicious,” which called for a lumpectomy. I consider that I survived a close call.

So, go ahead, women. Get that yearly check-up.

They have a soft, pink pad waiting for you.

While cleaning out a desk drawer, I came across this note from my youngest son: “I’m over at Alex’s. I’ll explain the fire extinguisher later.”

Now, 15 odd years later I don’t remember what that was all about, but it brings back memories that make me smile.

Back in the Seventies, my other son called me at work one day to tell me that he had “Good News” for me when I came home.  I was curious (and a little apprehensive) of course, but no amount of coaxing would move him to tell me anything other than it was “Good News.”

I worked 18 miles away in the city and I have to admit I drove home with a little trepidation. I remembered the day a few weeks earlier when I found a 7-foot cross in my living room. While striking the set after the praise musical, the youth director had asked, “Does anyone want this cross?” Of course Steve did.

So, on this day, I could not fathom what he might consider Good News. As it turned out, it was a copy of the Good News Bible, just recently released. Rather anti-climactic actually, after I had allowed my imagination go wild.

My boys have thus entertained me over the years. Soon after Phillip had moved out on his own, he told me, “You know, if I keep my dirty clothes in this duffel bag then when it’s time to do laundry I don’t have to gather it up.”

Had I never mentioned that?

Or, “If you squeeze out the kitchen sponge it won’t get all smelly.”

My sons have two older sisters and some day I’ll tell you stories about them. But, here I have to say having them first in no way prepared me for the boys that came after.

I got the letter yesterday. When I saw the return address, I knew what it was. I knew that inside that envelope was the announcement of the end of an era.

They call it modernizing, cutting costs, streamlining services. Of course that translates into deleting jobs and discontinuing certain services to the consumer.

Sometime in the next few months, the Arkansas Democrat Gazette is going “paperless” across the state. Beginning this summer, they will be almost completely online. The only issue published and distributed will be the Sunday Edition. The cost for delivery of that one newspaper? $8.00 per week. Wowzer.

But take heart. We who have supported this newspaper through our adult lives are not left without a solution. ADG will loan (or rent) us an iPad.

Every morning I can curl up in my favorite chair with a cup of coffee and the rented tablet. I can scroll and read to my heart’s content. I can cut out a recipe … whoops, maybe not. Probably can’t work the daily Soduku or crossword either.

Nope, it won’t be the same, which makes me a little sad.

Like I said, the end of an era.

Of course, the easiest way to open a can is with an electric can opener. But these handy small appliances may soon be obsolete.

A few years ago, Campbell’s Soup Company put out a line of soups with pop-top lids. Convenient, I suppose, for campers who forgot to bring along a can opener and, having caught no fish or shot any game, were now forced to eat the back-up meal packed by their pessimist wives.

The idea of pop-tops caught on and nowadays most cans have those ‘easy open’ lids. And just to be sure you pop that top, manufacturers make the bottom of the can round, unfriendly to any type of automatic or manual opener.

Soft drinks pop open easily, needing to make only a small hole to drink from. But try opening a large can of chicken, or 16 ounces of spaghetti sauce, without cutting yourself or spilling most of the contents. Thus the need for these instructions.

Pull up the loop on top of the can. Never mind you just broke a nail. Soldier on, you can fix it later.

Yank as hard as ever you can on the loop. This will probably break the loop away from the rest of the lid. Hopefully it will also make a slit wide enough to slip in the blade of a paring knife. With a twisting motion, increase the opening as much as possible.

When the lid is nearly off the can, you will again meet great resistance, making it impossible to budge the lid further. A pair of strong-grip needle-nose pliers should do the trick and finish the job.

Be sure to work over a pan in the sink to take care of spills. Also, keep a First Aid kit handy.

There. Isn’t that better than messing with an electric can opener?

These instructions come with a glossary of appropriate words that have no power to move the job along but might relieve some tension.

Next: How to open a peppermint without alarming the whole church.