Doing As We Please

Today is Monday. Since retiring the day no longer strikes dread into the very core of my being. It’s just another day. Since we’re doing as we please, Hump Day and TGIF no longer have the same meaning either.

Working As We Please

When we return to Michigan I’ll be working again, but working in a campground store is a different kind of job. Most people who come into the store are happy. Some are not, but if you come into a campground store and are crabby, that’s on you. Not my problem, not my concern. I’ll smile and be nice and you can simply move along because I would suspect nothing will make you happy.

Last summer I had someone complain to the owner about me. They said I was rude. Ouch. I have no reason to be rude to anyone. I’m guessing, being slightly deaf, they said something to me and I either didn’t hear them or I misunderstood what they said. I would guess 75 percent of the disagreements between King and I are because we can’t hear for poo. Point is, some people simply look for a reason to be mad – All. The. Time. Life goes on.

This week we are at Sweetwater Summit Regional Park. It’ is part of the San Diego County Park system. It’s not a very rural park but sits (not surprisingly) on a summit with a view of the surrounding mountains, reservoir, golf course and homes. There are equestrian trails that we enjoy hiking when we walk Petra. The campsites are surrounded by hedges that offer some privacy. It’s comfortable and we can pretty much do as we please.

Doing as we please

That generally means watching old westerns and Andy Griffith reruns on TV, taking naps and sitting by the campfire ring. Sometimes we even light the wood. I’m still crocheting and reading paranormal romance novels.

Last night we watched the Super Bowl – King’s preferred team won. Our neighbor who pulled in just before the game started (3:30 p.m. in California), was dressed in Eagles’ green. They did not drown their sorrows into the night. And we didn’t celebrate. The game ended just in time for King to make his normal bedtime. It’s not that we are old, it’s more that sleep comes easily these days.

To Groceries or Not to Groceries

So, as I said, today is Monday. I’m guessing we will go get a few groceries at some point. If I were to take heed of the Facebook posts I’ve been reading lately, we can’t go early in the morning as our slow driving will disrupt those going to work; we can’t go during the lunch hour because we are old, slow and in the way; we already missed the weekend shopping because that’s reserved for those who are still employed and retirees are just in the way. So we will be going sometime before lunch or maybe after. Or maybe tomorrow. We are, after all, retired. Days have little meaning. It’s one of the perks of retirement. Doing as we please.

I smile to myself when I read the crude aging comments on Facebook. It’s not as if those commenting can change the inevitable. Time and life march on and on and on. Remember, you can’t stop getting older, but you don’t have to be old.