Apple Picking Sweet Sixteens

     Fall is my favorite season for all of the obvious reasons: cooler temps, gorgeous leaves, corn mazes, radiantly blue skies, it's my birthday, etc.   But one of the highlights of fall has always been picking apples at Afton Apple Orchard.  When my daughter and nieces were young, we started the tradition and ended up going nearly every year until they graduated from high school.  Girlfriends and boyfriends would join us, as well as my mom, ex-husband, sisters and brother-in-law.
     There's a huge smiling red plywood apple with an eye cut out so our faces could be the "apple's eye" for pics, or the kids could stand next to the gigantic ruler to see how tall they'd gotten since the last visit.  I think this was our last visit before college encroached:

      There's one picture of my daughter and nieces standing next to this 6 foot yellow ruler.  They were in that wonderful middle school stage when makeup and clothes didn't matter yet because getting out of the house fast was the most important goal.  The picture still sits on my dresser.  There's just something so innocent about the girls with their hair pulled back in uncombed ponytails or blown around carelessly, their huge, proud smiles sporting as much silver as the grill on a 1959 Cadillac, funny fitting pants and tops that are too short, long, big or small.  I cherish those years.
     The actual apple picking took maybe 20-30 minutes but what fun teaching the girls how to find the best ones, and of course, reminding them not too eat too many apples while picking. More than once there would be complaints of ailing stomachs on the way back.  I secretly hope that if grand kids start to come along, I can share apple picking with them as well.
     Part of the experience included riding a tractor-pulled wagon full of straw bales that everyone used as seats.  It would pull us around the entire orchard stopping at the Cortlands, the Macintoshes, the Paula Reds, and finally, the Sweet Sixteens, where we would get off.  The secret hint of cherries in this variety made it my fave years ago, and it still is.  As the years went on and the hay bales got too challenging to tackle, my mom stayed home.  Then the girls were in college, so my sisters and I no longer made the annual trip to the orchard.  I continue to go every fall around late September, but I no longer do this:

Instead I choose a beautiful day to drive to Afton Orchard, where I walk directly up to their apple store.  I am completely oblivious to the hay wagon, giant plywood apple and ruler and hundreds of trees bending with the weight of luscious apples.  I open the doors, walk to the shelves marked "Firsts" and find the best bag of already-picked Sweet Sixteens. Then I drive home.

Think I'll eat one of these babies right now.

Manual Labor

     This week I decided to paint the garage door, a tall square column by my front door and 2 metal lawn chairs.  I've been in my house nearly 20 years and have painted the door and post once, so I guess I shouldn't complain, but I'm going to.  Wednesday I spent a few hours scraping, sanding, bleaching and rinsing.  Oh, and unscrewing my house numbers, flag holder and welcome sign holder - in other words, doing the prep work.  I know some would find this all rewarding, but I thought it was a pain.  The next day I started painting at 10:30 and finished at 4:30.  I put on 2 coats of paint and ended up painting the vinyl trim and the bottom of my storm door which has erupted with some mysterious holes.  I have no idea if it's kosher to put latex exterior paint on vinyl, but I didn't care.  Unfortunately the bottom of the door is spanky white now in contrast to the dirty white of the rest of the door, but before I paint the entire door, I'm going to see how the painted part puts up with winter.  The metal chairs were white and had begun sporting rusty spots as a result of a few straight line wind episodes hurling them across the yard.  I painted them gray.
        When I was younger I enjoyed this kind of work and felt really accomplished when I'd complete a job like this.  True, everything looks much better (except the door, but it's in experiment mode.)  My biggest reward, in contrast to past painting projects, was when I remembered I won't be painting my family room and guest bathroom myself because for the second time in my life I have hired a painter to do the job.  I had been feeling somewhat guilty for spending the money even though I had a Groupon to cover part of it, but that's over.  This 60-year-old bod is no longer friends with manual labor.  Not fun.  No no no.

  
This is not a picture of me.  This is a picture of how I'd like to be when I paint. 

 I did get to celebrate completion of the task by having a great dinner at my mom's (she's 86 and still cooks dinners for us.)  Both of my nieces were there, which is a treat as one goes to school in Iowa and the other lives in Washington.  If only my baby could have been there too, but she was busy in Cambridge.  I guess I shouldn't call her a baby anymore since she is almost 23 now, but you know how moms are.  We NEVER let go.

Another Good Thing About Retirement

     Yesterday was another banner retirement day.
     After morning exercises, feeding K-Man, "walking" him and going on my  own 3 mile walk, I spent some time going through cupboards, cleaning them, throwing things away and organizing.  This has pretty much been the routine for the last few weeks, so I'm getting in the groove.  So is K-Man.  Instead of waking me up at 6 or 7 every morning, he comes up to my room at 8ish now. Shih Tzus aren't known for being quick on the uptake, so this is quite an accomplishment in only a few weeks.  I still wake up early, but I have the luxury of reading in bed for awhile.  Talk about a treat....
     Early in the afternoon I went to my mom's house as she was having a sump pump put in to try to take care of a water problem she's had for years.  We're keeping our fingers crossed that this will work and that another more drastic and expensive step won't have to be taken.
     Then I got to meet my friend MMM at a local spot called Sunsets. 

      They have a great happy hour.  Wine is only $3.50 a glass and generous appetizer servings are $4-$5.  We split a huge quesadilla and equally gigantic plate of chicken flatbread with feta cheese, black olives, peppers, tomatoes and, of course, chicken.  We each got out of there paying only $14 including the tip!  Poor MMM had put in a full day of work and run errands before we met.

  I put in a leisurely day of exercise, organizing, visiting and eating.  Talk about relaxing.
  This slowed down pace is just one more good thing about retirement.

More House Purging

     I'm on a roll.  When the Animal Ark guy said that they'll pick up any furniture "they think they can sell," I started getting nervous.  The pieces are in good shape, but there are some spots where varnish is missing so I decided to try my Mom's sage advice and use a product called Old English Scratch Cover.  It's a furniture polish that is tinted to match your furniture, so I got some for dark furniture at Home Depot.  It's a miracle product.  The bad spots on the furniture look so much better.  They haven't completely disappeared, but almost. Then I started to go crazy with the light version I borrowed from my Mom and began sprucing up my furniture, I mean the stuff that's staying!  Low and behold, those water marks I've been looking at for years are gone.  Let me restate:  Miracles took place.

     I became quite philosophical during the two hours I spent getting my furniture respectable enough for the "free guys" to pick it up.  I remembered about 40 years ago getting really excited when a $5 ratty old piece of furniture spoke to me at a garage sale saying, "Buy me.  I'll look beautiful once you've sanded, stained and varnished me."  I guess those days are long gone.  Now buyers want everything used looking like new, no matter what the price tag.  The same holds true for houses.  Remember those fixer-uppers where the previous owner didn't do a thing to ready the place for the market, and instead the new buyer would look at the good deal and think about how he/she could work magic and make it look gorgeous for a little more money?  Now houses need to be ready to go.  You HAVE to paint, replace the carpeting, put new counters in and get those old sinks out before you can even put it on the market.  You even have to hire a stager now.  Well I decided if that's the new game in town, I'm going to do the upgrading at least a year before I sell my house so I can enjoy the newness for awhile.
     I need to sign off as my daughter just called from Cambridge and wants to Skype so I can see her new house.  She's living in a house with 3 other 20-somethings and I haven't seen it yet.  Can't wait!

House Purging

     Friday was an unusually gorgeous fall day, so my friend T-Man and I walked from his place to a local Keys Cafe for breakfast.  The eggs and french toast were very much appreciated and the 3 mile walk very pleasant.  Once again, I was grateful for the terrific walking paths at our disposal so that we didn't need to take our lives in our hands by walking on a busy street.
     My daughter says it's A-OK to have the Animal Ark folks pick up her old dresser and night stand, so there is now a total of 11 pieces of old furniture that will make the big exodus next week.  I've been busy emptying drawers, condensing files, tossing, tossing, tossing.  The items that are keepers are here only temporarily as I'm setting them aside for a huge garage sale our city has every May.  By June my house will be wonderfully purged.
     Part of my lawn was horribly dried up and bare, so today I raked out the dead grass, added some good soil, scattered grass seed and put the dead grass on top to hold moisture in a little better.  I hope it works.  I hope it can look like this again next spring: 

    
     I had the television on for awhile, but every news station is commemorating 9/11 and it made me very morose.  All of those pictures and survivors brought back vivid memories, and once again I was in the little back room of my tiny middle school library watching the first tower get hit and then the second.  More horrible news followed about a plane crashing before it could hit its target.  All of those feelings of disbelief, sadness,  anger, confusion and hatred came back, and I was once again in those surreal moments.  I mean no disrespect by choosing not to watch all of the ceremonies today, the tenth anniversary, but I don't need them to remind me of that day and how so many died and how so many are left sick or still grief-stricken.  Instead I decided to plant grass because thinking about seeds sprouting with something growing is a good balance to the sadness that unnecessary death brings. 
     I guess we all handle grief in our own way.

More Fun

     On the very morning of the very day when I would normally be seeing kids for the first time this year, I met some other retired teachers at Taste of Scandinavia for breakfast.  It was a gorgeous day and I had lefse stuffed with eggs, ham and cheese.  I thought I'd feel somewhat sad about being studentless, but another recent retiree and I agreed that all we felt was happy not to have to get up so early!  The lefse helped to add to this happy state as well.
     I then had my first One to One appointment at the Apple Store, where I recently purchased a wonderful MacBook Pro.  A sweet boy patiently explained how to use html to set up a website.  Not that I'll ever actually do it, but who knows?  Anyway, I love learning that stuff.
     Much less fun but one of those dreaded necessities was what I tackled yesterday:  washing windows.  This is a job I always do in the summer because I hate it, and it would be just too depressing to do it on a weekend or short vacation during school, so usually I end up doing it on a hot summer morning because of poor planning.  For some inexplicably anal reason, I always start on the east side which is the hottest, of course, because it's the dang morning.  I know it makes no sense, but that's just one of many such things in my world of the ridiculous.  Anyway, the job was still its usual miserable self, but it was only 58 degrees which made it almost a treat.  Well not a treat, but not as horrible as before.
      Today I'm taking advantage of a great deal Best Buy has going on in September where you can bring in up to three old electronic devices for recycling and in exchange receive 100 "points" per item to use at Best Buy.  I have no idea how much that will buy, but no matter what, it's better than having to pay to recycle.

      Also, I found out that the Animal Ark (a no kill shelter for animals) will haul away some furniture I no longer want, and having taken a peek at Craig's List, I know wouldn't sell.  They are the only organization I could find who will come into the house to get the items without charging.  I'm so glad to have found them, and I love what they do for abandoned pets.  A win-win deal.
     So far it's true what past retirees kept telling me: "You'll be so busy you won't believe it."  I am and I don't.

No Labor Day Blues

     Today is Labor Day, the day before school really starts.  Even though staff have been back for a week, the kids don't start until tomorrow.  This means that today is normally the day I spend trying to talk myself out of the blues and trying to focus on the positive.  After all, while it's sad that summer is officially over, there is that excitement of something new in the air, of anticipating the high levels of energy and demands that the new school year brings. While I might have been able to hold that thought for a bit, it seems I'd always drift back to the blues.
     Not anymore.  Tonight I'm going to stay up late watching old movies and sleep until 7:00 tomorrow, normally the time I'm at school.

     Official end of summer?   Not in my world.

Farmers Market - Hmong in Minnesota

     On Sunday mornings I like to go to our local farmers market.  Last week I was able to get those tiny brussels sprouts which I roasted with garlic and tossed with balsamic vinegar, more garlic and olive oil.  Excellent!  Today I latched onto fingerling potatoes, raspberries and cherry tomatoes.  I love that most of the stands are run by Hmong families.  Not only does this remind me of my own roots since I am the progeny of farmers in this area, but it reminds me that the American Dream is indeed alive and kicking.
     When the Hmong first started enrolling in St. Paul schools in the 80s, I was teaching English.  One of my class requirements was that the kids keep a journal.  Reading about the Winter Snow Daze Dance in so many of the entries, I was taken aback when I came across my first Hmong journal in which a student described something very different than dances, boyfriends, clothes and who was this week's worst ho in the school.  Instead, this journal described running from soldiers who were shooting at him and his family, how hard it was crossing a wide river with so many of his family members and what it was like to sleeplessly hide in the jungle until they could reach a camp in Thailand.
     Over the years I came to know many such stories and absolutely marveled at how these families struggled to save money, work all day and go to school at night. They proudly encouraged their children to reach pinnacles at school because that was THE ticket to success.  Before I retired I was fortunate to have many Hmong educators as colleagues.  One English teacher had even been a former student of mine in 8th grade, and there she was, excelling in the classroom and sitting next to me at faculty meetings!  Talk about feeling old...... These professionals do their culture and the field of education proud, and I can't express what a privilege it has been to work with them.  They are the success stories and examples of why our country is all the richer for the immigrants we've invited to our cultural table.

     So when I spend a little extra on produce at the farmers market, I don't mind one bit. 

Walking Paths

     For awhile when I was in college, I enjoyed running.  It was hard work but very freeing.  Part of the reason it was hard was because of the Salem Lights I used for a warm up and cool down.  When push came to shove, the Salem Lights won and I quit running.  I finally stopped smoking 11 years later, but by that time I had other things on my mind like getting married.  Fast forward another 11 years past a daughter's birth and a divorce, and I find myself in the suburbs surrounded by walking paths.  Because my insurance company said I had to start moving if I wanted to keep my co-pays from going up, I did.  By this time my knees could no longer easily support the extra 40 lbs. I'd put on since college so instead of jogging, I walked.
     At first I had to drag myself out of the house to make the 1.5 mile trek, but by the end of the summer, just about the time school began once again, I was starting to build up a little more distance.  The logical step would be to simply change my walking time from mornings to late afternoons or evening, but school left me motivationless and it never happened.
     Even though walking alone can sometimes be intimidating, last summer I decided to stop being a fraidy cat and to explore the many walking paths around me.  After all, I'd now been in this area for 18 years and not once had anyone ever been hurt on one of the paths.  It was then I began to realize how lucky I was to be walking distance from three different lakes.  One lake actually has about 200 feet of flowers someone planted and maintains. 

Another has a long fishing dock.  There are trash cans along every path, very convenient if you're walking your dog. 

We're a friendly bunch, too, we path users.  Nearly everyone I pass says, "Good morning," and bikers frequently remind me not to deviate too much by saying, "Coming up on your left." 

     Last spring the police reported that a woman had been assaulted on one of the paths, but it turned out to be a fabrication.  Thank goodness.  My paranoia breathed a sigh of relief and went back to its normal level.
     I'm now walking 2-4 miles a day and thoroughly enjoying it.  This year when fall comes, I'll still be walking and I'm hoping that when winter hits, I'll be able to make the short hike to a nearby huge Target and walk around the inside perimeter a few times.  I was told that 4 times around is a mile.  I hope they don't get sick of me.  My plan doesn't include being chased by a pack of irate red shirted thugs.  I'll just tell them that when spring comes I'll be out of their hair.
     

Some Things I Like About Retirement So Far

Six pluses about being retired:

1. No longer does John Grayson of Overnight America wake me up at 4:40 a.m.  I now wake up to my internal clock.  This morning i caught myself actually smiling when I remembered I didn't have to get up.
2. I can stay up past 9:00 p.m. during the week and not obsess about how sluggish I'll be the next day.
3. I am no longer required to look at myself in the mirror at 4:45 and wonder how to get rid of the potato sacks under my eyes.
4. I can go out to lunch in the middle of the week.
5. Instead of cramming work, lawn mowing, grocery shopping and errands to Target and Home Depot all in one day, just one of those items is now my "thing" for the day.
6. My daily morning walk will continue into the fall, winter and spring.

Day 1

On my first official day of retirement I went to our state fair and took the bus.  I decided this would be a good way to stop myself from driving to school accidentally.  For me the main draw of the fair is the unhealthy food: specifically, cheese curds, chocolate shakes and pronto pups.  I had a pronto pup for breakfast, and quickly followed up with the curds and a shake.  Since I'm thinking about replacing my kitchen counter, I investigated an eco-friendly counter made of resin and glass.  It was surprisingly attractive but the wrong color for my kitchen.  Maybe in a few years there will be more variety.  After a few hours I left but returned that evening to see the Happy Together concert at the Grandstand.  It was very nostalgic listening to The Buckinghams, Turtles, Association, Mark Lindsay and the Grass Roots.  Mark Lindsay can still kick like a Rockette, which in itself made the concert worthwhile.  All in all, it was a splendid start to official retirement.