Four grown kids, six delightful grandchildren, constant, long-time partner. A retired academic, I'm adapting to life in a Vancouver condo after decades in a waterfront home on a very small (Canadian) West Coast island. Keen to discover what new priorities emerge, what interests persist, in this urban life after 60!
See that solid bank of fog just off the next island? It rolled our way by midday Friday, hiding the sunshine we had enjoyed for a few hours.
It settled in thickly, wrapping us up in its grey fuzzy damp, although it was blown out of the way by evening to reveal a sparkling sky, waxing moon. . .
back again Saturday morning, sadly, and even when it rolled back, it revealed only more grey, if pushed a bit higher into the sky . . .
We didn't mind too much, though, as we could watch the antics of the sea lions in the bay. There seem to be two groups, 8-12 in each, and there were some frantic conversations, particularly when neighbours began power-sawing up some beach logs. Besides the grunts, moans and sharp, noisy barks, an astonishing series of dolphin-leaps kept us at the window, fascinated.
Harriet was a bit intimidated, quite frankly, by the cacophony, but the dramatic arcs in and out of the water eventually appeased her. . .
Friday night, we enjoyed a lovely, simple meal with my visiting former student. I spent a happy couple of hours putting it together Friday afternoon: the seafood chowder from this recipe, the peasant-bread-in-a-bowl from this one, and then an apple pie I'd put together and tucked into the freezer back in October.
Luckily, my main preparation for next week's classes is reading -- finishing a novel for one course, a poetry collection for another, both rather happy tasks. So I gave myself over to the granddaughter-cuddling and the soup-making and the bread-making, some of the very best domestic ways to be in the moment, There will be even more of these in retirement.
Speaking of which, thank you so much for all your kind words about my decision to move more quickly toward that next phase. . .
Our visitors have left -- Paul's just taken them to the big ferry, leaving me in the quiet house, catching up on my reading. They, on the other hand, have first a kilometre's walk to get to our boat, then a boat ride down the harbour to drop them off at the ferry. After that ride, they'll be met by Harriet's Daddy and take the bus, then the Skytrain, before they nestle back into their sweet little home. Hope you're settling into your own comfort, wherever you are. . .