The Bag Lady puts herself out there

It's been nine days since my last post. It's not because there's nothing going on. It's because I'm putting myself out there on multiple fronts. One of them is fun and three of them are scary.

First, the fun one. Last week my 13-year-old grandson Kyle was looking at the world map in our entryway. It's full of pins showing where Art and I have traveled. I said to him, "If you had all the money you wanted, and all the time, where in the world would you want to go?" He said, "New York City". Really? The next time he came over I said, "Kyle, by your 15th birthday I will take you to New York City." This time it was his turn. "Really, Grandma?" Really!

So yesterday I spent a couple of hours on the websites of the two home exchange clubs we belong to. I sent out about 40 requests. So far, I have six who said "no, thank you" and one who said "let me talk to my wife about this". We'll use companion fares and miles and we'll get Kyle and Grandma and Grandpa to New York City. Probably next year.

Now, the scary ones, in order of the fear intensity.

1. At the suggestion of a blogging friend, I'm coordinating a weekend gathering in October for half a dozen women. I've only met two of them in person, but I've read the blogs of the rest of them. Everyone sounds interesting and I am really looking forward to the weekend. But I am only just barely an extrovert on the personality tests. I'm much better in writing than I am in person. What if I don't have anything to say after the first ten minutes? Too late, though. I'm committed.

2. I've created a media sheet for my Viet Nam book and it's time for me to go to the library and three independent booksellers to pitch it. I get a knot in my stomach just thinking about it. I want to memorize a pitch but I can't think of a good one except, "Please put copies of my self-published book on a table before Veterans Day, so people will buy it for their veterans." Actually, I want to assume the fetal position. I am not a marketer. But we're leaving town in a week and I committed to the writers group I belong to that I'd go to all four places before then. So I went to the library today, talked to the manager and dropped off my book. I was so nervous that when she opened the book to look through it, I kept talking instead of shutting up and letting her look. I learned from that experience, anyway. I'd like to think I'll go to the first bookstore tomorrow, but I'll probably put it off because it's so scary.

3. I talked to a houseguest/friend last month about a memorable trip he and his wife took to Africa last year with a friend who coordinates travel with a private outfitter in Kenya. It sounded so interesting that my husband Art - who has always maintained he has no interest in going to Africa - agreed to go. This week I called the houseguest/friend, got the name of his friend, and called him. We spent three hours on the phone and I am now working on an itinerary for two weeks in Kenya and Tanzania - probably next August.

This is the scariest of my projects. Why? Because the cost is nearly double what we budget for travel in a year. The Bag Lady woke up from her long slumber and muttered about how we're going to run out of money if we do this.

Here's the deal. Africa is going to be a costly trip no matter when we go. Even a carefully budgeted one. But we're never going to have more money than we do now, and we're never going to be any younger than we are now. If not now, probably never. Am I willing to forego a trip to Africa to observe the Great Migration just because the Bag Lady is muttering that someday we'll wish we had that money back to put food on the table?

I'm working on the itinerary even though I'm not absolutely certain yet about this trip. I'm thinking about asking friends if they'd like to go along. Six people can travel more economically than two, and the shared experience would be wonderful. Especially the three days in an orphanage, where Art fixes electrical and plumbing stuff and I read to kids while they cluster around me. Or the night in a village where we are the only foreigners, and where we buy a goat from a woman in the village and then give it to the villagers so we can share a meal. See, it's details like that I can't, can't pass up. If I have the courage to put those things on the itinerary, and to tell the Bag Lady to be quiet.

Weeks like this remind me that my Bag Lady still watches.

Are you sleeping?

Recently I've been having trouble getting to sleep. Once I do, it's fitful until about 2 a.m. After that, I'm a rock until 7:30. It hasn't always been this way. I attributed it to an older bladder that kept me waking up.

I shared a motel room with my sister on a trip back in May. One morning I woke up and she said, "Man, did you snore! And I was watching you. I think you have sleep apnea."

I was surprised, because no one had ever told me that. I figured she was being ultra sensitive since she's a first-year nursing student. Besides, my husband has sleep apnea and I was nothing like him! Art fell asleep at friends' houses after dinner, at intersections waiting for the light to change, in meetings, and his snoring kept me awake many nights. Three years ago I badgered him into being tested for sleep apnea. He did it only at my insistence, and not very gracefully. Sure enough, he was diagnosed with severe sleep apnea and fitted with a CPAP machine. He now sleeps like a rock, with no snoring.

When I got home from my trip I sent an email to my doc asking whether I could be referred to the sleep center. The first reader of my email in the doc's office sent a referral to the sleep center. The second reader was my doc, who directed me to take the Epworth test for daytime sleepiness. I scored a six; sleep apnea can be diagnosed with a score of ten. Doc said he couldn't make a strong case for referring me to the sleep center.

The next week, I got a call from the sleep center. I told them what the doc had said and they said I could come in anyway, for an evaluation. I did.

Based on several factors (weight, circumference of neck, configuration of open-mouthed throat), I was set up for a home test. I took it the night before last. I took the machine back yesterday morning. By 2:00 the results were in: I have moderate sleep apnea. I'll be fitted in the next couple of weeks with an APAP machine - it's the generation after CPAP and it delivers air at a varying pressure depending on what's needed, rather than Continuously.

As I look back, I shouldn't have been surprised. My sleep habits had changed, but it happened so gradually I hadn't noticed. I'm looking forward to my sleep aid. I expect I'll have much improved sleep.

Are you sleeping?

Time for planning

I didn't do much planning for this summer. My husband Art's knee surgery was June 8 and I knew, for the two months after, I'd be fairly indisposed, as I was his primary caregiver and his ride. I knew it would be tough. It was tougher than I'd expected, though. He was kind of cranky and I was kind of isolated and let's just say I'm very glad that's over with! After a short introspective transition I'm feeling like myself again and ready for what's next. If I claim to be saying "yes" to life, I need to get back to that.

What's coming up first is our fifth six-day cruise on the schooner Heritage, a windjammer sailing out of Rockland, Maine. We leave three weeks from today and I have nothing to wear. Sigh. I hate to shop and I've recently lost 10 pounds. I have older stuff I can drag out but nothing matches. Maybe I'll go as Raggedy Ann or maybe I'll race through Penneys this week and see what's on sale. I shouldn't be complaining, but I am.

Art's daughter Laura is having a destination wedding in October - we're flying to Cancun and driving an hour to Akumel. We'll be there six days. Again, nothing to wear. The last time I bought a dress was five years ago for Art's son Jason's wedding. I've been tasked with shopping for Art's outfit at Tommy Bahama, and I logged in today and found some simple dresses that I hope will work. As I've said, shopping is nowhere near on my top ten list of things to do. For our gift to Laura we have bought plane tickets for three of her siblings and one sister-in-law. I heard today there's a wedding video being planned, so I'll be looking through old photos in the upcoming weeks. Last I heard it was going to be a very simple affair. Not so much, though, I guess.

I'm also beginning to plan for a fall weekend gathering of some women I met online. Most likely all I'll do is coordinate, and hopefully other people will be in charge of the food. At my house, Art does all the planning and shopping and cooking, so my abilities in that area have gone pretty much dormant.

Then, in early December, we'll be having a holiday celebration for daughter Laura and her husband Brian. I thought she wanted something simple for her west coast gathering, but her mother Nancy and I talked today and I believe the event has expanded a bit to include "a few friends" as well as relatives, so now there are too many people being invited to fit in either of our houses. Nancy is checking out the venues at nearby wineries, says we don't need to cater because there are several good food people available, and wonders if we need a DJ. I'll talk to Laura this week and then it will be up to her and Nancy to hash out the details. This one isn't mine to plan, fortunately.

In January we are driving to Tucson for two months of snowbirding. Our first time. One of the weekends in January we drive to Las Vegas for the wedding of a college roommate of mine. I got a timeshare for one of the weekends and we'll be hosting another of our roommates and her husband. We roommates now live in Washington, Massachusetts and Toronto, but we still get together every couple of years. I think I'll be able to wear the dress from Tommy Bahama. That will be a relief!

Good things happening, fun things to plan. Yes!

Putting Things Off

I'm not usually a procrastinator. My to-do list keeps me on task most days, and I can't think of anything that needs to be done that's clearly important.

Then there are the other things. They are important, but not in the short term. So it's easy for me to put them off.

For example, I want to get our book into the independent bookstores for the weeks preceding Veterans Day in November. That means I need to develop a media sheet and a 30-second pitch, then go around to the bookstores (four, so far, in the Seattle area) and talk to the managers. I have been thinking about these activities for over a month, but just yesterday finally put together the first draft of the media sheet. It took me a couple of hours. I know my book, and I'm pretty sure I know my audience, but I'm not a marketer. When I think about this phase of publishing, I want to curl up in the fetal position. That's why I've put it off for so long.

Here's another one. I'm reading a book called Master Class. The author interviewed older people who are leading vital, active lives - his group consisted of people who have participated in Road Scholar travel and learning activities - and "reverse engineered" what they told him, to develop a strategy for the rest of us. How do we stay active, enthusiastic and fulfilled in our retirement years? He came up with a combination of four factors: socialization, moving, creating, and thinking. There's a grid in the book where you can list the things you do, assign them values for each of the four factors, assess where you're not involved, and find ways to become more active in those areas.

For me, surprisingly, my lowest score comes in "movement". Now, I do participate in exercise classes every weekday morning. At least that's what my calendar tells me. But I actually only went to the class three days last week. I was out of town on Monday and Tuesday and I was mediating on Thursday. I know I need to make up for those days - either in the afternoon, if I'm home, or on the weekend. That's when I procrastinate. I've only made up one of those days. And I absolutely know that exercise is vital for my continued health. It's almost like scheduling the exercise makes it so. Not!

My second lowest score is in creativity, which is no surprise at all. Other than writing, I do nothing in that area. I used to sing in choral groups, play handbells, and crochet. That was years ago, though. I gave them all up in the 80s when I divorced, became a single mom and moved to a new city. I tell myself I can get back to them all, but I don't. And I absolutely know, again, that creativity is important. When I think about taking up something new - watercolors or sketching or flower arranging or quilting, for example, come to mind - I either roll my eyes in boredom or prepare to take the fetal position.

The socializing and thinking are fine on my grid. Socializing usually comes along as it needs to, and thinking is my retreat.

So what is this procrastination thing? I've been very active and involved for the last two years. Is it because I've done the easy stuff already?

Today I'd really like to lie on the couch and read magazines - I have about 30 in the basket. But I'm going to walk a couple of miles in the sunshine instead. And develop the design for the book's business cards and bookmarks.

The fetal position looks awfully good, though.

Week of the Granddaughters

They're 12. They're twins. They've been here since camp ended last Saturday. We drive 380 miles tomorrow to take them home - from Seattle to southern Oregon.

We've been to the community pool twice. The library three times. To Fred Meyer for flip-flops. To the pizza place and the pho place and the grocery store. They've read six books apiece and spent two hours a day each on the computer. We've done laundry twice. Picked raspberries and strawberries and blueberries and peas every day. Had ice cream three times and corn four times. They learned to make smoothies and quesadillas. They went to the optometrist where one found out she needs different lenses for the glasses she got last year, and the other found out she doesn't need glasses at all (she's disappointed). They found out they like pita bread for sandwiches. Yesterday we took a field trip to a hedge maze.

We listened a lot. They have an annoying little brother and parents who want them to do chores "all the time". Sounds like a normal family to me!

The grandparents are sleeping very, very well at night. The girls get up at around 9:30, so grandparents have a little time in the morning before they get up, and again after they're in bed at 10. I tell them they can read all night if they want to. I have no idea what time they actually turn off the light and go to sleep, and that's okay with me.

Ah, summer!

Thoughts from a former minion

Five weeks after my husband Art's total knee replacement, we are almost back to our normal lives. He can't drive yet - probably will be given that permission when he sees his surgeon on Friday - but he is getting rides to most of his regular places, especially the early-morning ones. I watch him overdoing it and then paying the consequences, but I leave it alone. It's his recovery, after all. He has reduced his need for pain meds - only a couple of low-dosage pills a day now - and returned to our senior exercise class on Monday.

We've had house guests for the last two weeks. We have a daylight basement with a bedroom, living area and bath, and three sets of people have stayed there since July 5. We go about our lives, they go about theirs, sometimes sharing the kitchen or an occasional meal. The first couple, Ed and Jeri, live in North Carolina and spent a week with us, visiting their grown children in Seattle each day. The second set of visitors, Jamie and Dyan and girls, are family of our next door neighbors, whose smaller house couldn't accommodate everyone for sleeping. The third visitor, Joost, was a couch surfing teacher, originally from the Netherlands and currently working in Oman. Our house works out well for summer visitors to Seattle, and it returns the hospitality we experience when we travel at other times of the year - even though our guests are different people from our hosts. Check out Homelink and couchsurfing for these interesting arrangements. The last houseguest left on Thursday, we had one night of "just us", and now our 12-year-old granddaughters Mary and Malayne, just returned from a week of camp, will be with us for a week.

I am learning to pace myself.

As part of my "what's next" inquiry, I bought a book put out by Road Scholar (formerly Elderhostel). It's called Master Class; the author is Peter Spiers. You can order it on Amazon here. The idea is that, for "living longer, stronger, and happier", the interviews they've done have revealed that people are most likely to achieve that state through a combination of socializing, moving, thinking, and creating. I'm thinking back to my first two post-retirement years - our group and individual travel, our exercise classes, our book. I guess I stumbled into the possibility of living longer, stronger, and happier, and I want to continue on that path.

What about the aches and pains? For some reason, I thought I'd be just fine, thanks, as I got older. And I am - except for the aches and pains. An old SI joint injury that acts up from time to time; twinges from an ankle I sprained badly a few years ago; annoyed feet from compressed nerves in my back from a bad sit last year. This year, part of me thought, well, I'll just wait until all these issues clear up. Then I'll get going again. It has now, finally, dawned on me that this is who I am now, with my particular aches and pains. It's time to move along, accepting them - maybe even embracing them - as part of the 63-year-old me.

It feels better, somehow, to have arrived at a place of near acceptance. And, as I said, I am learning to pace myself!

Beginning Year Three

I left my job two years ago last week.

In the first year I had multiple goals: to learn to teach English as a second language; to participate in a build for Habitat for Humanity; and to take a course in basic mediation. I did all those things. In the second year I clarified my values and made a list of of my priorities for each day: spirituality, health, community, curiosity, and purpose. On most days, I honored those priorities.

So far, so good. I've published a book, experienced my 15 minutes of fame as a representative of sorts for Road Scholar and Habitat for Humanity, and am well past midway to becoming a certified mediator. And we've taken 23 trips in the last 24 months.

That all sounds exhausting!

So what's on the horizon for Year Three?

Mostly I have no idea. I am still sure that my values-based priorities are valid for me. But I am aware that my body isn't getting any younger. Many activities advertised in the Seattle paper don't sound worth the effort to get in the car, brave the traffic and find a parking place. I'm thinking about logging on to the three senior centers nearby and seeing what kinds of outings they're willing to drive us to. Maybe a play downtown, where all I have to do is hand over my ticket and walk into the theater? I'm considering hiring a grandchild to weed the garden. My younger neighbor already mows our side lawn along with his own. Gads!

It could be, though, that I'm thinking and feeling this way because I'm entering Week 5 as the Minion to the Man with the New Knee. I'm doing most of the chores he usually takes care of which, of course, I've taken for granted for years. And I'm thinking that as we get older - and he is, after all, five years older than me - we'll be less and less inclined to take care of all this stuff ourselves. Or maybe less able. Or some combination of the two. A big yard with a garden is a thing of beauty and all that, but it's a lot of work. I'm not alone yet, but I may well be at some point in the future. I need to be thinking about what's next - not how many things can I cram into the time now, but how to gracefully handle the events of living when things aren't so good as they are right now. How I'd manage on my own, if it came to that. I do want to live in the moment, but keeping an eye out for the future is also a good idea.

In the meantime, I keep up with my exercise. I'm eating well. I read. Yesterday I made a reservation for a park model at a resort in Tucson for next January and February. I never ever thought we would be snowbirds, but we seem to be drifting in that direction. Sun is a good thing in the winter, I've decided.

And the sun is finally out in Washington State!