Nine to Five No More
On May 28, 2019 by Speranza
It’s been almost two months to the day since I cleared out my desk and began my (super early) retirement. I have purposefully not shared this information here because it is has been such a churning and peculiar adjustment, full of highs and lows, more than a few bracing 3 am walks around the hardwood floors but mostly, because I fear being judged as old and irrelevant, there I said it.
A great deal of my day is now spent in happy disbelief – I can do anything I want at any time. Because The General is as easygoing as can be (he never cares what time dinner is presented and remains consistently thrilled/surprised that someone else has made it for him) we can eat whenever/whatever we like. I have been getting up early to do gardening and yesterday while I was enjoying a slice of cake and a coffee outside, I lazily watched bees drifting in and out of the blue mists of forget-me-nots, listening to their steady hum and noticing the bright, shiny eyes of an especially woolly bumble who clumsily buffeted in too close to me. Bliss, I say. In the afternoon, I rescued a great curmudgeon of a toad who had been crouching beneath a tent of damp leaf mold and tenderly airlifted him to higher ground before I returned to chopping back the ivy. I have had such a love/hate relationship with my garden since I came to it late, knowing absolutely nothing. As recently as April I found myself in floods of body-shaking, frustrated tears again that I had made bad choices, wasted money, would never be able to achieve my goal. My husband was always in charge of the garden (discussed here and other places) and was at least as good at shaming me for my lack of knowledge as he was with the perennials.
That amused scorn has been difficult to banish.
When I drastically had the front yard mulched (originally because I could not keep up with the grass cutting on my own) I knew what I really wanted – a Woolf-style “wild” garden that did not just have a Japanese maple and three hydrangeas in a circle round the tree. I am so happy to report that this year for the first time with my daily efforts, it’s finally starting to come together. And this happened because I decided to turn off the voices in my head and trust my intuition, something as a crone, I now do more and more.
Certain corners of the garden are now perfect – for me, I mean. The General always says he is “not a gardener” but he pours post-gardening wine for me and is very encouraging. I love this about him. Yesterday he came out to dote on the tiny irises, a ruffled halo of Madeira-wine purple that literally appeared overnight- and commented that they smelled like a really good cake. These irises (and many other divisions) were given to me by a good friend and most excellent gardener, Jinny, who has helped me more than she knows. My eyes well up to think of that kindness now transplanted deep into the soil.
Not completely relevant but I saw this today and wanted to share. As it happens, there really are many encouraging things to read online as well …
So glad to hear that you’ve joined us on “the other side of the wall”. It’s a most glorious place to be.
While I’m not a gardener, my days are filled with playing music, riding my bike, watching old movies, dog park visits with Cubby, and napping most afternoons for 30 or 40 minutes.
Congratulations!
It certainly does sound fun doesn’t it!?
As Sinatra once sang, “The best is yet to come”.
Thanks Bfyguy! Fun fact: my stats indicate that you wrote this comment from Germany lol!!