Relative Something

It’s been over two years since I retired from commuting to a day-job and yesterday was one of the few days in that span of time when I fully felt the liberation of not being tied to a work schedule. Sure, I’ve thrilled repeatedly over no longer feeling dread on Sunday nights, but those have seemed like small victories.

Yesterday morning, I didn’t change my routine with the shift of clocks to Daylight Saving Time. It felt liberating. Around lunchtime, Cyndie, Asher, and I hopped in the car to head for the lake place. Leaving on a Sunday night to go up north felt rather decadent.

We can go to the lake any day we’d like. We are retired. And I am feeling it.

With only ourselves to accommodate, I enjoyed the luxury of ordering a cheeseburger and fries “to-go” from a nice lakeside diner along the route to fulfill a craving that usually goes unmet. It’s often not the right time when we pass by or there are time constraints, or some other random obstruction that prevents stopping there. Finally getting what I always think about when we pass that restaurant made it taste even better.

There was no traffic heading our direction, though we passed a fair number of cars returning to the Cities. Many of them were carrying muddy fat-tired bikes after a weekend of riding CAMBA trails.

There does happen to be a method to our madness for being here on a Monday. Some work on the house is scheduled to start this morning by a contractor that Cyndie arranged over the phone. This will be a chance to meet him in person and be on hand in case any issues arise in the replacement of a bottom chord truss under the eave on the lakeside of the log home.

Being the only ones up during the week this time of year feels a little disorienting. We can make a mess of the house and not be in anyone’s way.

Actually, the place looks a little like the empty mansions in the movies with covers over the furniture. Cyndie didn’t want Asher to shed on the couches.

There aren’t enough people around to occupy the furniture so he thinks it becomes his responsibility.

I doubt he’ll have any time to rest with strangers working just outside the windows all day long. I expect they will need to be barked at with gusto.

It’s either them or the squirrels.

I think maybe Asher is feeling the same as us. Seems to me this feels a lot like being retired.

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