I don’t always act my age, but this recent cold snap sure has me feeling my age.
I have been reluctantly edging closer and closer to middle age, much to my chagrin. Proof of that is beginning to be irrefutable.
It is too loud.
I would really like for you to go back inside and put on some decent clothes, young lady.
I have no desire to see your underwear. Please pull up your pants.
When leaving the house for any reason, I have an overwhelming urge to get home before dark.
After sitting down to dinner with friends at 4:30 p.m. on New Year’s Eve, I had to take a nap just to make it to midnight.
But this Polar Vortex has solidified for me that I am indeed getting older. First of all, the arthritis in my hip flared up something awful. Secondly, Troy and I found ourselves in a semi-serious conversation about snowbirding upon our retirement.
Granted, we are a few years away from retirement (well, actually, more than a few, but God willing, we will be able to retire one day…), but this cold weather has us dreaming of warmer climes where we don’t have to haul firewood or break ice for the cows.
Ideally, Troy would like to retire to a home where no heat or air-conditioning is required. He, of course, tolerates cooler temperatures better than I do. He has settled on a home in the high desert of New Mexico or Arizona where the days are warm and the nights are cool, and the residents are quirky live-and-let-live types who would help you out if you needed it, but otherwise leave you alone.
My idea of the perfect retirement home would be a cabin on a mountain lake. I love the idea of living on or near water, but the ocean is too unpredictable and rivers flood too easily. A lake would provide swimming, sunning, boating and fishing opportunities without the ever-present danger of Mother Nature’s wrath.
And I love being near woods for hiking, birding and general communing with nature. I like feeding and watching the birds, squirrels and chipmunks at my house now, and one of my favorite things to do is enjoy my morning coffee on either the front or back porch listening to just the birds chirping while a warm breeze washes over me.
Here at the Local we often forward our readers’ newspapers to them while they snowbird out of Kentucky for the duration of the coldest winter months. Most of the forwarding addresses are in Florida, also a suitable retirement locale.
A couple of days after our talk, Troy pointed out the possibility of finding a lake in the high desert country, like Lake Mead. That has genuine merit and will make my shortlist.
For now, though, we’re just going to have to grin and bear it through these single-digit and sub-zero temperatures while we dream of the day when we, too, can put in a forwarding address from November through February.
Stay warm, Henry County.