I have had many preconceptions and misconceptions about what my retirement would be like. I spent my whole working life actively imagining retirement and even started saving for it in my thirties.
Now that I am retired going into my fourth year, some early intentions are coming true, some are pending, and quite a few bubbles have burst.
I thought that in retirement I would sleep in until noon and stay up late at night. Currently, I’m asleep in a chair after sunset and up at 5 a.m. every morning making coffee.
Here’s another burst bubble. I used to tell myself that when I retire, I will use all that free time being productive, repairing all things broken or in need of change, quashing the Honey Do List, and augmenting my surroundings.
Some projects and repairs are getting done. I’m no slouch. Still, I tend to walk by things broken and loose on days with nothing to do, and instead go sit in the sun, or the shade, and while away my afternoon. We still haven’t bought an antenna or escaped from cable. We’re avoiding it because it’s complicated and disruptive. It will happen.
Everyday I try to get something done, but I limit myself to retired-guy hours. Three on, two off, two on, and quit. If it’s a hobby, I’ll work all day without eating.
The group plan: In retirement, we will travel. Susan and I will become frequent tourists spending weeks at exotic destinations instead of days, picking out countries with darts and a map, dropping my hat on a Tuesday and flying off to Fiji to buy a new hat.
We do get out there, just not as frequently or as far as we had imagined, yet.
This year we were compelled to stay close to home. Our son-in-law Chad was fighting colon cancer and going through chemotherapy. Our son Adam and his wife Becky were having a new baby. Well, Chad is done with his treatment and declared clean. Little Griffin was born without complications and is smiling, filling diapers and crying like a little boy should. We’re free to go. Looks like our fall Blues Cruise is on, and perhaps next year you’ll read more travelogue stories.
We’re home alone. Our retired friends are off traveling through Europe, sending back photographs and anecdotes.
I thought it would be difficult to stay at home. It turns out that I like it. I imagined being a homebody with a repetitive daily routine would result in hair pulling and stir-crazy madness. It’s not so bad from the inside. Ironically, staying at home this year is allowing me to fulfill some of the intentions I had for my retirement.
When I’m not lounging in the sun or shade, I keep busy picking up hobbies, pursuing interests, and honing skills. I swore to stay busy and embrace my own demise.
Last summer I honed the skill of lounging because sitting still doing nothing has always been hard for me. To be better prepared for the ultimate loneliness, emptiness, and nothingness of feeble old-age, I took a dry run. I wrote about it. Alone for four days along the East Carson River, except for an hour of morning fishing, I sat in my camp chair all day, intentionally, not going for walks, not reading, not writing, just sitting, eating trout, with nothing else to do. Each day it got easier. Now I’m a pro.
I give myself projects and then chase them down. I have several ongoing. Currently, I’m eating the same breakfast in as many local restaurants as possible and taking notes on what’s best. I don’t do it daily or diligently, but whenever I’m out in the mornings, I stop for pancakes, eggs, homefries and meat. I’ve been to five so far. More to go.
Macaroni and cheese is my other focus. My plan is to try a variety of recipes and experiment with my own to decide which taste best. What I’ve learned is that I can’t do this experiment quickly. I can’t eat that much mac and cheese. Susan isn’t a big fan. She’d rather walk 10,000 more steps. That slows me down. It’s got to be tough for her, though. That’s how I cook. I make the same dish two or four times trying to perfect it. “Meatballs again?”
Many of my simple dreams have come true. I swore to eat more pie. I am. I swore to rid my life of clutter. It’s all gone to the dump.  I’ve honed my fishing, woodworking, pinball and poker skills. I can work a self-centering jig and a plunge router. I can pass a ball from one flipper to the other, and beat an over-better with patience. Next season I intend to purchase a fly-fishing pole.
I’m still an amateur retired guy, a newbie, but I’ll toss out some advice. Work it until it works, stay busy, and learn to enjoy doing nothing.

Steve Gibbs is a retired Benicia High School teacher who has written a column for The Herald since 1985.

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