Recommended Watch: Ask Adam Savage

In these recommendations I keep coming back to Adam Savage. I think part of the reason is that he talks openly about his passion for making, in all its forms. In this clip from his live stream this week he talks about the moment when he knew making would be a viable career, one that would feed his desire to create.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXdkfaEbeLQ 

I would highly recommend subscribing to his feed. Not everything he posts will resonate with everyone, but his posts are often insightful for us as creatives, and I find myself listening to/watching things I might not have discovered otherwise.

What Might Have Been

This has been a long and very busy week. Still working every day on the odds and ends of the painting project, dealing with medical billings, and then a friend got sick and didn’t have an at-home Covid test so we took one over - and immediately ended up ferrying him to the local walk-in clinic.

It’s all fine. We have settled the last of the medical bills, and I will remind you once again that you can and should negotiate those out-of-pocket billings. The painting is down to a couple time-consuming tasks, and our friend didn’t require hospitalization and is recovering.

So, not a bad week.

I had several topics I have been noodling with for this feed, but something happened this morning that got me to thinking, and I want to share this with you. I hope it helps you see the possibilities around you, and encourages you on your creative journey.

Steve needs a little wind-down time each night before bed. Often that’s after I’ve gone to sleep - a holdover from the days when I had to get up for the day job but he could work late into the night if he wanted to. 

One of his tactics is to watch an episode of some old black-and-white TV series, many of them well before his time, like Mr. Lucky, Secret Agent, or The Saint. The latest is Route 66, with Martin Milner and George Maharis. Often we will talk about the stories the next day, especially as they illustrate some social interaction that has changed dramatically in the intervening years.

This morning he was telling me about a story with Ethel Waters as the guest star. He said he didn’t know who she was, but he had looked her up.

Before he could continue, I said, “Member of the Wedding.” Then I paused for a moment. My brain was itching, and it took just a few seconds for me to blurt out, “I saw her live.”

I couldn’t remember when, but I was sure it was in Southern California when I was in school. But was it in high school? Or college? And how did I manage to see a live play? Neither my family or the guys I dated had the kind of money for live theater.

It took a few minutes of searching, but I finally found a reference to Ethel Waters performing at the Pasadena Playhouse in February, 1964. In Member of the Wedding. And the memories were all there: Waters’ magnificent performance, sitting in the magical atmosphere of a real theater, with a real stage, touring the classrooms where (a friend reminded me) Steve McQueen had carved his name into a desk as a student on the G.I. Bill after WWII .

Founded in 1917, at one time Pasadena Playhouse rivaled Julliard as a theater arts college. I was aware of its reputation, in awe of the illustrious alumni, and definitely star-struck. I longed to enroll there, to live that creative life. For a naive teenager, it looked like heaven.

It also looked entirely impractical, and as the eldest child in a blue-collar family practicality was high on my list of desired traits. I went to a nearby junior college, got a job, got married, and put all that creative nonsense behind me for decades. 

In the meantime, the Playhouse hit some financial bumps, filed for bankruptcy, and was closed for several years. It reopened in 1986, and is a California State Landmark, as well as a thriving performing arts venue.

What does all of this have to do with creativity?

Well, it threw me into the world of “what could have been.” What could I have done if I had thrown practicality out the window and taken a shot at screenwriting? Or, with my interest in textiles, costume design? Or even (gasp) performing? Voice acting? It was all possible. It could have been glorious!

Or it could have been a disaster. 

But (aside from tuition that likely would have been prohibitive-I haven’t been able to find any information on costs in 1964) it shouldn’t have been impossible. And yet.

I let my fears, my insecurities, put limits on my creativity. Yes, I can tell myself that teenaged girls in the early 60s had roadblock after roadblock put in front of them. But in the end I took the “safe” choice, that choice isolated me from my creative drive for several decades, and now I am left to wonder “What if?”

The lesson each of us needs to take from this is that we should give ourselves room to try new things. Give ourselves the chance to fail, because if we can’t fail, then have we really succeeded?

Right now, in our third acts, we have the space and time - and safety net - to take those chances we passed by earlier in our lives. We can seize opportunities, we can do the outside-the-box things that tempted us all those years ago.

We can be impractical - so that we don’t have to ever again ask, “What could have been?”

Learn From MY Mistakes

I have talked here about learning from our mistakes. I've talked about accepting our limitations. I've talked about pushing ourselves to find, and accept, our limits.

This week I am here to once again be a bad example.

You see, we just painted our house. I don't mean that we wrote a large check (or put a large expense on a credit card). I mean we got out there with hedge clippers and weed whackers and cleared the yard. We power washed the house and the shop building. We ran rolls of blue tape around windows and doors, and followed that with what seemed like square miles of plastic film.

In truth, I did most of that. My husband is dealing with a medical issue that keeps him off his feet, and as someone who routinely walks 4-6 miles every day it is making him a little crazy. As a result he was forced into the role of go-fer, and even that was more than he should have been doing.

The kids were here for the final week, and for the actual painting. They did a LOT. But I did a lot getting ready for them, and I think I went way past my limits. Every day.

Physical limits are one of the few things I have been forced to acknowledge as I get older, much to my dismay, and the last month has reminded me. I can't just jump into a strenuous activity the way I did in my 20s and 30s. I actually need to maintain my strength and stamina in order to do some of the things I want to.

One day near the end of the project (which isn't really over-I'm still cleaning up and moving things back into place) we had dinner with friends and I realized as we were leaving that I was chilled - something I have come to recognize as a sign of extreme fatigue. I went home and went to bed.

I am grateful that the price I am paying for this lesson is only sore muscles and fatigue. But exhaustion leads to mistakes, and mistakes can lead to the emergency room. That didn't happen for anyone on this project, but this mom fretted over each of the kids driving home after working so hard.

I renewed my gym membership this week, after avoiding most public places during the pandemic. I have accepted that I need to get back into a routine that includes a minimum of physical activity each day. 

So here is my reminder to you: Stay active, stay healthy, know your limits, and know how far you can push before you pay the price. Don't exhaust yourself to the point you have nothing left for the rest of your life - especially your creative life!

Good Intentions and all That

I have been a little scarce, due to the gigantic task of painting our house. Here’s the report from painting day a couple weeks ago. Work is continuing on the trim, the back porch, and various outdoor furniture, as well as getting all the yard components back in place.

I have to confess that I grossly underestimated how much work was involved in painting one little house, and one simple shop building. But to give you an idea, here's a series of photos of the front of the house.

We aren't done. There is still plastic over all the windows and doors (except the back door-we took the plastic off so we could access the bathroom). We need to pull down the plastic and paint trim tomorrow, or at least as much as we can do in a single day with an exhausted crew! Then there's cleanup and moving the various shelves, storage sheds (like that deck box in the first picture), and tools back into place. 

But all of that is for another day. For today there is a giant order of takeout Chinese food, and gratitude for the help of family in getting our new color started!

This is where we started. The hydrangea and rhododendron (and the morning glory, fuchsia, and blackberry that were growing into them) completely covered the front of the house. Plus there were calla lilies and a rose bush to the right of the door, and lilies along the righthand wall. It all had to be cut back so we could get to the house.

The deck box got moved and we started cutting. It took several days and created a massive yard debris pile in the back yard. We still hadn't cleared a path completely behind the bushes, but we took down a lot!

Another day, another debris pile. But progress was definitely being made. The debris pile from the front was dragged around to join the growing pile in the back, and the lilies and roses were chopped down.

Tape and plastic over the door and windows. My daughter patiently circled the house with a paintbrush and a bucket of primer, covering the bad spots. That entire front wall (left side of picture) was a bad spot!

At the end of the day Saturday we have paint on the house. The shop (not visible) also is painted. We still need to uncover doors and windows, paint trim, etc. But we have paint!!

Where's the Calendar? And Will That Even Help?

Good grief!! I put this post up last week, came back to find that it hadn’t actually posted. So here’s last week’s post, and another should be coming right behind it!

The answer: Probably not, since you have to have some idea what day it is for a calendar to have any effect on you.

Yeah, this is pretty much where I am at the moment. I have to stop and think about what day it is. I think the only thing that is really keeping me on track at the moment is the occasional appointment or social event - if I remember to put them on my phone/computer calendar where the system keeps track of the date and reminds me.

Last year's calendar. I have mostly moved to an electronic one this year, but I need to keep better track of my days!

I think I have finally internalized the fact that I am retired. I have officially lost track of what day of the week it is. I have heard other people say this in the past, and I frankly dismissed it as hyperbole.

Come to find out it's actually A Thing. Surprise!!

This ties back to the post a couple weeks ago that was inspired by Ryan's post about setting goals, and the one before that about time management. I'm thinking we have to be aware of time before we can manage it. Right?

So here I am circling back around to how to take control of my new-found freedom.

I have managed to follow up with at least one goal that I filched from Ryan's post: exercise. Or at least activity.

As I said earlier in passing, we are trying to get the house painted this summer. The rain has finally stopped - mostly - and we've scheduled a work party for mid-July. Our family has volunteered to help, and have offered to bring tools and expertise - we need both! Our kids have scheduled their time off work and I've rented a place for them to stay, and I invested in paint; paint prices have skyrocketed to the point that it isn't just a purchase, it's an investment.

In preparation I am trying to tame the yard and get everything away from the house and shop, which means I am doing yardwork. Every day.

You can see my neglected backyard really needs my attention - but I am making progress. (I'm not going to show you the immense pile of yard clippings at the other end of the yard!)

I found a way to enforce a minimum time on my activity: the string trimmer has two batteries. Together they run about an hour. So I have enforced a minimum activity by running both batteries flat. Then I can quit, though I usually end up raking, or trimming bushes, or doing something else for a while longer. While it isn't traditionally meditative, I am outside, in the sunshine, and I am finding that has a definite restorative effect.

My hope is that when this project is done I will have the habit of at least an hour of physical activity each day, and I can translate that into a walk, or a yoga routine, or a trip to the gym. From there I can try to add to the daily goals, and see them slowly build to some longer-range plans.

And maybe I can figure out what day it is!

Mending Fences

I'm going to step back from my emphasis on creativity this week and talk a bit about something personal that all of us will face at some point: The loss of friends and family.

As you know, last week I attended the memorial service for my uncle Les. All three of my siblings were there, along with my uncle Marshall, Les's surviving brother (his two surviving sisters were unable to attend). It was a sad day, certainly, but a good one. Many family members were there, along with Donna, his companion for the last decades of his life.

But there were family members missing, and those gaps loomed large as we shared the day and visited with family we see all-too-seldom. The conversation turned, as it does, to talk of those missing family members and the reasons they might have chosen to stay away. In most cases the  answers were of the practical variety: nieces who couldn't get time off work in the middle of the week, one sister lived 2.000 miles away, the other sister had taken a fall walking back to her car after doing her shopping (at 93) and couldn't travel, nephews for whom we didn't have correct contact info.

Then there were the other reasons. Estrangements that had been allowed to settle in and now would never be broken. Arguments left unresolved. Distances, both physical and emotional, that will never be crossed. To his credit, there were very few of those.

Those few were the tough ones. Les was not perfect. None of us is. But he was whip-smart, one helluva storyteller, attractive, and completely charming. As someone said that afternoon, "All the women in his life loved him." We loved him for his good qualities, and in spite of his bad ones.

I hadn't really intended to talk about this - it has very little to do with the main thrust of this channel - but this weekend I learned that the beloved wife of a dear friend has passed. I read his initial report with tears in my eyes; 55 years of marriage, two kids, a good life. Later, he wrote at greater length and the heartbreak was evident in every word. They were fortunate to have each other, to have a good and loving relationship, and to be able to spend the last months together.

The final thing pushing me to share this was a call from a friend, someone I had worked with for several years. They needed help with getting to the grocery store, and to a doctor's appointment. They were, in fact, desperate. Unable to drive (related to the doctor's appointments) and isolated from their few family members, they were forced to rely on casual friends for the most basic needs. Why estranged? I have no idea, and it's none of my business. But I can see the path they are on, and it's not going anywhere good. I will help where I can, but this will continue and I don't see it getting any better.

I am extremely fortunate. I have a family I love, and that love is returned a hundred-fold. My siblings, my children, my in-laws, and my parents (when they were still alive) have all been there for me - for us - when we needed them. We have tried to return that love and assistance as much as we can. As my sister says when I thank her, "It's what families do." But I can look around me and see time and again that is is NOT what families do. Or at least not all families.

I am forever grateful for that good fortune, but more importantly I must remain ever-vigilant to maintain those relationships. As we age and we begin to lose those who came before us, we must treasure the relationships that remain.

I am well aware that there are family members who do not deserve our love and support. There are parents, siblings, aunts and uncles and cousins, who are toxic and must be excised. as one would any cancer.

But there are also those we have simply lost touch with, who we have been "too busy" to keep in close contact with, those with whom we have nothing in common. When that is the case, it just might be a good idea to see if we can mend those fences, re-connect with the people who share our ancestors and heritage.

If that isn't possible, and I will grant you that it may not be, then we need to build a family of the heart, a circle of people we can turn to when we need them, and who can turn to us with the assurance that we will love and support each other. We all need to know that there will be someone there with us, all the way to the end.

It might be a bit difficult, but it beats the hell out of regret.

Quick Update

I wanted to post some pictures of our progress, but I just don't have the energy to get the photos transferred over tonight. After several intense days I think we may be ready to pressure wash tomorrow. There are now TWO giant piles of yard debris - amazing how much has to be cut when you need to uncover every square foot of two buildings! I think I'm going to have to hire someone to come in and haul it all out of here. With luck that will be easier than trying to hire a painter. 

Those of you who have been with me for a while will remember that our small town lost over 300 homes in the September, 2020 wildfires. Rebuilding that much of our community continues to suck up all the construction resources in town, and we can't draw on other parts of the state because they're still rebuilding from their own disastrous fires.

I have to remind myself that painting, even as much work as it is, is doable and at least I still have a house to paint. There are people in the burned area who are still waiting for homes after nearly two years. 

In the meantime, let me share a link to a glorious cartoon about creativity. This resonated with me, and I hope it will with you, too. https://www.thingswithout.com/comic/horrible-wonderful-comic-728/ 

Good night for now. Maybe we can get some pics up tomorrow!

Checking In

Just a quick dispatch from the world of home maintenance. This is painting week, and we are deeply mired in all the last-minute repair and maintenance getting ready. There will be a regular post in the next few days, but I wanted to reassure you all that I hadn’t run off to join the circus. Though that sounds mighty tempting about now!!

Where Did the Day Go?

As I settle into my third attempt at retirement I find myself struggling with time management. Now that I don’t have to manage my time, now that the day is all mine to do with as I please, I find myself getting nothing done.

I start the day with big plans and high hopes, and suddenly it’s late afternoon, I’m wandering around the house hungry and disgruntled, and I have accomplished very little beyond making the bed and brewing a pot of coffee.

This looks about right!

Often I haven’t even eaten and only realize it when my stomach starts giving me angry reminders. Like right now, when I just went and got a peanut butter sandwich at five o’clock because a cup of yogurt with a sprinkle of granola won’t hold a person all day.

So what is the problem here? What is keeping me from doing All The Things? Especially the Things I Want To Do?

Attitude.

Right now my attitude sucks and I need to find a way to make it better. This was made painfully clear to me when I read this post one of our subscribers, Ryan M. Williams, posted today about Resetting Expectations.

I have finally started to think that this retirement is actually happening. I won’t be going back to work. I won’t have anyone demanding my time on a regular basis. I am free to do whatever I want to (or need to) do.

And that freedom has nearly overwhelmed me.

I am by nature a night owl. My mother told me once that when I was very little, maybe a year old and an only child (siblings would come along eventually to upset that cushy spot), she would put me to bed at 7:30 or so, as parents were expected to do. She would check on me through the evening and every time she came in I would be awake - not yelling, or crying, or demanding to get out of the crib - just … awake.

When I gained control of my schedule at work I chose to start at 9:30 so I didn’t have to get up early, and my 6-hour sleep schedule was between 2 and 8 am. Sometimes I struggled to get the lights out by 2, but that was the goal, and I haven’t used an alarm in more than a decade.

Now? I have no schedule. I can - and all too often do - stay up until 3 or later, sleeping away most of the morning. I still wake up about 8, but I look at the clock, shrug, and go back to sleep. It sometimes feels like I am trying to make up all the sleep I shorted myself.

I don't have to answer to an alarm clock any more, but losing that structure is a double-edged sword and I need to reset my days.

But that lack of a sleep schedule is like ripples in a pond, pushing everything later in the day. I make coffee at 11 or noon, have some toast or yogurt, check email while I eat, do a few household chores, and if there’s a medical appointment, or something that needs doing during business hours, the day is suddenly gone and it’s time to cook dinner.

I lose entire days this way, telling myself that I have tomorrow, or the rest of the week, to do whatever didn’t get done today.

"Tomorrow" isn't the answer, now is it?

Reading Ryan’s post today made one thing abundantly clear: I am not setting any daily goals. Well, except for coffee, and that’s more a matter of survival - for the people around me.

The weekly posts that I promised you have slipped a bit lately and this is part of the reason why. I have let the goal slip to “this week” instead of “Sunday,” and while it makes me unhappy it hadn’t reached the point where I had done anything about it.

I recognize that things need to change a bit, that I need to give myself some daily goals. Ryan’s list looks like a good place to start: write, meditate, exercise. The exercise and meditation can combine in the yoga-like routine my physical therapist gave me for my back, which will make the writing easier, too.

Using the standing position of my adjustable desk would be a good goal to add. I got in the habit of standing at work and I should give it a try here at home. That could combine the writing and exercise, too!

I don’t know how this will go, but it is certainly a step I need to take. Losing the structure that a day job gave me has cast me adrift in ways I did not expect. Now I need to figure out how to reshape my life to the new paradigm.

As I think about this and share my thoughts with you I find myself getting excited about the possibilities, about the opportunity I have in front of me to build the kind of retirement life I want to have.

Thanks, Ryan, for the reminder of what I can do with the freedom of retirement!

Never Stop Learning

Over the last couple months I have been acquiring some new skills. I'm not sure that was on my Retirement Bingo™ card; once I retired I was supposed to do exactly what I wanted. 

Or so I thought.

However, with any new endeavor there will be some learning curve, and sometimes that learning curve will involve skills and processes that we haven't needed before.

For me, over the last couple years that has involved learning some new computer skills.

Now I am not one of those stereotypical little old ladies that can barely turn on her own computer, and who can't figure out how to download pictures of her grandchildren.

My granddaughter. She's 17 now, and nearly as tall as her grandpa. Just to show I can download her pictures!

I have been involved with home computers in one form or another since the late 1970s. I met my husband of nearly 40 years on a local bulletin board system in Seattle. I learned programming in a couple early languages, worked as a technical writer, and trained as an extract programmer before we left Seattle. In 1989.

Yep. I was technically competent, but that was decades ago. Much of that knowledge and ability isn't necessary for the things I want to do now - but I needed other skills, and I didn't have some of them.

Fortunately I have some great friends who are willing to walk me through learning a new skill, and easily-understood software and applications are available, thanks to the skill and generosity of others. You may well have to pay for some apps, or for training, but learning something new is priceless.

I had to learn how to transfer a domain, set up a webpage, and start a Patreon feed in order to launch this channel and my blog. It took some time, and I have the ongoing expense of maintaining the website and the Patreon channel, as well as the annual registrations, but it has been well worth the investment. Learning to do those things made it possible for me to take the next step.

When I first started writing I followed the traditional publishing route, and the only thing I had to do was produce a manuscript in a standard format, print it out, and mail it off. Over the years we (my editors, publishers, and I) learned to work through email. We stopped shipping bulky piles of paper across the country, instead sending electronic files zipping back and forth at the push of a button. It meant we didn't have to wait for the mail, but we did have to learn how to use email and editing software to accomplish the same outcome.

Now, with the publication of the newest book in my series, I have moved to a completely independent publishing model. I am responsible for all the aspects of production and promotion, from the initial composition to the final distribution. 

What has made that possible? Technological advances and my ability and willingness to learn new things.

Often the biggest stumbling block to implementing a technological advance isn't that the process is complicated, or even particularly expensive. It is our resistance to change - the insistence that what we are doing, despite the time and effort involved in producing a less-than-optimum result, is perfectly okay.

It is our reluctance to learn something new.

I have done this, more than once. Insisted that whatever I was doing was adequate, even though there was a demonstrably better solution available. What really held me back? Fear. The fear that I wouldn't be able to learn the new thing I needed. The fear of failing, of looking dumb, of making a mistake. Instead I kept doing things the old, tried-and-true way; taking longer and getting a worse result, but protecting myself from the fear.

If someone hadn't been willing to learn something new, this is what I'd be driving. Glad that isn't the case! It's a great car, but it won't get 40 mpg with the air conditioner (what air conditioner?) running, and it won't do 75 on the freeway!

When the time came to publish the new book (MURDER BUYS A LEMON, now available at your favorite online retailer) I had to take some chances and learn some new things. I learned to run a Kickstarter campaign, and I learned to use an excellent layout software package called Vellum. I also learned how to use a platform called Bookfunnel to fulfill the Kickstarter rewards for ebooks. 

Along the way I have found that with each step, each new skill, I am less worried, less fearful, of trying something new. I have expanded my horizons, and with each expansion comes an ever-widening vista, beckoning me forward. And I find myself eager for the new challenges.

Learn to embrace life-long learning .  Gain a new skill, a new outlook, a new way of doing things. Move ahead with the challenge and the exhilaration of finding new ways to approach the things you love. Exercise your brain - it helps keep you young!

All you have to do is let go of your fear.

You will be glad you did.