When I began this little ‘project’, this life story, this telling of tales, I thought to myself – this cannot last long, how many stories could I possibly tell, 10, 25, 50? And here I am now at story 199! I’m finally beginning to get to a point to where I might be able to soon see the end of the tunnel. When I run out of memories, I’ll stop. For now though, there’s still more to share so stop your applause. You’re being rude.
Recently I shared a story of nighttime hi-jinx where a few of us Prytania boys broke a commandment. Now that’s it’s been more than 40 years ago, memories like that one can be fun to look back on and reminisce with the cohorts equally responsible. It’s no fun being stolen from though and I have been on the receiving end of that commandment a few times. This week I thought I’d share one of those stories.
The thing about being committed to trying to write a personal account story each and every week is that is forces one, (the one here being “me”), to be pretty honest with the readers and myself. For example, I have a draft written of what I think is a somewhat self-deprecating story, one I must have written more than a year ago. I know that one day it will get published but it’s difficult for me to finish because in general, I try to always be a ‘glass is almost full’ kinda’ guy. Sometimes I feel like I’m judging myself in these stories, being too critical perhaps. We are most tough on ourselves.
I promise, this is not another story about a childhood sweetheart named Diane (read me). I am a retiree. It seems surreal to even speak. Being retired from anything just always seemed so far away when I was younger, as I’m sure it does for many of you reading this now. I retired from P&G last July and wrote this story (read me) about my journey there.
I am retired but it sure doesn’t feel like it. I am staying very active by trading stocks part time, becoming Mr. Fixit, Mr. Project and Mr. Cook. The trading is keeping my brain stimulated as I’m doing a lot of reading and studying. I believe in always being in a learning mode. One of the things I am “re” learning is cooking. My wife continues to work part time outside the house so it my responsibility to ensure we’re well fed.
My cooking days go way back to childhood. At times when my mom worked at night, she’d often make something up and then give me instructions on what temperature in the oven to cook at and for how long. Later on, when there were nine of us kids, if you didn’t know how to heat up some soup or whip together some concoction, you might be relegated to cereal. Continue reading
As I sit here typing this story you are reading, I am weak, I am shaky, I am nauseous. Surviving getting run over by a school bus, (read me), serious blood clotting (not yet written), a head-on auto accident with a drunk driver and quite a number of other possible fatalities could possibly make some feel that they are indestructible or that their time to go is preordained. I’m old enough now to cherish my life and good health; I know I’m not indestructible and my time on this fragile planet will one day be at hand. (Oh and as an interesting side note, today March 8th, is the anniversary of my getting run over by that bus – 50 years ago today!) Continue reading
To quote “Sir”
“Marriage is no way of life for the weak, the selfish, or the insecure.”
Once upon a time, there was a boy and a girl who loved each other very much. After several years of dating, they were married. Over time, as will happen with married people, they grew much closer to one another. Now, growing close is a good thing. When done right it can even approach a feeling of sanctity; all is right with the world. On the flip side, growing closer to one another exposes weak spots, the fontanelles of the heart. Continue reading