Waiting for Normal

Usual.  Expected.  Everyday.

Seems like it'll never come.  Normal, that is.

Been looking for it.   Everyday.

Can't manage to locate it.  Haven't been able to find it.

It's elusive as hell.  Normal.

Let's review.

Starting from now.  Well, not exactly from now.  Just almost now.

A year, plus two months ago, age 66, I retire.  (Jan retired 10 years ago.) Pretty normal sounding, huh?  Wait...

Retirement means down-sizing and reducing work load, huh?  Not us.  OK.  We did reduce our home's square footage from an almost 3000 square feet to 1250 square feet.  But, wait... The big house was in a suburb, the little house, is in the middle of nowhere.  Really.  Even my dad was nervous when he visited, "What happens if ya'll need a hospital?"  I think he meant him.

And, we exchanged one acre for almost seven.  A small garden for gardens number one, two, and three.  From a lawn, to "How much of this here land do we wanna clear, dear?"  

We went from one rescued hound (Bella) to two (add Sandy).  From a five minute drive on nicely paved roads to the nearest Dollar General to 20 minutes on a dirt-gravel road and five minutes paved to my favorite shopping place.

We also had never had a cougar as a resident in our old neighborhood; we do now.  Well, never had a cougar and or a panther.   We have both.  In spite of the  patent, repeated denials from the Fish and Game Department that Arkansas has none of that wildlife here.

Now, folks,  I'm 67 and Jan is 73.  We are both handicapped.  Compromised physically, medically.  And, evidently, we're also compromised mentally.  'Cause no one, in their right mind, at our age and in our condition, woulda done what we did.   Just ain't normal.

More about this waiting for normal to come... If I live long enough.