Oh dear, there goes the snowplow. I live in a "persistent squall area," not my term but the weather person's. Squalls, either snow or rain, come from somewhere across Lake Ontario ( you really should keep that weather at home, dear Canadians) and manifest in my yard. I used to curse a lot when I still had to go to work. I am retired now and curse mainly during the news.
I also have a sweet neighbor across the road who comes and shows off his new snowblower by cleaning my driveway and brushing off the steps to my porch. He moved here from Oregon and makes his own hooch. Today, I will finally get to making those rum balls I had promised myself to give to him and his wife as a return gift for his kindness.
I guess I am writing this down because I have realized that my decision to stay put upon retirement was the right one. for me. Friends keep sending me pictures of temperature gauges in Florida or Arizona, maybe to entice me to sell out and move to an easier life. See, I think that is a learned response to some American advertising ideas the last generation bought into. Work hard, keep your mouth shut, then retire to warmer climates.
I do not want an easier life, I want a challenge, to keep the juices flowing. And yes, I recognize that that sounds crazy, but there you go. No religion freed up a lot of psychic real estate in my mind. Crazy moved in.