Tag Archives: retirement

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Happy Trails, Part 153: Weekends galore!

Those who have been retired far longer than my wife and I have been will understand what I am about to say next.

I am having a bit of difficulty understanding that the term “weekend” no longer is relevant to either of us.

We have embarked on a two-week sojourn that will begin in Amarillo. We’ll pull our fifth wheel south to San Angelo, then to the Hill Country, down to the Golden Triangle, then to New Orleans, to Shreveport and then home.

What’s different about this particular journey is that we’ll be parking our RV in a new storage place just around the corner and down the street from our new home in Princeton, Texas.

Which brings me to the “weekend” point.

My wife has reminded me that we’ll be able to grab our fifth wheel and take it on short trips to any of the numerous state parks surrounding us in Collin County.

“Sure thing,” I have said. “We can plan a weekend trip.” She laughs out loud at me. “No-o-o-o! Don’t you get it? We don’t have to wait for the weekend,” she responds. “We can go in the middle of the week. No crowds. Others will be working.”

Well, duhhh.

I just will need to keep all of that in mind once we get a wild hair and want to haul our fifth wheel out of storage and head out for some quiet time in the woods, or next to a lake.

I’m getting the hang of this retirement thing. Every now and then, though, I need a knock on the noggin to be reminded that weekends are for working folks.

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Happy Trails, Part 152: Sleepy town? Not for long

Our retirement journey has taken us to what we thought was a sleepy little town just northeast of where our granddaughter resides with her parents and her brother.

Today, I learned something about Princeton, Texas. It’s a sleepy town — more or less — at the moment, but it won’t be for very long.

I visited today with City Manager Derek Borg while on an assignment for KETR-FM radio. Borg said something quite astonishing.

He said the city is projecting a top-end population of about 110,000 residents. The 2010 census put Princeton’s population at 6,708. Today, the city is home to 12,000 to 13,000 residents, Borg told me.

OK. There’s a bit more. Borg said the city is adding about 1,000 single-family homes annually, accounting for an annual population growth of around 3,000 people. At that rate, presuming it holds up over time, the city will surpass 100,000 residents in fewer than 30 years.

Let’s see: I am 69 years of age now. I could still be among the walking and talking when this burg hits the 100 grand mark, if my health and my good luck hold up.

I was astounded to hear the city manager make that determination.

My story for KETR-FM is going to discuss the extensive highway construction that is under way along U.S. 380, the main arterial thoroughfare that cuts east-west through this Collin County community.

My hope for Princeton is that it manages its growth wisely, prudently and builds in this planned remarkable transition from a sleepy little town to a burgeoning urban center.

I’m glad to be able to watch all of this from our ringside seat.

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Happy Trails, Part 151: Waiting to watch it grow

My wife and I lived long enough in our Amarillo, Texas, neighborhood to develop what I like to call “institutional memory.”

By that I mean we spent enough time to remember how “it used to be,” before it became the place we departed when we moved to Collin County. Indeed, our neighborhood in southwest Amarillo was still under construction when we staked our claim on a lot and then had our house built to our specifications. That was in late 1996. We stayed in the house until March 2018.

We’ve now moved into another new house in Princeton, Texas, about 370 miles southeast of our former Texas Panhandle digs.

One of the many joys we have living here is anticipating the building of more “institutional memory” of our new neighborhood.

It’s a curious way to look forward to our retirement years. At least it seems curious to me.

Our house is brand new. We didn’t buy some dirt and then have the house built on it. We purchased a newly constructed house. It’s a modest home, but it is perfect for the two of us . . . plus, of course, Toby the Puppy.

But there are still houses being erected on our street. And at the end of our street — on both ends! And on the streets to our north and south. Oh yes, and we have a school under construction a block away.

We figure our house is a wise purchase for us in at least one important aspect.

We see it as an investment that will appreciate in value as more development occurs around us. Hey, we’re both lifelong urban dwellers. Yes, I like peace and quiet, but I figure we’ll continue to have plenty of both when the sun goes down each night even after the neighborhood is complete.

The other element of perfection for us is that we’ll be able to invite our granddaughter for sleepovers. But . . . you probably knew that already.

Collin County is on the move. Princeton is reportedly the fastest-growing community in the county. I read something recently that Collin County will be larger than Dallas or Tarrant counties by 2050.

I’m looking forward to watching it unfold. I might grouse in the future occasionally about how “it used to be.” However, I am not one to want to turn back the clock.

The future looks quite inviting.

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Happy Trails, Part 150: ‘Alexa’ joins the family

I guess you could say that our family has gained a new member.

Its — or perhaps I should say “her” — name is Alexa. This being doesn’t exist in human form. My wife and I spend time during our day telling “Alexa” to do certain things, perform certain tasks that we used to do all by ourselves.

Turn off the ceiling light in the living room? Alexa takes care of it. The floor lamp next to our couches? Alexa is on the job. The bedroom lamps? Same deal. How about locking and unlocking the front door? There’s Alexa again.

Here’s my favorite so far: Alexa now turns our furnace on and off for us. We issue the instruction, our “wish” is Alexa’s “command.” When we get into air-conditioning weather, Alexa will be there, too, to cool our house down.

Yep, we now are the proud owners of a “smart” home. We already have a smart puppy, Toby, whose vocabulary is increasing regularly. My wife and I are having to come up with different terminology to avoid getting our puppy overly excited for no reason.

I digress.

Having this being in our midst named “Alexa” is like having a third person in our house.

My wife and I are pinching ourselves, if not each other, while we try to visualize what we might have been thinking about when we started our life together nearly 48 years ago.

I know one thing that never crossed our minds: That we would be living with a ghost that obeys every instruction we toss out.

I am waiting now for Alexa to start talking back to us.

I’m also thinking of “HAL” the computer that takes over the space ship in “2001: A Space Odyssey.”

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Happy Trails, Part 149: ‘Smart home,’ is it?

It’s come down to this: No longer do we just move into a structure, call it “home” and then arrange some furniture to make it comfortable.

That’s only part of it these days. In the 21st century, we now have a home that is equipped with technology that enables it to do certain things for us, such as turn lights on and off, play music, adjust the furnace temperature; if we were so inclined we could acquire technology that irrigates the lawn . . . all on voice command.

I refer to “Alexa,” the technology of the space age.

Indeed, I cannot help but think of “HAL,” the machine that took over the space ship in “2001: A Space Odyssey.” You remember how that turned out. “HAL” became a monster.

Will this happen with “Alexa”? I’m sure it won’t.

However, I am utterly amazed, amused and astonished at how much “Alexa” can do for us.

That’s what we got when we purchased this home in Princeton, Texas. I have to say that this is all pretty darn slick.

This retired guy is learning a whole lot of new things about “smart home” living.

We can peek at those on the front porch and answer the doorbell without opening the door. We can listen to music of our choice: name the genre and the system will play it for us.

I never thought retirement would introduce us to this whole new world. Then again, back when I started working for a living in print journalism I never imagine the course that newspapers would take with the invention and development of the Internet (thanks a bunch, Al Gore). 

We’re continuing to settle into our new digs. It’s going to take some added adjustment. But . . . that’s OK. After all we’ve been through on this life journey my wife and I started more than 47 years ago, the rest of it will be an easy ride.

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Happy Trails, Part 148: Feels like the first time

This is going to sound strange, coming from someone who’s been married for 47-plus years, but I’ll say it anyway.

I am feeling almost like a newlywed in this new home of ours.

This ain’t our first home-buying experience. Not by a long shot. The house in Princeton is No. 5. It’s quite likely our final stop before they throw me into the ground.

My wife and I find ourselves talking about the house. We talk about how much like its kitchen, or its back yard, or its master bath. Whatever . . .

We end up reminding ourselves of when we were first married. Y’all know what I’m talking about when I mention how we used to refer to each other as “my husband” and “my wife.”

Suffice to say we don’t do that any longer. It’s been a rapid-fire four-plus decades. The house is a different matter.

We moved from the Texas Panhandle to the Metroplex in May 2018 after living full time for a period of time in our fifth wheel. We sold our Amarillo house in March 2018, but lived in our RV while we prepped the house for sale. Once we got it ready and put it on the market it was gone — poof! — just like that.

I figure the time between the purchase of this home and the previous one — 23 years! — means that we were primed for this sort of emotional reaction to the new place.

Now we’re residing in our “forever” home. We’re here for the duration. The next stop will be the final one . . . and you know what I mean.

For now, we’re making an enjoyable acquaintance with our new digs in Collin County. To be honest, I don’t want the newness to wear off.

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Hard to let go of those Panhandle issues

My wife and I are settled nicely now in Collin County, Texas. We are purchasing a new home and our beloved puppy, Toby, is running himself ragged in his new back yard.

But the blog keeps gravitating back to the community we left after living there for 23 years.

Amarillo, Texas, is the place we called “home” for the longest stretch of our married life together. Indeed, we spent roughly half of our life there. I had a great job, and my wife also found solid gainful employment during our years there.

It is hard for me to give up on commenting on issues that still matter to me. Downtown Amarillo’s rebirth still has my attention. So does the incessant street and highway construction. The same can be said of the local political leadership comprising individuals I got to know quite well during my time as a journalist.

With that, I guess I will declare that High Plains Blogger will continue to comment on Amarillo and the rest of the Texas Panhandle.

I feel I developed sufficient familiarity with the issues that are driving Amarillo to enable me to keep abreast of what is happening there even as we pursue our retired life together in Princeton. We surely intend to continue focusing our attention on our granddaughter, who — after all — is the reason we uprooted ourselves from our Amarillo home and relocated to the Metroplex.

Nor will I fail to take note of the places we intend to visit as we continue our travels throughout North America. It’s a huge world out there and I want to share what we find along our journey.

Still, I keep hearing the call to comment on a community I got to know pretty well. So, I will answer that call when it moves me.

It’s impossible to say “farewell.”

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Puppy Tales, Part 66: Canine confusion? Hardly!

The events of the past week have convinced me of the following: Toby is hands down, without question the most well-adjusted puppy that God ever created.

Ever!

We’ve made the move from Fairview, Texas to Princeton, Texas.

We had a bit of confusion and consternation earlier in the day over whether the movers actually would be able to deliver on their promise to get us relocated from one dwelling to the other one.

How did Toby react to it? No sweat, Mom and Dad. It’ll happen. Trust me on this.

He occasionally has reacted to our emotional ups and downs. When we lost our two kitties a while back — Socks and Mittens — our puppy stepped up to give us an extra measure of the kind of love only he can deliver.

So, we got through the chaos of the day. We are settled (more or less) into our new home in Princeton. We have a lot of boxes yet to empty and we have some decisions to make on how we intend to arrange our furniture.

Toby the Puppy climbed into bed tonight as he usually does. He curled up under his blanket. He is, at this moment, sound asleep. He doesn’t have a care in the world.

You see, his world revolves around two human beings: My wife and me . . . in that order.

As my wife has reminded me over the years since he joined our family: He loves you, too; he just loves me more.

And so it goes. Toby the Puppy is the model of being well-adjusted. If only I could take a page from his emotional makeup.

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Those movers; they make me feel older than I am

Do you want to know the quickest, most sure-fire way to feel old beyond your years?

I’ll tell you how. Watch three young men heft and heave your possessions around as you move from one residence to the next one.

I had that treat today. We moved from Fairview to Princeton. These three youngsters showed up driving a pickup hauling a 32-foot trailer. They were 25, 26 and 28 years young. They work by the hour. But . . . they didn’t dawdle. Not for an instant.

Frankly, they put on an impressive display of stamina, brawn and, yes, brains as they pondered how to move furniture down the hall, through the doors, onto the trailer — and then back off the trailer and into the new digs.

I thought it was only “yesterday” that I could do all of that. I once was proud of the physical stamina I possessed. I long ago, however, conceded that, yep, I’m getting too long in the tooth to do a lot of the things I used to do.

Muscling furniture around is one of those things. Sure, I can move a couch from one end of the living room to the other, per my wife’s instruction. I can even maneuver into another room. What I witnessed today was something I no longer recognize in myself.

So, we’re ensconced in our “forever home.” We have work to do yet to make it totally comfortable. Too many boxes are laying around with things in them. We need to find their places. We’ll get it done.

I am tired tonight just watching those young men do what they do.

They wore me out.

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Happy Trails, Part 147: Forever has just arrived

No . . . I’m not dead!

I’m still very much alive and kicking. “Forever” in this context means we are taking up residence in the last home we intend to purchase. This is the “forever home.” We’re in it for the duration.

Actually, the move won’t occur officially until sometime tomorrow. I hope it’s early in the day. I don’t want to wait a single minute longer than is required.

The forever home is in Princeton, Texas. It’s in Collin County, which comprises about 1 million residents just north of Dallas.

I enjoy keeping you apprised of this fascinating retirement journey my wife and I have taken. Our full-time working lives ended the same year, 2012. Mine came to a close first, in August of that year; she followed suit in October.

It’s been a great ride. It is far from over.

We’ve still got our fifth wheel. We will hitch it to our pickup again quite soon to hit the road for points south and east.

First things first. We’ll welcome the movers on Monday. They’ll toss a few pieces of furniture onto their truck. Then they will transport our possessions to Princeton. We hope to have it completed in two, maybe three, hours.

Then we get to assemble this forever home of ours.

My wife is what I call the “inside boss.” She manages the interior of our home, whether it’s the one planted on the slab or it is the one we haul around behind our pickup.

Her task is to set up the house to her liking. My task is to hang around and do what I’m told to do. Move this here. Put that there. Got it?

Hey, it’s worked well for me for 47 years. Why change it up now?

This move, though, is it. We are finished packing boxes.

Thus, forever, has arrived. It feels so good!