You’re a Boomer. So what? By now, you’re probably retired. Or at the very least, retirement is on your radar. Studies have shown that the average retired person has 7.5 hours of leisure time every day.
Cooking in your 60s is different than when you are younger? Don’t you think?
When we would younger, we cooked because we had to put food on the table. Our kids were hungry during the day and our husbands came home hungry. So, we would just throw something together to make sure that everyone was full and somewhat happy.
The longer I live, the more I am amazed at the way the paths of life interweave and lead us down highways and byways we never knew existed.
As my kids will tell you, for decades, my baking skills were limited to burning grilled cheese sandwiches. On second thought, I’m not even sure if toasting bread counts as “baking.” Perhaps one of my more accomplished Sixty and Me sisters can clarify this for me!
Unless you’ve been living alone in a desert for the last few months, you’ve probably heard about the impressive Desert Trip concert, scheduled for this fall. It’s a 3-day mega-event in California featuring performances by 6 of the greatest artists or groups of the Classic Rock era – The Rolling Stones, Paul McCartney, Bob Dylan, The Who, Neil Young, and Roger Waters, formerly of Pink Floyd.
We’ve all been there. We make a purchase, only to find out that the item is defective. Or, the merchandise that we order never arrives. At times, the product isn’t the problem. Instead, really horrible service ruins a long-anticipated celebration. What’s the next step?
Do you remember the song, “We Don’t Talk Anymore?”
It was written back in the 1970s, long before mobile phones had become a part of our lives.
How many of us recall the days when you picked up the phone and dialed your best friend, sister or Mother for a long gossipy chat? Usually, you curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea or coffee. Or, perhaps you had a glass of wine or a gin and tonic close to hand.
I retired in Bali… can you?
Retirement crept up on me. I had excellent health, meager savings and a severe case of age-appropriate denial. Then, three friends died of cancer within eighteen months. I wasn’t yet sixty-one. All younger than I, they had unrealized dreams and unfinished lives.