Second Chapters. Third Acts. Call it what you will, your sixties are a time to recreate, reclaim and often reinvent yourself. You may be retired or partially so. You did a good job with the kids and they are carving out their own lives now. Maybe you’ve left a marriage and find yourself single again.
So, I’m busy deleting all those Facebook sidebar adverts for funeral plans, lawyers who will arrange Power of Attorney and annuity providers when it suddenly hits me: who the cotton-picking heck do these people think I am? Closely followed by: who do I think I am?
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?