Curating a Home

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

Most retirees, at some point, reconsider their living options, because, well… life is different now. Once the kids have left the nest and we are no longer tethered to a job, we start to reevaluate our living space. We don’t need to be within a reasonable commute to work anymore. We don’t need four bedrooms and three bathrooms now that the kids have homes of their own. And do we really want to continue to maintain that large yard? What fit our lives for years, may no longer meet the needs of our retired, empty nest lifestyle. Now what?

The beauty of it is, you are free to move wherever you like. It could be closer to grandkids. It could be seeking warmer weather. Maybe it is finally living where your heart takes you, in the woods or near the ocean. For many retirees, it is downsizing. The key is to evaluate your priorities and determine what would make this phase of your life richer and more meaningful. For us, it was downsizing, moving closer to town and being near a lake. Wherever you move, you have to start again… with four blank walls.

Four blank walls

Four blank walls. They could be anywhere: a doctor’s office, a nursing home, a restaurant… or a brand-new house. They are just walls. What transforms them into a space that welcomes you? A space that makes you want to put your feet up. A feeling of warmth that prompts you to settle in and have one more cup of coffee. Have you ever noticed that when you walk into some houses, they feel comfy/cozy and make you want to sink into a chair for a long chat? Others feel sterile and stiff. How do we transform a house into a home?

If you have lived anywhere long enough, you have lots of experiences and memories created in your home. It holds you like a worn pair of comfy slippers. You know which doors squeak, you smile when you see that the ding in the ceiling from when your husband swung a golf club a little too high in the house, or the pen marks on the door trim marking a child’s growth each year. You remember the family dinners, the holidays celebrated and the games played on the living room floor. The walls resonate with warm memories. It is the life lived within the walls that transforms a house into a home. If you move, that starts over with just four blank walls. Such was the case with us.

I finally got up the nerve to put a nail in this blank wall last week and hung this one sole picture in our guest bathroom.

Transforming those four blank walls

We moved into our new house last fall. We spent hours with the drafter and contractor trying to construct a home that fit our needs as retired empty nesters. We wanted a house that was cozy and easy to maintain, but large enough to host family gatherings comfortably. We had the opportunity to pick out the cupboards, flooring, lighting, fixtures and a million other decisions, as it was being built. A new home is lovely and beautiful but also feels a little sterile.

You would think that we would have felt right at home once we moved the last piece of furniture in. The property felt like home since it was rebuilt on the same land I grew up on, but the house needed time. It needed to be curated. Shortly after we moved in, we took a trip to the ocean, then it was prep for the holidays, family visited from out of town, and then we spent some of the winter in Arizona. On top of this, daily life continues.

And so, we find ourselves in spring and many of our walls are still bare because I hate to put nail holes in the fresh, clear new walls. What if I change my mind, or it isn’t the right height, and I leave an extra hole? Hence, the bare walls, which cause conversations to echo.

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We bought this cabinet shortly after we got married. It has traveled with us from house to house. I covered it with milk paint and distressed it several years ago. The bird and bee nests are “roasidea” finds. The pitcher was a gift from my mom, and I recently scored this mirror at a vintage shop in town.

I love shopping at Home Goods as much as anyone and nothing can beat the convenience of Amazon and Wayfair for shopping online. But a home is not curated through retail shopping. It is built slowly, over time. I like to put together a blend of less expensive purchased items that make a house look updated, along with a few investment pieces and then the final touches are the very things that give your home personality and make it unique and interesting. And they do not happen overnight.

These final touches come three ways. First are the shared experiences and memories that occur within the walls, which I have written about before in the post The House that Built a Family. A house just feels more like home once you have hosted family and friends there.

The walls of our new home are starting to resonate with laughter and warm memories after hosting a couple brunches this spring.

The second thing that makes a house into a comfortable home is that there are signs of life going on in them. A loaf of bread is cooling on the counter. There are framed photos of family and friends. A fire is dancing in the fireplace. A knitting project sits in a basket, or a book is waiting to be read. Perhaps it is a plant thriving in the window. Life is happening. There is a heartbeat to the home.

The third thing that transforms a house into a home are the unique treasures we decorate with. Items that we love, value and have collected over the years. These are the things that have meaning to us… not just something picked off of a store shelf. We remember the trip we were on when we found the porcelain birds in an antique store on a rainy day at the ocean. It could be the tablescape we put together with Roadsidea we gathered with our sister on an outdoor adventure. It might be the treasured pitcher that your mom gave you years ago that reminds you of her.

When we moved, we had years of Stuff that we had to sift through and decide what would make the move. Years of good memories. I had to be ruthless as I eliminated items that no longer served us. I could not keep all of the glassware my mom gave me, so I had to choose the most significant. The ones that fit my style and evoked warm memories every time I looked at them. The hard part was releasing the rest.

The sewing machine cover my friend made for me set the bright colors for my office. The paper flowers remind me of the class my sister and I took together to learn how to make them (left). The shelf on the right tells part of my story, from gifts special people gave me, like the treasured book from my mom, to the mementos from trips (right).
I found the birds when DIL #2 and I went antiquing on a rainy afternoon at the ocean. I am filled with that wonderful memory each time I look at them (left). The vintage school bell is from Mr. U’s aunt when she taught in a one room schoolhouse (right). We ring it when we want to gather a big crowd together for dinner.
We salvaged the door that my grandpa put in the previous home over 65 years ago (left). We also had an accent wall built from the pine paneling in the previous home that my dad and grandpa milled. The shelf was the former fireplace mantel (right).

Curating a house into a home

Consider what treasured items make you smile and fill you up emotionally when you look at them. The ones that feel like a warm hug. If they are tucked in a cupboard or some place for safe keeping, pull them out because those are the very pieces that transform a house into a home. While they may not be as gorgeous as the stuff off of a Pottery Barn shelf, they are much more unique, chock full of character, and most importantly, they hold our stories.

A house is lived in immediately. A home is curated over time by filling it with meaningful items and happy memories. What are your treasured pieces… the things that make your heart sing every time you look at them? If they are hiding in a closet or basement, bring them out. If they need a fresh coat of paint, slap some on. Maybe it is the photo that you have been meaning to get enlarged and framed (guilty). Or perhaps it is the heirloom dishes that you hesitate to use for fear of breaking them. Pull them out, clean them off, fix them up and enjoy them because these are the very items that transform a house into a home.

Now I am going to go pound another hole in the wall. Happy decorating!

This Christmas cactus brings me joy because it began as a start off my mom’s plant.

Welcome Spring

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

I know, I know… the first day of spring was March 20th. But up north where we live, March can be pretty harsh. It doesn’t really feel like spring until at least April to me. April brings sunshine, fresh turned soil, pussy willows and colorful blooms from the bulbs we planted last fall. The earth is whispering awake again. And most importantly, spring brings renewed hope. I don’t know about you, but I am ready for some bright color, a refresh, and renewed hope back in my life.

Planting bulbs in the fall is an exercise in hope.

Spring is full of new growth and wildlife babies

Little lake life has been a whole different type of wildlife entertainment than when we lived up on the mountain in the woods. From out home tucked up in the mountains we would see deer, turkeys and the occasional moose.

Momma turkey watching over her young and the frequent deer we would see in our yard at our previous home in the woods.
We would see the rare moose at our home in the mountains, but this momma moose drinking out of our bird bath was a once in a lifetime sight.

Here at the lake, we observe great blue herons, eagles, muskrats, tons of different ducks and even the occasional otter. The otter stopped by the other day to roll and play on our dock for a short time. If I were an animal, I would definitely want to be an otter. They just enjoy life so much.

This playful little otter (left) showed up one morning on the dock at our new home. The wood ducks (right) marched right through the garden gate.

Meet our new neighbors

Life is chock full of wonder, if we are aware and open to it. Such is the case with our neighbors. When we moved to this house last fall, we had a couple welcome us to the hood. They stop by unexpectedly and bring joy, smiles and entertainment. They are not your typical neighbors. They are a geese couple (geese mate for life) and while they roam the lake, they usually stop by here once a day. While many geese fly south in the winter, this couple braved the cold and stayed on. It helped that the lake did not freeze over in this unseasonably warmer winter.

Since they are here so much, I decided they needed names. Not just any cute animal name, but something quirky, fun and with a meaningful story behind it. When my mom was growing up, she had a beloved chicken that she coddled and carried around. The chicken’s name was Genevieve. My grandpa, who gave my parents this property, had the middle name Isaac. So, the couple have been crowned with the names Genevieve and Isaac. It fits them.

Genevieve and Isaac come visit us every day.

We enjoy their company. However, if they start leaving messes on our dock or yard, I will be chasing them off. My dad has fond memories of my mom getting up in the morning and going outside in her robe, armed with a broom, to chase off the geese that would come up in their yard. Perhaps the apple does not fall from the tree… we shall see. I might need to buy a new robe.

Hope springs

The bright colors and wildlife that emerge in the spring are signs of new life. Signs of fresh starts and hope. May you take the time to enjoy the wonder of spring!

Happy Easter!

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

Easter is a little early this year, but spring is in the air. The flowers are blooming and the wildlife are emerging. Easter and spring always remind of new hope and fresh starts.

I have been busy filling eggs, preparing decorations and stuffing Easter bags (instead of baskets) for the grands this year. I saw these cute little Easter jars on IG, so I created a couple of them to give away as well.

Easter gifts!

We will be hosting our annual family Easter brunch and egg hunt again this year. We have a little smaller crowd this time, with only about 30 people. (Yes, that is small for this extended family.) It has come full circle. My parents started the tradition of the Easter brunch and egg hunt years ago when my kids were little, on this very property. Maybe there will be a few eggs hidden in the lake again this year for some brave finder… just like old times.

My kids and their cousins after an Easter egg hunt years ago at my parents’ house at the lake, where we now live.

We were ruthless in giving away items when we downsized last year. We just did not have the space to keep so much crap. Besides, we don’t want our kids to have to go through all of our stuff when we leave this planet. One of the precious items that survived the cut was the Easter basket from my childhood. I remember the excitement of finding it every Easter morning filled with a large chocolate bunny, real-colored eggs and always a little chick perched on the handle. My oldest son used it for his Easter basket while he was growing up. Now I keep it to decorate with every Easter. It is filled with fond memories and good mojo. Keeping a few sentimental items gives an anchor to our history.

Son #1 (blue jacket) when he was about three years old, hauling around the Easter basket from my childhood while he hunted for eggs out at my parents’ home on the lake (left). I still decorate with that Easter basket every year (right).

I hope that you and your family enjoy a wonderful day and that you find new hope and fresh starts in the joy of spring.

Happy Easter!

A Broken System

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

This is the inevitable fact of aging… we are going to need health care. It does not matter how many squats you do or how much broccoli you eat, it you live long enough you will need to access the healthcare system. I have worked in healthcare my entire adult career and I have seen enormous changes over the years. An appendectomy used to require an incision, and a five day stay at the hospital. Now it is done with a scope, and you go home the same day. Advances in healthcare have been amazing and will continue to benefit us. On the other hand, healthcare has also declined – often referred to as a broken system.

Put on your best old geezer voice and say, “well… it wasn’t like that back in the old days.”

My recent rub with a broken system

A few weeks ago, I needed to go to urgent care for a minor issue. I checked in with the friendly clerk who was having trouble with the computer system. I knew I was in for a long haul when I looked around the waiting room and realized I would be about the 9th person to be seen.

You see a very raw cross section of humanity in emergency and urgent care waiting rooms. After all, everyone seeks healthcare at some point. We often insulate ourselves in our little world of friends and family – people who have similar values and lifestyles as us. But a waiting room throws all of humanity together, when they are not feeling their best, in a little enclosed box.

Two people were in masks and coughing. Then in walks an older woman with matted hair, coughing and hacking. She was clearly ill. When asked to wear a mask, she waived it off. The clerk firmly told her she needed to if she wanted to be seen, so the woman held a mask up loosely over her face while germs spewed out the sides. I am not here to debate COVID or requiring people to wear masks. I will leave that for people with tougher skin than me. I am just suggesting that we respect other human beings and try not to spread our germs.

After a two hour wait, I was seen by a competent nurse practitioner (NP) who was clearly overloaded. My visit was quick once I was finally seen and I was grateful to get out of there without catching something else. I recovered and then about a week later, I sadly found myself back in an ER waiting room.

My 2nd rub with a broken system

Shortly after my experience at the quick care, I received that dreaded late night phone call. My sister was on the other end of the line and said dad was headed to the E.R. I have written about my dad several times: Tucked Away up North, Heading to the Hills, The Great Columbia River Gorge, and Two Words to Maintain Your Health. He is one of the good ones.

He was the rock of my childhood and has been our entire families’ example of how to live life with integrity, wisdom, commitment, faith and a little humor sprinkled in. While my dad is 98 years old, he has been very healthy. Until recently, when the very thing he dreaded happened… he fell and broke his hip.

It was a Friday evening and the E.R. was buzzing. Patients were left on gurneys in the hallways because the beds were full. Hospital staff stopped by briefly but most whizzed past us to care for more urgent patients or were glued to their computers at the nurse’s station. As you know, it is heart breaking to see someone you love in pain, especially when you can’t do anything about it.

Like any profession, there are some excellent health care providers and some that are just there to get their paycheck. Most are friendly and competent… and all appear to be overworked. When you are ill and at your most vulnerable, you are thrown into this overstressed healthcare system. You are at the mercy of overworked healthcare providers who are trying to do their best but are spread too thin.

Once admitted to the hospital, you may have a surgeon, a hospitalist, NP or PA, and perhaps a specialist. You also have an RN, several CNAs that move in and out, a team that turns patients, one that starts the IVs, respiratory and physical therapists that tend to those specific body functions, a transport team that moves patients between units, and still another person that does the discharge planning. We were never clear on who had the overall picture. It felt like a very disjointed mix of care. And this is coming from someone who has a pretty good understanding of healthcare.

Why the system broke

People that go into healthcare do so because they want to make a difference in people’s lives. I know that was the catalyst for me. Sadly, as with most things in life, money has become the driving force in healthcare. There are too many people that are uninsured and those that are do not have much control. The insurance companies and Medicare determine which providers you can see (in network), what tests are allowed (i.e. what they will cover), how long a patient can stay in the hospital, and ultimately the number of staff a hospital can afford. Litigation has also driven up costs, which includes not just the process itself, but the costs behind the scenes to monitor and prevent it, as well as the common practice of defensive medicine.

Many competent people left the healthcare professions during COVID, deciding it was not worth the heartache and risk. Those that stayed were then short staffed. This increases workplace stress, medical errors and burnout. The main reason people leave the healthcare profession is not because they suddenly do not like their chosen profession, but because they cannot provide the kind of care that was the very reason they went into the profession to start with. It is a broken system that affects all of us.

Healing

The healthcare system is very complicated with thousands of moving parts. The upside is that technological advances continue to improve it. But more importantly, the broken system is made up of many wonderful healthcare providers who are doing their best. Healing comes from competent people who truly care about their patients. My dad’s surgery went well, and he is in the slow process of healing, thanks to some very skilled providers.

On a happier note, March madness is in full swing. My team fell out in the second round of the Big Dance, so now I am rooting for Arizona. Go Wildcats! I am still hopeful that my bracket will stay strong in the family bracket competition so I can get some of that money back from my kids that I put into braces, sports camps and college tuition. 😊

In early March we traveled down to Las Vegas with my brother and SIL to see the Zags win the WCC Tournament.
While we were there, we went to see The Wizard of Oz at Sphere. It was a magical experience.

And… I think spring might finally be on the way. The days are getting longer, and the daffodils are getting ready to bloom. Hope rises.

Signs of spring.

Lights Out

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

Our favorite weather saying in the PNW is, “if you don’t like the weather, just wait five minutes.” That is especially true in March and April. I can’t complain, because we’ve had a relatively mild winter this year. But just when we were thinking about crocuses popping up, we got hit with high winds and our worst snowstorm of the year. Of course, it happens when Mr. U is out of town.

The night the lights went out

Mr. U and I had been on a short trip, and I was flying back early. My flight was delayed several hours so I ended up not getting home until 2:00 a.m. during a high windstorm. (Just for the record, I HATE turbulence in a plane.) Branches broke, trees snapped and the wind gusts made it a challenge to keep my car on the road while driving home from the airport. When I pulled around the corner into the bay, I noticed that it was exceptionally dark. None of the neighbors had their lights on. Hum.

Inevitably, the wind had knocked the electricity out. Now I had to enter a dark house that was still fairly new to me, in the middle of the pitch-black night during a powerful windstorm. I pulled into the driveway and sat in my car while I considered my options. Earlier in the evening, my sister texted me about the storm and offered to have me stay with her. I was wishing I had taken her up on her offer at this point. I considered getting a hotel, but I don’t even know if you can check into a hotel in the middle of the night. Nope. I just needed to put on my big girl panties and go into the dark house with my cell phone light that had a low battery. It was cold and scary. Your imagination can get carried away in the dark of the night.

Fortunately, I keep a lot of candles (both real and battery operated) around the house.

I was able to get a couple candles lit to find my way around the house and was relieved to find that there were no boogeymen lurking in the closet or under the bed. (You never outgrow some fears.) I piled every blanket I could find on the bed and listened to the wind howl outside before I fell into a fitful sleep. When I woke up in the morning the lights were back on and the heat was pumping through the house. It lasted for a full day and then we got a snowstorm and out went the electricity again. This time for 24 hours.

24 hours off the grid

You do not realize how much you use electricity until you do not have it. Fortunately, our gas fireplaces work without electricity, so I was able to keep the house reasonably warm. The first several hours I was totally frustrated. I kept flipping on switches, forgetting that it would not do anything, and turning on the faucet that could not produce water.

I went to the store to stock up on water, batteries and some food that did not need to be cooked. Then I called Mr. U to complain. There was no running water, no lights, no heat, no internet, no T.V. and you can’t even charge your phone, Kindle, or laptop. We are way too dependent on our devices. Once I accepted all of this, I settled in.

A cozy, peaceful evening at home off the grid.

Turns out we don’t need all of those electric devices to enjoy an evening at home. It was cozy and oh so quiet. I have a couple little chargeable lights that cast a nice glow. Between those and the candlelight, I was able to settle in under a blanket and spent the evening reading and writing by hand. My blood pressure dropped, my heartbeat slowed and my soul was able to catch up with my body. It was exactly what I needed. There is peace in the pause that we seldom allow ourselves time to lean into.

It was so nice to have a couple of these little rechargeable touch lights. Note to self, keep them charged in the winter.

Back in the ole days

When I was a kid, growing up in this very spot we now live, the electricity was guaranteed to go out every winter… several times. We got more snow and colder temps. back then. I specifically remember one year when I was around seven years old, and the electricity went out for five days. I thought it was magical to sit by the fire and read by candlelight. I imagined myself to be Laura Ingalls Wilder from the Little House on the Prairie books that I devoured. The one negative that I remember is that the porcelain toilet seat was really, really cold! I am quite sure my mom and dad remember a lot more negatives.

I can’t imagine having the electricity out that long with five kids at home. They pulled out the camp stove, put blankets over doorways and stocked up on water, firewood and candles. No battery-operated lights or candles in those days. We did not miss our electronic devices either since there weren’t any to miss, other than the T.V. and radio. (I am starting to sound really old.)

Maybe we need more nights off the grid

I guess I forgot how much our electronic devices control our brains… until I didn’t have them for 24 hours. It shocked me how restless I was at first. I was anxious and wondering what I was going to do for a whole night. But once the quiet took over and settled into my bones, I felt such peace. I would not recommend coming home from a trip at 2:00 a.m. in a windstorm to find your soul. But maybe we should schedule a no devices day every week. Kind of like a sabbath from electronic devices and social media. Could I do it consistently? Could you?

Being without electricity is a good excuse to stay in bed a little longer and enjoy a slow morning.

Cheers to the retirement years!