
…but whether about retirement or the writers’ life, I’m not certain.
I.
When I was a kid, I used to tease my grandfather for wearing plaid pants together with a striped shirt. He was of the generation of old people that dressed more formally – he still wore a fedora to go out in the early ‘70s – so even just around the house he’d wear slacks and a button down shirt, but if he wasn’t going anywhere he didn’t worry which slacks and shirt he’d picked to wear together.
Last night we ate outside on the deck as we often do; it’s chilly this time of year, but comfortable enough with warm clothes and a propane heater, and we get to watch the sunset. I was wearing a lightweight loose sweater and leggings, so I added one of my fleece-lined flannel shirts. (They are snuggly and our house is chilly, so I love them and have several. ) I grabbed it in a hurry when dinner was ready and didn’t realize exactly what I was wearing until bedtime when I went to get undressed.
So, this is for you, Grandpop Lou.

II.
These are my fingernails this morning. It’s a magnetic polish I bought for Halloween; you get blobs of purple or iridescent green depending where you place a magnet when the polish is wet. I put I on three or four ago to experiment.
Nail polish never lasts me that long! It’s not because I do less with my hands in retirement. I was working at a desk job; if anything I’m typing more now that I’m working on a novel. I think it’s because I’m not bored; I used to pick at my polish as soon as I noticed the least imperfection. It’s easier to ignore them now.

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