The Planning Begins

Our conversations get interesting!

By early February 2020, Phil was almost fully on board; his only stipulation was that we not immediately sell the house.  We love our little house in the Texas Hill Country, with its art studio in the backyard and my beautiful garden.  And being only a half hour away from our Texas kids, we were well settled.  I had to agree with Phil that renting our house for the first year would give us a soft landing if we found that the roaming life didn’t suit us.  That decision tentatively made, we began seriously exploring options and planning for real.

I was still reading Lynne Martin’sbook aloud, and Phil was enthusiastic.  Our reading led to many interesting conversations, such as:

 

  • I’m the planner in the family, arranging most of our trips, social engagements, budget, etc.  Phil is the one who forces me to slow down and consider more options, really think things through, and be more thorough.  He also is passionate about art and history, and he has dragged enticed me to museums and galleries I wouldn’t have seen on my own.  We agreed that we’d rely on each other’s strengths to make this work.
  • We agreed to start with places where we’re comfortable, then gradually become more adventurous.  So perhaps we’ll start with France, Italy, and the UK (our daughter and son-in-law live in Europe), and as we sharpen our roaming skills we’ll travel to places where less English is spoken and the cultures are more diverse.
  • Phil is an artist, primarily focused on landscapes.  We’ll have to figure out how he can adapt his painting style to life on the road, without the sophisticated equipment he relies on to transform photos into ready-to-paint sketches on canvas.  For me, aside from this blog, my “career” will be organizing our adventures as the family travel agent.

 

Phil’s painting of a creek near where we live

 

  • We have moved 16 times in our 38 years of marriage, including going from 3600 square feet down to 1600, so we know how to downsize.  We have given our kids (ok, persuaded them to take) furniture, dishes, décor, art, and memorabilia, and I’m frankly surprised the IRS hasn’t investigated us because we’ve donated so many things to charity over the years.  But still we have a LOT of stuff.  I’m ruthless about getting rid of stuff that we no longer need or love, especially after being inspired by Marie Kondo.  But this is different.  We’re looking at getting rid of everything we can and moving all the rest into a storage unit.  Over the past couple of weeks one of us will say, “I could never part with our dining table,” or “Could you live without your Wustoff knives?” or “What would I do with all the stuff in my studio?”  And let’s not even talk about the books.  I have over 300 cookbooks and even more fiction, poetry, and nonfiction.
  • How will we know whether we have enough money?  We had already decided to spend 2020 living at or below the amount we expect to have in retirement, as a test.  In January we spent about half what we spent in December, and we’re on a similar track for February, so it’s looking good so far.  And now we have even more motivation to save.  One recent Saturday after seeing a movie complete with adult beverages and snacks, we nixed our dining out plans to eat at home, and every time I think of buying something I think, “We’d just have to get rid of it in two years, so why buy it?” 

 

Regardless whether we end up as roaming retirees, this exercise is changing us, making our conversations more impactful and weightier—and more fun.  When I worked at a community mental health center many years ago, one of our consultants told us “Every couple needs a baby.  Not necessarily a human child, but some creative project they can share.”  Have we found our next baby?

 

 

 

Yikes!

 

That word expresses how I felt as I contemplated retirement.  By age 65 I’d decided not to retire until 70, so I had time.  But every time I thought about life after retirement, all I saw was a hazy gray fog.  I loved my artist husband and our life together.  I loved cooking, reading, and traveling.  And we had wonderful friends and family, especially our adult children and their partners.  But after a long healthcare executive career filled with travel, brilliant colleagues and clients, and constant stimulation (ok, you can call it stress), how on earth was I going to fill my time in a meaningful way?

I had started my career as a psychologist in a community mental health center after teaching in public schools for four years during grad school, so after those years of public service, volunteer work didn’t hold much appeal.  That was confirmed after only one day volunteering at the local thrift shop—nice idea, but not for me!  I had joined my college sorority alumnae organization, thinking it might provide opportunity for engagement, but although the members were lovely, I found little common ground.  I had taken up gardening, which I love, but that wasn’t enough to fill up retirement.  My lifelong reading addiction could consume many hours, but I needed more.  And you can only host so many dinner parties. 

In our family, each year we choose a word to guide our intentions for the coming year.  After hearing me say for the 10,000th time “When I retire. . .” my wise daughter suggested the word NOW.  Do it now, don’t postpone living your life every moment.  And after my husband experienced a couple of health scares, her words resounded powerfully.  But at the age of 67, with retirement looming in less than three years, I was focused on NOW but still anxious about LATER.

As it so often happens, that’s when the universe intervened.  Having kids in Europe and having fallen in love with France and Italy, we’d been thinking about living abroad for all or part of our retirement.  But we also had kids in Texas, where we lived, as well as wonderful friends and extended family in the U.S. How could we handle being so far away from them?  As I was compulsively searching for other’s experiences living abroad, I happened upon a blogpost by Lynn Martin, who with her husband Tim had sold their home, stored their most precious belongings, and become “nomadic retirees,” living several months in various locations.  Eureka!

That evening, as I prepared dinner while my husband made cocktails, I couldn’t wait to share my new idea.  “Honey, I just discovered a new concept.  What would you think about becoming permanent travelers in retirement?”  Now, my husband is not what you’d call impulsive.  He ruminates over every decision, taking (in my admittedly impatient view) inordinate time and procrastinating on decisions.  As I shared what I’d learned from Lynn’s “Home Away” blogpost and we started our initial discussion, I knew I’d need to go slowly so that Phil could warm to the idea gradually.  So of course I immediately bought Lynn’s book and insisted on reading it aloud over coffee in the mornings and wine in the evenings.  To my delighted surprise, Phil was tentatively on board almost immediately!  Now, to begin thinking through this new idea.

Within a week I’d developed a draft budget for our nomadic life, evaluated our finances and the pros and cons of selling our house, and compulsively digested everything I could find online about this exciting way of life.  The only hitch so far was figuring out what we would do with the head of our household, our cat Baxter.  We couldn’t imagine being without him, but we knew he was not cut out for the rambling life.  But as of today, we have over two years before I retire, so that should be plenty of time to solve all the problems associated with this notion.  I had recently read Mark Manson’s book The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, which had taught me that life is a series of problems, and the lucky ones are those who get the best problems to solve.  We now had a top-notch set of great problems.

“Every time I thought about life after retirement, all I saw was a hazy gray fog.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Visiting the Berlin Wall in the rain

 

 

 

 

 

 

On a family trip to Sweden this was our favorite dinner–featuring reindeer tongue!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baxter leading a meeting