On a Fixed Income

Retirement welcomes a world full of changes, mostly good ones. But then there is the flip side of the coin, the dark and foreboding one.  A case in point  is living on a fixed income. You find yourself buying just the things you need. And the things you want, well, they just have to wait. When you’re mind’s eye lights on a perspective purchase you have to contemplate if it’s justifiable. Such as shoes. I’ve really been needing a pair of work shoes lately. My old ones are even growing things in them. But instead of going shopping for a new pair, we opted to play golf the other day. Yes, it would be our second round this week, but priorities need to remain in perspective. So off we went to The Hawk for another eighteen. Shoes would have to wait. We returned back to the RV in time to walk Brutus and get a quick shower. Thursday is the day all the workampers head off to a different restaurant for some camaraderie and laughs. This has been a great venue to grow closer to our co-workers each week. The new relationships we’re cultivating are quenching my thirst of engaging people. Upon our return we just chilled by the campfire with some music, a few glasses of wine and talking about when I’m going to get new shoes. We imbibed late into the evening knowing that Friday will be our last day off. Come Saturday morning, it will be back to work. We arose today and Robin looked a little ashen in the face. She had a good sleep so that wasn’t the problem. I suggested some alka-seltzer. She suggested another round of golf. This would be the third time this week however, as the day came to pass, we found this to be the perfect elixir. Going to The Hawk is such a delight. There are two gentlemen at the entrance to the parking arena. They grill dogs and sausage, sell sodas and golf accessories. For some reason, Barry and Chip have taken a liking to us. Their smiles are contagious. They wave as they see the truck approaching. By the time we have our shoes changed they’ve driven a cart over to us. And this is not their job. They look as forward to seeing us as we them. No matter how your day, how your game, or how your swing, they always seem to make you feel better. And if they see Robin plunk her second shot  into the water approaching #9, they alway bequeath her with some colored crystal balls at the turn. We stop for a dog, even if we’re not hungry because interacting with them is worth more than the game. Finishing our third round today was just what Robin needed.  We went back to the rig, picked up Brutus, and headed to Ephrata. We needed a Walmart fix as the coffee supply was running low and we just needed some more rope lights for the perimeter of our camp site. One can never have enough chotchkies. On the return trip we spied an Amish store that drew us in like a front porch light does to moths on a steamy July night. They had a myriad of colorful flowers teetering off the roof rafters. We’re both succors for hanging baskets. We have them adorning the site, playing border to the rig and stairs. There can never be too many flowers. Feeling a bit queasy, I knew my blood sugar must be running low.  I needed to fulfill a penchant to procure some homemade strawberry rhubarb pie for dessert. This stop proved to be even better than the Wallyworld mecca. Upon returning home, Robin cleaned the rig, scrubbed our golf clubs and adjusted the charger on the golf cart while I made some kick-ass chicken parmigiana accompanied with a fresh garden salad with homemade sweet bread. Chilling the rest of the evening, I realized that new shoes can wait for payday, other things are far more important for this good life to continue.