My Porthole On Life

Lower Manhattan from the Air

Lower Manhattan from the Air

Ok, I’ve now accepted that I am no longer the bon vivant international traveler that I have purported to be for the last four months. I’ve gotten a little tired of not sleeping in my own bed. I got back on the bike this week and rode in Forest Park. It had been a while. I also initiated Phase 2 of my retirement plan, working around the house. I fixed the back porch’s bottom step on Friday. I know that it doesn’t sound like much, but fashioning a sister joist after termites had taken out the original one, made this pretty much an all day job. The highpoint of this task occurred in the morning at Home Depot, while I was fumbling through the myriad of metal joist hanging options, looking for parts. They were all purpose-built to fill functions in new construction. I found it difficult to choose the parts that I needed to jury rig a solution to my particular problem. A man my age came walking by, while talking into his cell, “I don’t know why you asked me to come to this place. I can’t find anything. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I normally spend all day looking at X-rays.” You know, I chucked a lot of expertise when I retired. It’s good to know that I still have a little something left. Wait, Kayak has $57 tickets to Orlando next week. Too soon?

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