WORKING it out

For a while back there, it was a contest between which would end first, the holidays or my marriage. No, don’t panic – I’m exaggerating, but only slightly. It’s just that the two of us aren’t entirely used to being home alone together for days on end and sometimes the adjustment gets a little bumpy. Not unlike landing at Wellington Airport.

At one point, my dearly beloved wife was driven to shout, “You’re driving me crazy with all your cleaning up after me,” which rather hurt my feelings. Though I might be exaggerating there a bit too about my feelings. But all I’d done was pull the plug out of the kitchen sink.

I might also have washed a pot, which turned out to have contained some sauce she’d made earlier, which was a bit bad of me. But honestly, I thought it was another dirty pot. I like to stay on top of the dishes. I hate them hanging around.

My darling, on the other hand, uses the “let it build up and clean it later” rule, so it can be tricky co-existing, though mostly it went all right, I thought. I haven’t asked her. She’s back at work now and I’m home alone again.

And please don’t think I’m suggesting that’s my happy place – being home alone with the wife at work. It’s neither my happy nor my sad place, mostly it’s up and down, somewhere in the middle.

But it got me thinking about how it must have been in the olden days when the working husband retired and was home to stay, invading the

WHY THE HOLIDAYS MADE COLIN THINK OF RETIREMENT

wife’s space and driving her crazy, maybe.

I heard some expert on the radio recently saying that retirement is “not a destination, not a 30-year weekend”. The expert reckoned that these days, people were retiring too soon and getting bored with it, and that people think they’re ready to retire when really they’re not.

I’ve never had any intention of retiring. It sounds like something only a shy person should do. A couple of my pals, a little bit older than me, have retired.

One of them even uses “the R word” out loud, almost like he’s pleased about it.

“Aren’t you going to take up a hobby?” I asked, but he said he didn’t have time for that sort of thing. He seems constantly astonished at how all the spare hours he thought he’d have on his hands fill up. He seems happy, but that could just be the first sign of falling apart. Who knows?

I figure retirement will come along and take me away when it’s good and ready to. In the meantime, I stay busy with things that earn me a dollar while that’s still a good feeling, not to mention it helps with the bills.

In other local news, we have shelved our previously announced plans to move from Wellington back to Auckland, at least until we stand more of a chance of affording a house up there. Summery summer fully arrived for once this time and weakened our resolve to move.

The grandchildren in Auckland won’t be happy, but they can come to stay for the holidays. We’d appreciate the company.