Scotch and Bourbon

At dinner tonight Chris and I were talking about the difference between Scotch and Bourbon.  She does not 'like' Whiskey in any of its incarnations.  We discussed how Whiskey is made, distilled and aged.  We talked about the differences between the distilling art of Kentucky and the Highlands.  Peat and oak fires, corn and barley, years and the right amount of years.  Yup, there's a lot to talk about.  She was actually interested.  And she wanted to know,  "What is the difference in the taste of the two?"
So, I pulled out my Macallan's 12 and my Maker's Mark.  A bit in two shot glasses.  She smelled them.  She tried a finger dipped and licked.  Not enough to get a good taste.  So, the tastes were made. 
She likes bourbon better. 
And if anybody wants to know why I love my wife, read this blog and consider all of the edges tested, the envelopes pushed, prejudices ignored, the willingness  allowing experience and analysis to create possibilities where before there was only judgment. 
That there is one enlightened human being. 
She's definitely a nasty woman. 
RESPECT, just a little bit, RESPECT.

Going to Church

I've been going to church for sixty eight years.  In other words, there wasn't a time I didn't.  For the last forty-one of those years I've been running the show.  So it's Transfiguration.  And I'm in the choir.  I like our church.  I like our pastor. 
It's still weird. 
But last Sunday I listened to the Pastoral Prayer, and I heard it. 
Weird it may be, but I'm very grateful for the discipline and the presence and the community.  Who knows?  I might get used to sitting in the choir loft.
Fat Chance.

Getting Involved

There are few things I love more about my retirement than setting my own schedule.  I get up just after sunrise and roam.  I accomplish all kinds of things during the day, most of the time more than I planned to.  But each and all are from an agenda defined by my own choice, at my own pace.  This is new. 
But now, I realize there are some things I want to do that do not operate in this manner.  Choir, social gatherings, working for a political candidate.  All of them are important, each in its own way.  All of them have to do with getting involved with people outside the borders of my property.  All of them demand that I take others into account, limiting and expanding my categories of acceptance and tolerance.  And all of them point beyond myself, my own agenda.
"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose."  Not.
Most of what I have been, most of what I have done, most of the places I've gone, and the things I've accomplished have been about other people, organizations, and agendas set to a large degree by others.  I realize that it is not wrong to spend time changing that kind of life style.  I need to be my own person.  I need to claim my own agenda.  I need to claim time and use it to be creative in ways I've never had the opportunity or energy. 
But my need is not the only priority for me or certainly for the world in which I live.  Our planet, our nation, and the state of our habitation cannot be guided or lifted by one person.  Even the Lord recruited a bunch of people to move in new directions.
This nation is having a season of self involvement, claiming me, myself, and I and the comfort thereof as the only priorities that matter.  That is small minded and tragically destructive.  I cannot hide from the political ugliness that runs like a sewer through our present tense.  I cannot pretend that my bonsai, my carpentry, my home development, my reading, my writing, my learning, or even working on a loving home is all I can do to help. 
I am in a different era of my life.  So what?  I have been given gifts that can help, and I need to utilize them.  I don't know how.  I don't know where.  But that can be addressed.  I need to be careful not to slug others with my new found freedom.  Social skills need to be belted on just like pants that don't have paint on them. 
I won't give up my fun and games.  This place is my palace.  It won't stay that way if I go traipsing around being important.  I need to be a good steward.  And I need to help bring us back out of the middle ages.  I don't think they're mutually exclusive. 
Besides, who says I can't have fun being a pain in the ass out there?

Getting Sick

A friend of mine, who was one of the most intelligent and classy women I ever knew had a needle point cushion on her couch.  "Screw the Golden Years" 
A lot of our time in these years is occupied by coping with the wondrous machines we've been given, breaking down.  Our joints, our teeth, our eyes, our innards all seem to fall apart.  The doctor that trimmed up my knee last month told me that I had very little wear and tear considering the good times I'd had.  Great doc.  So much comfort that was.  He did good work.  If you need a referral, be in touch.
I do not begrudge my body having limitations. I have used it unmercifully and at this juncture, I appreciate every mile, every double diamond, every broad reach, every tackle, every scrum, every lay up, every lunge, parry, stop thrust and point.  I've also loved every paragraph read and written, every meal savored, every hand held, and nail pounded.  I give thanks that I've been so healthy for so long.
But this state of affairs didn't come gradually.  I retired in July and I'm scheduling my second surgery in February.  Did Social Security send out a memo to my body, "Break down now?" 
I'm very glad these doctors can do so much with so much less side effect, but it still is a bit strange to be discussing things like getting used to side effects. 
So my gratitude is all mixed up with anxiety and grumpiness.  And I assume it is just the beginning of  this time of life. 
I'm very grateful I've had a few challenges along the way.  Once you've been told some of these dire 'could be's' you kind of get used to down shifting and leave the trembling for later.  And I've had a few of these.  I'm also grateful for all the wise and witty folk who taught me so much as they faced their own challenges and allowed me to share the journeys with them. As we journeyed they opened a whole country of realities and honesty and faith to me that I will never forget. 
I am also very grateful for the faith that I offered to so many along the way.  The deep dark valleys that I shared and the light of faith I carried for them is for me now.  Makes it a little less dark and puts the whole thing in a better perspective when you've got a light shining.
Yup.  I'm grateful.
But don't get me wrong, it's still a pain in the ass and assorted other zones.
So here we go again.