Taking a vacation when retired is kind of a misnomer. I mean to take a vacation when you’re on a “vacation” every day seems repetitive at the least. We’ve opted to take short trips rather than the average drive to another state. We discovered that we like each other a lot more that way. The act of retirement changes your life in many ways, but the most difficult to navigate is being together – alone – all the time – repeating the same stories – becoming impatient – breathing the same air – finishing each other’s sentences – living life every moment simultaneously. Because of extenuating circumstances anything over ten miles becomes problematic. There is the need for a rest stop. the conundrum of getting hungry at different times. The necessity for a nap – which is best done while not driving. There is also the issue of conversation. When you’re hard of hearing and the radio is blasting out western music, it can be a real problem communicating. Miscommunication has been the source of most of our spats lately. Yet I keep putting off getting expensive hearing aids because most of my friends have them and still can’t hear. But I digress.

On one trip out west, we ended up in Estes Park, Colorado. The scenery was magnificent. There was wildlife everywhere and I’m not talking about the people. There were real live animals at every turn. I had no idea I was about to experience mountain sickness. I’ve been in the mountains before, but this was different. The altitude was more intense, I guess. We drove into a campground with our pick-up truck with a small camper top. I decided it was time for me to go to bed, so I crawled into the camper and started to change my clothes. All of a sudden, the already small area seemed to close in on me. I was experiencing claustrophobia, I thought. It turned out to be mountain sickness and claustrophobia. If felt like my head was detaching from my body. I let out with a blood curdling scream. “Get me out of here,” I shouted. “I can’t stand it anymore. Somebody, please help me.” Eventually i was able to free myself from my creepy prison and make my way to the restroom. When I returned, there was a large crowd gathered around our truck. It turned out the custodian for the campground was parked right next to our vehicle. He was responding to my cries for help. Others from different sites were also there to see what was going on.

There are many other tales that seem to grow in size and become embellished with time, but you wouldn’t believe them if I told you. My point is, traveling when you’re retired can be fun, a series of mishaps or another story for your blog. I must admit, the scenery was beautiful. The fresh air was wonderful. The beauty of God’s creation was definitely everywhere. When we look out our window, we can also see some amazing views. Flowers we planted 7 years ago are flourishing. Birds are starting to visit our feeders and build nests. The antics of the feral cats is always a floor show to behold. Beauty can be found even in the road construction going on in our backyard. It’s amazing to watch things beginning to take shape and what it takes to do so. I’m a homebody. My husband still loves the wilderness. He has had to make some changes to his lifestyle, so hiking is no longer an option. My weary body has given way to using a walker, but I’m trying to figure out how to turn it into a garden tool. We still have each other. We’re not dead yet and life is good. The next journey is going to be even better.