Feeling better, not perfect…

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Last Saturday night, we attended a 50th birthday party for Tom’s nephew. Tom drank. I drove as usual, which proved to be an hour’s drive each way. 

On the way home, my lively and animated passenger kept me entertained   With his usual jokes, backseat driving and directions, in this case leaving me much better off on my own resources, stone sober that I was.  His ongoing enthusiastic suggestions would surely would have taken us to a dead end road to oblivion.   

Tom seldom drinks.  Tom seldom drinks enough to get noticeably drunk and never has a hangover.  Tom is never sloppy or obnoxious.  He’s funny, very funny. As a result, I gladly drive when he wants to imbibe on those special occasions a few times each year.

Arriving home, he flopped into bed, snoring softly only minutes later. I poured a glass of ice water to leave on his bedside table, just in case he awoke thirsty during the night, along with the two Tylenol tablets. Just in case. 

Sipping iced tea all night, I struggled to fall asleep, finally relenting by taking two Formula 303 tablets, an all natural homeopathic remedy that works wonders getting me to sleep, not necessarily keeping me asleep. (It’s safe to take two more if necessary, that works as well the second time).  

Two hours after drifting off, I awakened to the gut-wrenching sound of gut-ripping coughing and relentless sniffing.  Darn!  He’s got a cold!  How will I ever fall sleep with all of this noise, light sleeper that I am?

Awakened no less than 20 times during the night to these “noises,” in the morning I felt as if I was the one with a hangover, struggling to drag myself out of bed and begin the day.  How can he be sick now, when we have so much to do?  

With his long work hours, he had little time or energy lately to get “his stuff” sorted and packed, mostly tools and memorabilia to give to the kids and grandchildren.  Trying not to nag (not my style) I gently reminded him over the past few weeks that time was marching on.  

Let’s face it, I tend to “over-prepare” well in advance and Tom, bless his heart, is somewhat of a procrastinator. We accept these differences in one another knowing full well, that when it’s time to go, we both will be ready.

As sick as he was all weekend, somehow he managed to work on his piles of papers, attack his boxes filled to the brim, and help me complete the packing and weighing of his luggage, mine done months ago.  

The weekend nights were sleepless for me with his coughing, choking and snorting while he remained relatively unconscious from the big dose of Nyquil PM.  Monday morning he dragged himself to work while I remained at home, minus a car to drive, preparing to get back to packing and sorting.  

On Monday night it hit me, first a little tickle in my throat, a peculiar little cough and a feeling of general malaise. As the sickness left him, it gathered deeply into my head, leaving me useless to perform even the smallest tasks.

In years past, this degree of discomfort would have driven me to go to urgent care for cough medicine, antihistamines and antibiotics.  Not so the case. Practice, practice, practice, I told myself. Practice getting through this illness without a doctor visit, toughing it out, drinking hot tea, eating light, healthy meals, moving about to avoid muscle loss and weakness.  

Last night around 3:00 am, I relented and took a half dose of the Nyquil PM when the coughing wouldn’t stop. Without my contacts in, I couldn’t read the label.  I searched my night table drawer, now nearly empty from cleaning and packing, for an old pair of reading specs.  What I read shocked me! 

Oh, no!  I had just downed high fructose corn syrup!  Is anything free of junk these days? I slugged down the second half of the dose. Tonight, sleep, sweet sleep was more therapeutic and meaningful that my desire to avoid HFCS.  I slept until 7:30 am, feeling better, not perfect, but better.

A wasted number of days with little accomplished, I resigned myself to the reality that when we travel the world, on occasion we’ll be sick, we’ll be tired and we won’t accomplish anything.  

However, while sick this week, Tom (never missing any work) and I both applied for Railroad Retirement. I researched less costly health insurance plans outside the US, finding a  more affordable option (we’ll write more about this later). I contacted social security about my Medicare options, packed several boxes, did more laundry, cooked a fresh dinner each night, made the bed each morning, talked to the pharmacy about purchasing our year’s worth of drugs out of our pocket (sans insurance) at month’s end and on and on.

I can’t wait until we’re gone to be able to spend some time doing nothing. How peculiar that will be. I’ve never “done nothing.”

Today, we’re both feeling better, not perfect, but better.

Twenty one days…

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“They” say it may take 21 days to break a habit.   Yesterday, armed with this assumption, I began the process of changing the familiar routines that so shaped my days over the past two years of my own retirement, over the past 26 years of life here on the peninsula.  

Awakening at 4 am with a rare and unexpected head cold, I rationalized my stuffy nose and sore throat as the Universe’s way of reminding me to slow down, to breathe more deeply, to choke my organized and purposeful actions into a much gentler pace.  

In 21 days these daily habits, entrenched in our lives all these years, will be reshaped into new and unfamiliar patterns; brewing my usual morning tea in a strange teapot, pouring it into a different cup while tasting a slight variance from using bottled water. 

As always, the first sip will be accompanied by my gaze out the window in the near future at the vast expanse of the sea, mysterious and foreboding, as opposed to the cozy comfort of gazing at the lake for all these years, a shoreline in the not too distant horizon, predictable even on the windiest of days.  Not so the sea.

Stuffy head, I welcomed the cold, crisp air on the early morning walk, especially chilly at 32 degrees, fingers numb and tightly tucked into my pockets, having failed to wear gloves.  

Wiggling my toes in my tennis shoes hoping to ward off the cold, I picked up the pace walking almost an hour, stopping periodically to look up at a noisy flock of geese honking their way south or to blow my nose into the soft paper towels I had stuffed into my jacket before walking out the door.

When will I be so cold again?  In Belize, at the little oceanfront house, when the average daily temperature is 83 degrees in the winter months?  In Tuscany, next summer?  Doubtful. In Africa next fall, again a house on the sea, in a time in which it will actually be their spring? Unlikely. Or, in the prime season in Kauai in 2015, the ocean at our doorstep, the warm breezes in our faces? No, it won’t be cold.

The colorful leaves, crispy under my feet, a part of my expectations in any fall season yet to come, will forever be embedded into my memories of seasons so clearly defined.  We’ve enthusiastically welcomed and sadly bid adieu to the seasons, ready to move on to the next, often too cold with record breaking temperatures and snowfalls or, too hot with record breaking heat.

Twenty one days to break the habit of that which we have known and loved, at times bemoaned and begrudged, to begin anew in a strange land, finding our way with a touch of trepidation, with an abundance of wonder and with a never-ending desire to become familiar once again. 

Road trip angst further resolved…

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Like a song stuck in my head (an “ear worm”), I have continued to worry about the security of our luggage while on the four day road to the Scottsdale, Arizona beginning on October 31, 2012 as we commence the first leg of our worldwide year’s long journey.

Yes, we now have the “Club”, the window stickers and the warning lights for the console of Tom’s car creating an appearance that we have an additional armed alarm system along with the factory installed system. 

Our plan has been to take our time on a leisurely drive to Arizona for the two month stay to complete all of our paperwork, obtain our second passports, purchase health and emergency evacuation insurance, prepare our 2012 taxes to be sent by email to our accountant, establish residency in Nevada, apply for Nevada driver’s licenses and get Tom’s new eyeglasses.  

Some have asked why we are spending two months in Arizona when in fact we are establishing residency in Nevada. Before deciding on our worldwide journey, we had decided to spend time in Scottsdale, a  delightful climate and city while contemplating what we wanted to do during this last third of our lives.  

We’d committed to the condo in Scottsdale late last year and chose to honor that commitment, although we could have gotten out of it months ago.  Also, Tom’s two, possibly three of his six sisters will be a short drive from us while they spend their winter in Apache Junction.  It will be fun to spend time with them).

During this period, we will also purchase and set up two new laptops, two new unlocked smart phones and other digital equipment. We’ll spend four days in Henderson mid-November to babysit son Richard‘s dog Monty while Richard is out of town.  It will be rather entertaining to spend some quality time with our grand dog, a rambunctious pug who enjoys sitting on the back of the sofa leaning on one’s shoulder and snorting in one’s ear. 

Our long time friends of 25 years, Lisa and Brian, live only a few blocks from Richard.  As world travelers, foodies and health nuts, we always have plenty of lively and animated conversation.  

In December, we’ll spend eight days in another vacation rental house in Henderson, Nevada (will post photos later), have our final dentist appointments, throw a party for Tom’s 60th birthday on December 23rd and celebrate Christmas with friends and family.  Whew!  We’ll need a vacation after all that!

On December 28th, we’ll head back to our vacation rental in Scottsdale, pack up all our bags, heading directly to San Diego on New Year’s Eve to stay with our niece and her hubby, to finally leave the US on our first cruise which will be through the Panama Canal, on January 3rd.  

In any case, my angst is wrapped around the risk of a thief(s) stealing all of our remaining worldly (no pun intended) possessions out of the back of Tom’s SUV while we’re parked at a hotel or while dining in a restaurant along the way. 

Sure, everything will be insured but that’s not the point.  The point is that I have spent a good chunk of the past eight months outfitting our bags for their contents, commensurate with the particulars of each location in our journey; weather, activities, social events, etc.  

It would be a daunting task if we were robbed. The thought of replacing each well-thought out item while dealing with the insurance company in an attempt to recover our losses, and subsequently continuing on with our plans, is nothing short of intimidating. This dreadful possibility has continued to nag at me over the past week since purchasing the Club and the other “security” items mentioned in an earlier post.  

While driving my car the last time to deliver it to the dealer who purchased it last Friday, a thought popped into my head:  What if we were able to link all of the bags together with two “cut proof” indestructible locked cables?

With each of six suitcases weighing about 55 pounds each, plus about 25 pounds for each of two carry on bags, it would be literally impossible for one, two or more thieves maneuver 380 pounds of bulky luggage, tied together, (also anchored to the interior of the car), unload them and walk them down the street to the own vehicles.  

That may deter a theft, ultimately deciding to steal from a more convenient scenario all the while our alarm is blaring.  As soon as I returned home, albeit “car-less” I started searching online for the appropriate cables.  Here’s what we purchased:

Kryptonite Kryptoflex 1218 Combo Cable Bicycle Lock (1/2-Inch x 6-Foot)

Kryptonite Kryptoflex 1218 Combo Cable Bicycle Lock (1/2-Inch x 6-Foot)by Kryptonite

Price: $21.49 & eligible for FREE Super Saver Shipping on orders over $25. Details 
Product Features

  • Integrated, user-set, four-digit combination lock has indexed number dials for error-free combination setting; adjustable spline attachment rotates up to 240 degrees for variety of lock carrying locations
  • Flexible 12-millimeter braided steel cable with protective vinyl cover offers increased cut resistance; patented EZ Mount transportation system is versatile enough for variety of tube frames and shapes

Tying all the bags together, looping the two cables together and perhaps tying them to the steering wheel, should create a secure situation.  Covering them with our over-sized black tablecloth will provide added security.  Ah, I feel better.

Also, we’ll use the same two cables to lock together each of our sets of bags when we’re wheeling them in each of our 250-pound-capacity rolling carts. Doing so prevents a thief from walking by and grabbing a single bag. This provides us with an additional use of the cables. 

Yes, I do feel relieved enough to let this go to free my mind to continue on with the zillions of other tasks at hand, as the countdown continues, 15 days until we move to our friend’s home, 22 days until we leave. Whew!

Car sold!…Seamless transaction…

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In a 24 hour period from Thursday to Friday, I drove over 150 miles around town, meeting prospective buyers to finally sell my car.  Slightly nervous about meeting strangers, I chose public parking lots, close to busy roads.  

Tom suggested I turn over the keys to any prospective buyers to test drive it on their own rather than join them, better to have a stolen car than to be kidnapped!  I agreed.

Listed on Craigslist for free, CarSoup for $9.95 for one month and Auto Trader for $20 for one month, I was delighted to notice an increase in activity when I placed the last online ad on Auto Trader, resulting in a sale only a day later. Had I known Auto Trader reached such a wide audience, I would have listed it there in the first place. Who knew?
The last car I’d sold several years ago was the result of an ad in CarSoup. This time, I didn’t have much time to be overly creative or frugal. With our high level of motivation I was determined to get the car sold as quickly as possible, leaving one more crucial task out of the way.

Oddly, it sold to a dealer, Patrick O’Conner/owner/dealer of a finance company, First Source Financial. Patrick had a potential customer on hand.  My instincts told me that his buyer may have required “special financing” allowing him to resell it at a higher price than he paid me, a price with which I was satisfied. Win, win for everyone.

Treated with kid gloves, not only did I feel at ease throughout the transaction working with Patrick but also with his delightful assistant Jennifer, who was kind enough to drive me the long way home after I’d dropped off the car at his dealership on Friday. 

It was an odd sensation when Jennifer left me at home. Looking out the window, I realized that for the first time in my adult life, I didn’t have a car of my own. For a moment I felt trapped, even lost.  Tom’s long work days left me at home certainly with plenty to occupy my time over the next 17 days when we move to our friend’s home as the estate sale begins.  

Suddenly, everything is moving quickly. While grocery shopping early in the morning before turning over the car, I carefully calculated each item that I purchased to ensure that it was “just the right amount” to last through our remaining days.  I started saying goodbye to the staff of many years at our local grocery store, knowing that I may only be back one or two more times.  How odd.

I’ve lived in this general area of the western suburbs of Minneapolis for the past 40 years, seemingly far away yet only 30 minutes to downtown.  For years we used the same bank, the same library, the same State Farm office, the same drugstore, the same Target store, and the same post office. 

On Tuesday, I sadly said goodbye to the staff at the post office while dropping off a package. Over the years I’ve come to know and  appreciate each one of them for their kindness, their great service and for remembering me each time I entered their door.

We won’t be able to say goodbye to everyone. The time is flying by so quickly that I am now left wondering how everything will get done in time, let alone having time to see everyone to say goodbye. Now, with no car, I am dependent upon friends and loved ones coming here to say goodbye.  Some will come, others will not.  I accept this.  
That which seems so huge and meaningful to each one of us is often, but a blip to others, as we all get caught up the whirlwind of our daily lives seeking a sense of achievement, of fulfillment and of responsibility.  
I have no expectations other than to embark upon this adventure with an open heart and eager mind, to learn, to grow, to experience and of course, to share. 

Not only will we share this life changing experience with one another, but with all of our readers who may in some small way find their own sense of discovery in the never-ending details, the not so professional looking photos, from the heartfelt perspective of two determined retirees as they travel about the world.

Glitches, resolutions and more health insurance research…

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We knew there would be glitches.  We’ve planned for them.  We’ve built emergency funds into our budget.  And here we are, not even out the door and a glitch occurs. Oh.

As we approached the 90 day sail date of our first cruise on the Celebrity Century on January 3, 2013 , our final payment was due.  This first cruise was more expensive than a number of our other cruises but Tom wanted to see the Panama Canal during its state of construction and this was a perfect time.

We justified the expense with it providing us with not only 15 days of cruising to the Panama Canal, but a final destination of Fort Lauderdale, leaving us in place to board yet another ship for our cruise to Belize.  Perfect!

My calendar marked for this upcoming balance due of $4645 after having paid a $900 deposit some months ago, I was prepared to pay in full this past Wednesday.  

In an effort to keep as much as possible of our credit cards free of any large balances, I paid using an American Express card (getting points) and our debit card (no points).  Alas, an error was made by Celebrity’s processing department and my debit card was charged an additional $2400 over and above the amount I had authorized.  

As a result, we had paid $7945 for a $5545 cruise. I don’t know about you, but unless a situation such as this is remedied in a matter of minutes, I can get a little testy, not so much rude as stern and extraordinarily persistent. Yes, very persistent.  

I kept reminding myself, after an hour of the phone whereby the cruise line could not detect that they overcharged us, to stay calm. Our bank account said otherwise.  We had expected these situations to occur.  Its all part of the process.

With no resolution, I called our bank, filed a claim after producing evidence of all the payments to prove we had overpaid. Jean, a very helpful banker was clearly willing to assist without hesitation.  

She not only hadn’t filed the claim upon email receipt of my documentation, (proving cost of the cruise and all payments, including that which was made with American Express), she put the $2400 (the bank’s money!) into our account  cover the difference. I had some bill pay payments in the process and had not prepared my checking account for this unexpected amount.  Sure, I could have transferred funds to cover this, but when they offered, I jumped all over it.

After more email communication with Celebrity the refund appeared this morning, much to my relief. Immediately I sent the bank an email requesting that they drop the claim and take back their temporary $2400. Whew!  

I knew it would eventually be resolved.  However, I didn’t want to spend valuable mental time these next crucial days (we move out in 20 days for the estate sale) thinking about this a possible 10 day period, the usual time to dispute a claim.  Thank you, Jean.  Thank you, bank.  Giving her this blog address, I hope she reads this post and knows how grateful we are.  

I always try to insulate Tom from these situations.  He works. I’m retired and besides, I must admit, I kind of enjoy the satisfaction of getting issues resolved as quickly and efficiently as possible.  No voice-raising, no name calling, no threatening and thus diplomacy prevails when backed by solid evidence. Love it!

In the past several days a bit of angst was “wafting” (love that word) around my brain that maybe, just maybe, we could get a better price on a worldwide health insurance policy for me when Medicare will kick in on my birthday next February. The thought of paying $432 plus $107 for Medicare makes me cringe, especially when Medicare doesn’t cover me outside the US. 

After contacting no less than a dozen companies over the past week I stumbled across what proved to be a delightful experience; email and phone communication with Gerry Mould of April Medibroker Ltd in the UK.  Gerry Mould took the time to prepare a substantial list of options for me (Tom is five years younger than I and will have a retiree policy through his company until he goes on Medicare in 2017) and also spent considerable time on the phone with me from the UK, answering many questions regarding our somewhat unique situation.  

Had we been able to acquire an address outside the US (their company is not licensed in the US), we would have been able to apply for a policy saving us over $2000 a year for coverage equal to or better than that which we have been planning with the State Farm supplement that also provides international coverage.  

Unfortunately, we won’t be able to work with Gerry Mould at this time. Who knows? Maybe someday we’ll be considered official “expats” and actually have that foreign address.  In the interim, I’ve left a message for our State Farm agent to review my health insurance quote when he returns from a convention next week.  Perhaps, we can find a less costly option. I’ll report back.

Now, I am off to see if i can complete the transaction on the sale of my car!  In either case, I will report back. With possibly no mode of transportation during the day, I’ll spend my time getting back to the issues at hand…completing our packing. 

I can’t wait to be on the road on our way to Scottsdale after all the tearful goodbyes, the finalization of the sale on the house, the move to a friend’s house for a week during the sale, the planning of Tom’s retirement party with his co-workers and family, the completion of the packing of Tom’s bags, working on the redesign of this blog with the web designers, filling the year’s worth of prescriptions, attending the neighborhood party our friend Sue is having for us next weekend and all the tearful goodbyes.  Ah, yes, all the tearful goodbyes.

Last visit with Nurse Marsha…Ouch!

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Never in my entire life have I walked into a medical clinic and felt so welcomed. Only minutes after I checked in, Nurse Marsha, head travel clinic nurse at Park Nicollet Travel Clinic, warmly greeted me, telling me how enthused she was to see me on her schedule for my last round of injections.

She knew how anxious I had been about possible side effects through this entire process, having had a few frightening immunizations in the long ago past. My fears were worsened after many hours of relentless online research looking for all the reasons why one should not be subject to such an obvious health risk.

My greatest fear was the yellow fever vaccine, well known for disastrous outcomes in a small fraction of the recipients. Alas, we survived. Tom was a little queasy and flu-like for one day and for me, I lapsed into bed midday for four hours of  uncomfortable thrashing about, to fully recover in time to cook a lovely dinner.  The worst was over.

Nurse Marsha was delightful, bubbly, and concerned for us, for our safety and for our joy. Lively and animated banter ensued between us as my heart grew full with her charm and interest.  For the first time in this process, I freed myself from the monumental tasks at hand, allowing a wave of excitement to wash over me, which I had held at bay all this time, fearful of losing focus.

Upon leaving I handed her our card for this blog, which she enthusiastically accepted, promising to follow along with us. Perhaps, knowing the vital role she played in our health as we travel the world over the next several years. Thank you, dear Nurse Marsha. Thank you for easing us along the way.

Yesterday’s injections:  the final booster of three Twinrix injections, for Hepatitis A and B, (ow, ow, ow!  Painful!), the latest flu vaccine (nothing to it) and the take home Typhoid Live Vaccine.   (Apparently, there is now a shortage of the Typhoid vaccine, which wasn’t the case only a few weeks ago when Tom received it).  

Over a period of eight days, I must swallow one of four live Typhoid vaccine tablets (now safely residing in our refrigerator) every other night at bedtime with a full glass of lukewarm water.  Nurse Marsha explained the importance of taking this pill at night on an empty stomach to reduce the risk of stomach distress as opposed to the morning when one’s stomach would be more empty after a night’s sleep. 

Of course, I complied. At 10 pm last night I poured myself a huge glass of tepid water and chugged the pill. Nothing happened. Good. I went to bed anticipating awakening during the night for a trip to the loo. Well, lately I’ve been waking up at 3:00 am anyway, after a run of convoluted dreams of hotels and other people’s homes, my mind racing with the upcoming tasks of the day.

Oddly, I slept through the night to awaken at my usual 5:30 am, ready to tackle the day, happy to feel well, happy to have slept through the night.

My vaccines are almost over, with three more Typhoid pills to take over the next six nights.  Tom must have his final Twinrix booster after his final waiting period ends November 22, 2012.  Son, Richard gave us the name of his doctor in Henderson, Nevada.  We’ll arrange the appointment soon for one of the few times we’ll be in Nevada in November and December.  

After about 15 injections, my share of needless worry, multiple trips to see Nurse Marsha with only a few hours of discomfort, we’re appreciative of the manner in which she eased the way, by that which she taught us about food and water safety when traveling abroad and most of all, enriched by simply knowing her.

Today will be another busy day; off to the office supply store for an ink cartridge for the printer (ran out of ink with documents to print before we go) and to buy a portable keyboard for my laptop. (We’re buying new lightweight laptops while in Scottsdale after Window 8 releases). In the past few days, the case broke and now the keyboard requires Herculean effort to press a key.  Not surprising, huh?

Clothes, clothes and then more clothes…

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Tom never wore this jacket. It’s the wrong size for any of our sons.  It will be sold at the sale.  Bye, bye jacket.

We aren’t pack rats.  We don’t have clothes hanging in our closets with price tags still attached, with the exception of this Columbia jacket I purchased for Tom last Christmas. He liked this jacket, deciding to save it to wear it this upcoming winter in order to get one more year’s wear out of an older jacket. This upcoming winter we’ll be Belize.  He won’t be wearing it.

We’re not shopaholics.  As a good laundress, as mentioned in an earlier post, our clothing usually lasts for years.  A few times a year, I’d bargain shop for clothes for both of us, usually at the Outlet Mall, printing off their online coupons before shopping and using an additional coupon booklet for deeper discounts.

I’d usually come home with three or four bags of 40 or more items spending  an average of $5.00 to $7.00 per item. The remainder of our clothing shopping occurred online.  I’d usually purchased my jeans online at Gap or Old Navy, and occasionally purchase new and unused jeans on eBay. 

Wearing an odd size, a small with an extra long inseam of 35,” it’s been necessary for me to order jeans online at these two web sites that magically can accommodate my needs.  Knowing the fit of their jeans enables me to buy online, seldom requiring a return. 

Over the past 8 years, I have accumulated 12 pairs of jeans, most of which are in near perfect condition, none of which will travel the world with us.  In 2004, I lost 50 pounds.  My friends and family complained I was too thin (ah, love those words!)  

Over the years, I purposely gained back 8 pounds in an effort to stop their whining, now holding steady for the past 3 years.  Most of those jeans are a little tight, although I’ve continued to wear them.  They won’t go with us.  Tom and I both decided that not one uncomfortable item will go into our suitcases. Not one.  The 12 pairs of jeans are going into the “to be sold” pile.

Sunday morning, before the Vikings football game (way to go Vikings!), Tom and I tackled (no pun intended) his dresser drawers and walk-in closet.  Our goal was to complete the packing of his following:

  1. Clothes to wear on the four day road trip to Scottsdale
  2. Clothes to wear in Scottsdale, Arizona in November and part of December, during their cool but not cold season
  3. Clothes to wear for our eight day trip to Henderson, Nevada over Christmas for the very cool winter weather, as low as 35 degrees any morning.
  4. Clothes to be packed, all of which is already purchased for our first three years traveling the world.

It didn’t go quite as planned. Once we started emptying the drawers and going through his closet, for a few moments I felt a pang of being overwhelmed. Having gradually worked on my clothes over several months it was relatively stress free.  Tackling this job in one day was quite the task.  Stay calm, I reminded myself.  I stayed calm.  So did Tom.

We got in a groove, only interrupted by the football game, to have completed most of the above items.  By 4:30, we called it a day.  All we have left to do in regard to Tom’s clothing is to pack everything in the three large orange Antler suitcases, next weekend for sure.
Suffering with an old shoulder injury severely stressed recently from all this packing and lifting, I was relieved to be lazy, to spend the remainder of the evening with an ice pack on my shoulder.  In a few weeks, I’ll get my last Cortisone injection to begin the healing process having finished all of this packing for at least the next few months.

We flopped into our comfy chairs following a delightful dinner of grass fed jumbo meatballs, stuffed with buffalo mozzarella cheese, topped with homemade marinara sauce and Parmesan cheese, a side of fresh green beans and a Cobb salad, all of which was low carb, gluten free, grain free, starch free and sugar free.  
We’ll be done in 23 days when we move out of our home to stay with a friend until the 31st, Tom’s last day, the day we leave, the day we say goodbye and the day our new life begins.

CarSoup and security…I’ll take a bowl of that!…

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It may be going a little overboard!  For $34 at Amazon.com we purchased these three items putting my mind at ease.

Months ago, Tom and I easily came to the conclusion that owning a car in the US while traveling the world was both foolish and costly. As we’d mentioned in a recent post, it will be peculiar not to own a car which took us a few days to accept.  With only a few calculations, we knew it was the right decision.

Tom’s car, only two years old, still has a remaining balance on a loan. My car also has a loan, a small remaining balance after having bought out the lease a few years ago when offered an irresistible deal for a below market price, certification and an extended warranty. 

Our combined payments are $1048 a month. Add in the auto insurance at $152 a month (me, fender benders!), maintenance at $100 month (my warranty ran out), gas at $300 a month (estimated after retirement for both cars) for a monthly total of $1600.

Keeping a car in the US would have resulted in the continuation of most of these expenses with the $300 a month intended for gas instead going to the cost of storage. Ridiculous!  We had no difficulty making the decision to sell both cars. Most certainly, we can rent cars for considerably less than this amount anywhere we may be in the world

Selling my car in October presents a dilemma: I will be without a car for a few weeks at most.  I can manage by working out and grocery shopping when Tom is home after work and on the few remaining weekends.  

Most of my time these last weeks will be spent completing the packing, cleaning and organizing. Family and friends will visit me here for the next three and a half weeks, until we move to our friend’s home for the remaining week, October 24th to October 31st, our departure date.  We’ll be out of the way during the estate sale. 

Yesterday, I listed my car for the seven day free trial at CarSoup.  If it doesn’t sell in a week, I’ll re-list it committed to the minimum one month contract for $9.95.  What if it doesn’t sell?  

The Cadillac dealer from whom I purchased my car new, most likely will buy it. A few months ago, I’d received a letter from them, inquiring as to my interest in selling them my car. Their used car inventory was low.  Serendipity.  Of course, the price will be much lower than my possible private sale, but at that point, I’ll have no alternative.

Here’s my ad on CarSoup, in case you know of anyone that may be interested. Hopefully soon, gone, gone, gone.

As for Tom’s car, we’ve made a carefully analyzed decision to drive his 2010 SUV to Scottsdale, Arizona for our last 60 days in the US. With its great gas mileage, space for all of our luggage, navigation system and a great security system we’ll be at ease with our decision.  We’ll also drive the SUV to Henderson, Nevada for Christmas with family and friends, finally driving ourselves to the pier in San Diego, for our first cruise. 

We are offering our prospective buyer a good price (a person well known to us), to fly to San Diego and pick up the SUV at the pier, where we’ll have left it on January 3, 2013.  We’ll have financial matters completed prior to this time and have sent him a set of keys.  Easy peasy.  If anything falls through (we always have to have a Plan B), we’ll engage the same practice as for my car, sell the car to a dealer, taking the hit. Whoosh!  $1600 a month, gone!

My next auto related concern: all of our luggage in the back of Tom’s SUV while we make the leisurely four day drive from Minnesota to Arizona.  Our condo in Scottsdale won’t be available until November 4th.  We thought it would be great to take our time during Tom’s first four days of retirement having fun along the way.  A road trip is a great way to start our year’s long adventure!

So again, me worrying.  What if the SUV is vandalized or stolen and our bags, all six of them, are ripped off?  Of course, we’ll be insured. But suddenly, all of our worldly possessions would be gone. Everything. Nada. All of the hundreds  of hours spent researching and buying just the right clothing and products, for at least the first three years of our travels, gone. Scary!  What would we do?  

We’ve discussed this possibility.  We’d continue on to Scottsdale, clothes on our backs with 60 days to find and replace everything we would have lost. Stressful, yes. Frustrating, of course. Doable, yes.

A solution, although not a guarantee, was to amp up his SUV’s security. First, we tested the functionality of his factory installed car alarm.  Next, we made a conscious decision to only stay in motels whereby the SUV will be parked outside our room door.  Also, we’ll be signing up for OnStar for the 60 day period at $18.95 a month.  If the car is stolen, it can be tracked by GPS, immediately reporting to the police.  

With highly sensitive hearing and as a very light sleeper, I’ll sleep with the key fob in my hand (I’ve slept with the TV remote in my hand all night. Why not the fob?).  If I hear a sound, I’ll set off the alarm long before the car alarm goes off, hopefully scaring away a possible thief.  

We are subject to many variables in regard to our two vehicles over the next 90 days.  We have accepted these somewhat painstaking scenarios are part of the process in order to be able to eventually lounge in a lawn chair, overlooking the ocean, knowing this “vacation” may never have to end.  

I’ll tell you how that feels when it happens.

Bye, bye, musical memories…

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A few hours later the CDs were organized and ready to be sold at the upcoming estate sale. 

Having not moved in 26 years, it’s difficult for me to comprehend having everything in order in 20 days when the estate sale people arrive to start the process of sorting and pricing our belongings.  Ouch! Moving in the past seemed easier: pack, label and seal cardboard boxes, moving them to the next home, placing the boxes in the appropriate rooms to begin the process of unpacking. 

We’ve all experienced this at different times in our lives and although a stress laden experience, we all have managed our way through it to eventually unpack and put it away. The goal was to unpack neatly with the hope and expectation that the cupboards, drawers and closets would stay organized forever. Ha!

As I look around our house, decorative items still on the shelves, clothes still hanging in closets, pictures still on the walls, I see piles of boxes of photos and memorabilia ready to be mailed or dropped off to our grown children including boxes of special items to be distributed to the grandchildren as they mature; boxes of items to be sold at the sale and our never ending pile of luggage.  

Have I gone through every nook and cranny in this house, extricating the memorabilia or items that we may choose to take with us on our travels?  Our estate sale guy promises we’ll have one last time to peruse the items prior to the sale to ensure we haven’t missed a handmade treasure from our child’s or grandchild’s art class. That’s comforting.

In the past few days, I’ve removed every personal item from my car which is to be offered for sale next week on CarSoup where I had successfully and seamlessly sold my last car years ago, in a matter of a few days. 

In the process of cleaning my trunk, glove box and center console, I discovered no less than 15 music CDs most of which were installed in the multi-CD player.   Bringing them inside the house to sort and place them back into the cases, it dawned on me that I had yet to sort the 100+ music CDs we have accumulated in the house over the years.

As I handled each one, “memories flooded my mind” of disco dancing days, romantic dinners for two and quiet reflections to “new age” music so popular in the 80’s.  The thought of our magical Christmas’s, with music filling the air during our festive holiday celebrations, brought tears to my eyes. 

Ah, letting go of stuff, the process continues. One month and one day from today, it will all be gone.  What will remain? The memories. The memories. And the memories. 

X-Ray views of our travel jackets…

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It would be no exaggeration to say that I have spent no less than 20 hours searching online for travel jackets for both Tom and me.  Our goals were simple: functional, all weather, comfortable, affordable and attractive. 

After the first 10 hours, I threw “affordable” and possibly “attractive” out the window.  When buying coats and jackets for us over the years, I’ve always relished in the search for the $500 jacket on sale for $195, throwing a 20% coupon in the mix for a great jacket purchased for a grand total of $156. 
With no sales tax on clothing in Minnesota, we’d be thrilled with the total acquisition cost, wearing the jacket over several years.  As a good “laundress” I’d be able to wash and dry them each year in order for them to look like new for the following year.  

Tiring of our jacket years later, long before they’d wear out, we’d donate them pleased to know that the recipient could enjoy many more years of wear. On occasion, a treasured well-fitting, good looking jacket would remain in the closet for years to come. We struggled to let it go. Would we ever wear it again? Probably not. But the attachment remained.

In frigid Minnesota, one becomes particularly attracted to warm, comfortable, functional jackets that when donned, provide us with a feeling of who we really are, or in some cases, who we’d really like to be.  Funny how an article of clothing, an inanimate object, can do that.
When the search for jackets began months ago, I took it quite seriously.  Tom poo pooed jacket after jacket that I had sent to his inbox.  At night after work, as he’d peruse upwards of 100 email jokes that had filtered in throughout the day, he’d see a subject line from me, reading, “Honey, I found your jacket! Look at this one!”

My heart sank each time he shook his head saying, “Naw, not this one.”  After awhile, I gave up asking why he didn’t like my most recent find. His answer never brought me one step closer to finding what he would like.  

I suppose it’s not unlike falling in love we just do. It’s the way that wispy chunk of silky hair falls over their right eye, the flash of white teeth in a winsome smile, or the laugh, so frequent, so sincere, that makes us fall in love. Over time, the wisp of hair becomes dull and gray, the teeth yellowed but that laugh endures, and we stay in love. I speak from experience.

Finding him a jacket he’d love “matters” to me, as he “matters” to me. Patiently the search continued.  Somehow I felt that once I found a jacket for Tom, one for me would naturally follow.   
Early on in the search, I discovered Scottevest, a travel wear company dedicated to quality and function, offering jackets with “zillions” of hidden pockets.  This concept appealed to both of us, especially during the times we have no alternative but to fly. 

With multiple pockets suited to technological gear, there are hidden plackets for headsets, chargers and devices. Very interesting!
Tom didn’t like the “look” of the available lightweight options for him, although I was drawn to The Molly in black. From time to time I’d send him information about the Standard Jacket to no response. 

Signing up at the Scottevest website to receive daily email on discounted items, last month he reluctantly agreed to the Windbreaker. I purchased a size large for him in olive along with a size small for me in blue.  With the then 20% off discount, these unisex 17 pocket jackets would serve us well most of the time, at only $60 each.  

Folding inside themselves for easy packing was an appealing feature that unfortunately requires an engineering degree. At this point we haven’t taken the time to figure this out.  Other fish to fry.  
Thus remained the task of finding a slightly heavier jacket for those cool days at sea and chilly mornings in Africa on safari.

As the search continued off and on, often days in between, an email popped into my inbox last week, offering a number of jackets at 40% off. (If interested in this sale click this link which was extended until midnight tonight but doesn’t allow for returns. BTW, we have nothing to do with the promotion or marketing of this company or their products).

And wouldn’t you know, The Molly and the Standard Jacket were both included in the sale. At last, Tom relented, finally realizing that the look may not be perfect, but the function of this 20 pocket jacket would serve him well in many ways. I ordered black for both of us in each of our chosen styles.  

Fearful they wouldn’t fit, resulting in having to resell them on eBay, I anxiously awaited their arrival.  Two days later, the package arrived.  Tom, exhausted from work and distracted, didn’t try his on until Friday night when I did the same. His recent weight loss made the size consideration tricky as this was a more fitted jacket than the Windbreaker that we had previously purchased.

Alas!  We were both thrilled with the perfect fit in each of our jackets and at last, Tom seemed content with this decision, partially due to price, partly due to practicality, partly due to the 20 pockets and perhaps, a tiny piece, to end my relentless search freeing me to attend to other tasks, only one month and six days from departure.