Dave's taken over almost all of the household duties. I was always the cook in the family, but now Dave starts dinner if I leave him step-by-step instructions. If there's so much as one dirty sock in the laundry basket, it will be washed, dried, matched up with its partner and put away by the time I get home. It's like magic.
He pretty much does all the grocery shopping too. He won't admit it, but I think he secretly loves shopping. He makes regular trips to Rochester when we're low on anything. I mean, anything. Like water softener salt, beef jerky or Twizzlers. Since a trip to Rochester is 50 miles round trip, the Twizzlers have become an expensive item. But I gotta give the guy a break. It's his only vice. That and watching Fox News, but that's another story. Don't get me started.
His joy though is being with the grandbabies. He'll never turn down an opportunity to be grandpa-nanny.
So far, his retirement hasn't been a bad gig for him or for me. People ask him if he gets bored. He says no and so far hasn't been looking to start a new hobby.
I, however, have a lot more time on my hands. After binge watching My 600 Pound Life and Intervention for Dave's first two weeks of retirement, I decided I needed the hobby.
I used to draw. In college I majored in journalism and minored in graphic arts. By my junior year, I had a good start on developing my art portfolio. After spring semester that year, I left for California with the intent to return to Indiana in the fall. I put my things in storage at the school, all except for my art portfolio. I asked a friend to keep the art for me until I returned. Not that the art was so great, but I had put my heart and soul into it. It meant a lot to me. She promised me she'd guard it with her life.
When the summer was up, I decided to stay in California. I flew home to Minnesota, and my mom and I made the drive to Indiana to retrieve my things. The stuff I had put in storage in the basement of Martin Hall was still there. The friend with whom I left my art portfolio was not. Rumor had it that she joined a cult over the summer. I never saw her or my art work again.
The circumstances of my leaving college were painful. For a long time I had this melancholy feeling every fall when colleges started back up. I felt like I should be there. I had intended to finish college in California, but life took over. I started working, got married, had children, and put school and art on the back burner.
After a number of years, the desire to go back to school left. I had a job I liked and didn't know what I'd rather be doing. I don't regret not having a degree but I have always had a profound sadness about losing my art work.
Knowing this, Amber encouraged me to start painting again. She asked me to do a painting for her to hang up in their house. The idea of painting is intimidating. It's been so long, I literally don't remember how. I need to learn to draw again before I attempt a painting.
After a 34-year hiatus, I'm drawing again. I'm rusty. So far I've just been doing simple pencil sketches. My first attempts haven't been great, but that's okay. To become good at anything takes time and practice. I've got the time.
Meanwhile, I've been trying to track down the chick who took off with my art work. She probably threw it away, but you never know. Maybe it's stowed away in an attic somewhere. If I ever find her though, I'm going to throttle her.
