Instead of getting a cold, I got a tan. Instead of losing my electricity, I lost golf balls. Instead of stoking the fire, I opened the balcony door to hear the waves. And, did I mention I’m not apologizing?
How many winters have we all said, “When I retire, I am NOT going to be this cold or shovel snow again?” Well, I got to live that fantasy.
Don’t get me wrong, I returned to Massachusetts (where we still have some remnants of snow drifts) last week, and I’m glad to be home. I love spring, summer and fall in New England, and even parts of winter. But, and I think I’ve mentioned this already, I am not apologizing for missing what was the worst (snow) winter in Massachusetts history.
Being a snowbird has its challenges, though none of them is shoveling through a five-foot snow drift to free your car only to find out the drift wasn't hiding your car but your neighbor's. The challenges are more like: what shall I do today, pool or golf? Or, why are all these old people surrounding me? We were the second youngest couple in the building of 40 or so condos we were in. Friends in the building would tell us “we’re going for our swim now,” and they’d get in the pool and gather in a circle resting on "floaties" chatting about condo politics, not swimming.
It does give you time, though, to think about growing older and what all that means – the good and the not as good.
There will be a couple more posts on being a snowbird. For now, though, the picture above is of a sunrise taken from the apartment we rented. Oh, and by the way, I am not apologizing.