This blog is written by Lee Gale Gruen to help Baby Boomers, seniors, and those soon to retire find joy, excitement, and satisfaction in life after retirement. Her public lectures on this subject are titled, “Reinventing Yourself in Your Retirement.” Her memoir, available at Amazon.com, is: Adventures with Dad: A Father and Daughter’s Journey Through a Senior Acting Class. Click here for her website: http://AdventuresWithDadTheBook.com
Now, on to my blog:
This is a continuation of my previous blog about moving from my house of forty-five years:
The moving van left an hour ago carrying the majority of my possessions—so significant to me yet filling only a third of the huge transport. One last surreal glance back at the old house which sheltered me for almost half a century before I, too, leave.
I’m driving up the interstate next to tomato trucks, their trailers piled high with the red fruit. I pass them as I hurry on to my new life. A short time later, they pass me parked on the shoulder eating my lunch. They’re like old friends, marking my progress.
Hung out for a while with an army convoy until they peeled off. Thank you guys for guarding me on this trip and in general.
Passed an industrial farm of thousands of cows crammed together with very little personal space. Makes me want to become a vegetarian.
Moseyed alongside hundreds of orange trees on the right and an equal number of almond trees on the left. Farmers had posted signs every few miles on the sides of abandoned trucks reminders such as: “No water, No jobs,” as though their concern for their low-paid workers was their only reason for being. The desert landscape abuts the orchards—not an environment meant for thirsty, cultivated trees.
I spot in the rear view mirror my two-foot high philodendron, leaves swaying gently with the motion of the road, waiting to be installed in its new home, too. Yes, I can buy a new one when I arrive, but I wanted something alive from my old life with me. It’s comforting.
A friend gave me a toy rooster as a gift last year. Each time anything moves near it, it crows three times making me want to strangle it. She insisted I place it next to my front door to warn me if anybody breaks in during the night. The rooster is ensconced in a box in the back of my car. Every time I go over a bump, it segues into crowing mode. That, too, is comforting—reminds me of home.
Snippets of the California aqueduct pass by, flowing liquid surrounded by an arid land. I come upon large mounds of dirt with giant, erector set machinery crawling over them, mining something undisclosed to passing drivers.
Around the next turn, a windmill farm appears upon a hill, three-leaf clover blades churning out renewable energy which flows through huge cables held up by giant electrical towers nearby—environmentally friendly power for a city. Diametrically opposed to the same long line of electrical towers a few cities back holding up their non-renewable energy powered cables—a contrast of changing times.
My anticipation is growing. I’m almost there. Excitement and apprehension.
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