Settling in

Say these lines to yourself with a Southern accent:
"Hello, this is Mr. Mallard -- like the duck."
"Isn't this top cute?"  "Yes, mama, and it covers your butt!"
"Now, step back into Down Dawg."

Yes, we are enjoying the accents and especially the rhythms

of retirement in North Carolina following the flurry of activity with our family visitors for Christmas.  My sisters helped me move boxes and re-organize stuff for storage. We assembled the traditional pop-up tree, which is sort of like putting a hula skirt on a flagpole,

made a special Christmas dinner, visited Atlantic Beach and Fort Macon,

met our friends Mark and Chris for lunch at Spouter's in Beaufort,

celebrated New Year's Eve at Captain Ratty's (a spectacular wine-pairing dinner with wine wunderkind Wes)

and toured the inside of Tryon Palace (bedecked with holiday greenery that was starting to look a little dried out--next year, we'll be able to take the "candlelight" tour at the beginning of December) for the first time. The whole family went to inspect an 18-foot, red and white Sea Ray being sold by a young Marine -- looks like it might be a good boat for us, but we don't want to be too hasty.  Although the Goldbergs -- members of the Scioto Boat Club in Columbus, Gerry being a former Commodore there -- did give us a boat hook to encourage our rapid assimilation into the nautical world, here. The above Mr. Mallard, in fact, is a boat dealer who's allegedly on the lookout for a potential "Croatan Queen" for us, modern-day Rose Sayer and Charlie Allnut that we'll no doubt become.

"Now that I've had a taste of it I don't wonder why you love boating," as Rose says to Charlie....

There's tons of home maintenance to attend to, of course. Our guest room had no heat the first night of my sister and brother-in-law's use of it, but that got fixed rapidly, thanks to the excellent Gilbert. A leak in the kitchen sink apparatus seemed to fix itself. (Hmmm.....) The yard is looking a little bare after some problem-tree and shrub removal recommeded by a landscape designer (from New Jersey!) we're working with. Our garden looks good, but in this season, all we're doing is adding compost to it. We have to contend with finding a way to dispose of some really, really noxious chemicals the previous owner left in our garage, and we have lots of stuff to transport to Goodwill and The Restore.  But we'll get to that -- and to getting our driver's licenses and so forth -- soon enough. We have joined Sound Fitness, and already had a few workouts -- the yoga class was where I heard the charming "Down Dawg" phrase.

Speakin' of dawgs, Maggie the cat has adapted to her new house, knowing by some feral instinct what rooms will have the sunniest spot at different hours throughout the day.  She's been outside on her leash several times.

Right now, I'm sitting by the fire with the cat snugged up on the couch nearby.  Tim and I had veggie pasta for dinner --

(our kitchen is pretty organized now that we fixed a broken shelf, but don't ask about the clothes closet situation!) -- a good meal for a chilly night.  Our friends Mark and Chris high-tailed it to Florida today, earlier than planned, because they couldn't take the "cold." I don't mind this weather at all. Though there's ice in the early morning on the opposite bank of Brices Creek, there's no snow, no black ice on the roads, no scraping off of cars in the dark, no white-knuckle white-out drives on the Mass Pike. Just sunshine and the wind in the Spanish moss. 

We are still rather astonished by our retired state -- it does feel almost too good to be true. For over 20 years, even on vacations, we'd be talking and worrying about work. I remember proofreading Focus on the Cape; Tim answered urgent cell phone calls on hiking up a mountainside in New Mexico. For most of my life the tick-tick-tick of the "60 Minutes" clock on TV on Sunday nights was the bleak signal that on Monday I'd be back in harness at school or work after the too-brief frolic in weekend pastures. But now, there's this feeling that each day belongs to me, rather than vice versa.  (I hope that doesn't have echoes of the ominous Third Reich song "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" from Cabaret....)

There's a bunch of stuff we look forward to doing in Historic New Bern. 

There's a foreign film series at the community college, a book discussion series at the library (focusing on authors who grew beyond their Southern small town roots), a training session for volunteers in an adult literacy program, lots of lectures and classes on the Civil War -- er, the War of Northern Aggression -- themes, an antiques show, folk music at a downtown coffeehouse, and a concert by Livingston Taylor at the civic center at the end of the month -- and a 13-week golf fitness program guaranteed to add yards on your drive!  Other highlights: Tim reunites with The Boys at the NCAA convention in Atlanta, and an upcoming visit from "Big Dog" and Gail.

So far, we feel content, fortunate, appreciative. Hallelujah and amen.