Back to work . . . sort of

My official retirement date last year was December 1st, meaning that is when I ceased to be an employee of my former employer and they stopped paying me every other Friday. Per my severance agreement, a final payout would follow in early 2026, but I was officially retired December 1st. 

I stopped working, however, October 29th. So, I am coming up on one year, which is hard to believe. 

I had some concerns about retirement. I know myself, and I know I need a routine. And I know I need things to do. 

With that in mind, I signed up for some volunteer gigs. One of those was temporary, which involved helping an organization for which I was a former board member and board chair find and hire a new CEO. 

That one took up a fair amount of time for about six months and has now ended. I have plenty going on, and I'm pleased to say I am never bored. As long as there is something to read or something to write about, when I have a little bit of down time, I am in good shape. 

With the CEO search committee commitment ending, I had some freed-up time. I have kept my eyes open for something worthwhile to fill a little more time. 

Years ago, when we got new windows on our house, the company sold them to us asked if I would post a review. (This was in return for supposedly giving us some type of deal. Whatever.) I told them I was not on any type of social media, so they told me I could post it on Next Door, which is a neighborhood website that apparently is widely used and read in neighborhoods like ours. 

I posted the review and in so doing, apparently "subscribed" to Next Door. While I don't routinely visit their site, I get emails from them and at times there is just enough of a hook in the subject line to pique my curiosity, so I end up briefly scrolling through the site. 

I have found some good information there, including a couple of home maintenance companies that I've used a handful of times. 

A big part of the site, however, pertains to animals, whether wild or domesticated. A lot of people post pictures of snakes, asking their neighbors to tell them what kind it is. People also like to post something their night camera caught, like skunks and racoons. 

On the domesticated front, there are the occasional lost dogs and cats. Also, a person sometimes wants to "rehome" their pet. And this is when the crazies come out. 

Someone says he/she needs to find a new home for his/her pet, and inevitably, that person is attacked by people telling them they should have never gotten a dog in the first place if they couldn't take care of it. These self-righteous ones say they treat their pets like members of the family and would never "re-home" one. 

All this without knowing anything about the person's circumstances or lot in life. And honestly, I read some of that for the entertainment value because it's so absurd. 

All of the aforementioned is a digression from what I intended to write about, but I suppose it's important for context, so you know why I occasionally peruse the Next Door site. 

Getting to the point (finally), I have taken on a part-time job courtesy of Next Door. A few weeks ago, I saw a post from a business saying they were hiring drivers. They are a private chef company, meaning they make meals for people to order weekly and have delivered to their door. In summary, I sent them a message via the site. They responded and asked me to come talk to them. I was hired onsite. 

And as of a couple weeks ago, I am a driver for this company on Monday afternoons, which is when customers' meals are delivered for the week. I am paid a flat amount that covers my time and my mileage. The first week I made 12 deliveries and this week I made 15. 

I might add that I can also theoretically get tips, but so far that has amounted to a walloping ten dollars. I suspect the patrons of this company believe they pay enough already. I would probably feel the same. 

I told Wife if it were the least bit stressful, I would not do it. I have not completely kept that commitment because the first week there was some stress involved as I tried to simultaneously manage the routing app, the email I had received with my list of customers and a text with templates to use for confirmation texts I am required to send to each customer once dropoff is made, along with a photo of what I just delivered. 

Meals are left either at customers' doors, in a cooler left on the front porch or a garage refrigerator to which I am given access. 

Between Week 1 and Week 2, I came up with some good shortcuts to maneuver all of it, and Week 2 went much more smoothly. Week 1 took me three hours. Week 2 took me two hours and fifty minutes. The efficiencies I came up with worked, in that I cut ten minutes off my time with three added deliveries from Week 1 to Week 2. 

The only stress in Week 2 occurred when I started to leave a home that was at the bottom of a steep driveway and family members all watched as I wound my way back up the hill, and a sweet but overly aggressive dog that wanted me to play with him. 

I have a support person to call or text with any complications which so far have been nothing more than a couple of coolers that were not big enough for the meals I was delivering. I did not report the dog, because he was not a problem for me. If, however, I deliver to that house again next week and have the same experience, I probably will, not because the dog bothers me, but because if another delivery person goes to that house, especially a person of slighter build, it could be a problem. 

All in all, so far, so good with my new part-time job. It's fun seeing different parts of the city and I have managed, for the most part, to reduce any associated stress. Not a bad way to spend a Monday afternoon. 

... and Wendell

The tributes have poured in for Wendell Berry, who recently passed away at age 92. He was described as a novelist, poet, essayist, farmer and environmental activist. 

I had figured out Mr. Berry lived only a few hours' drive from me, in Port Royal, Kentucky, and it had been my goal (fantasy?) to meet him, and drink iced tea on his front porch while he pontificated. 

I have read some of his non-fiction and poetry, and I have read all of his fiction except his most recent, Marce Catlett, his final volume in the Port William series, published last year. It's near the top of my TBR. 

For those who have not read Berry, I will give you my standard recommendation. Start with Jayber Crow, then move on to any in the Port William series. Although I am usually a stickler for reading series books in order, for this one I relax that rule. The characters are so rich and the narrative so sweet that chronology can be set aside. 

As it turns out, Jayber Crow is the pick for our book club in September, and we will be discussing it next Tuesday. I rarely re-read, but I am reading Jayber again, since it's been quite a few years since I first read it and I want to fully participate in the discussion. 

RIP Dolly

I have a feeling many of us will remember where we were when we heard Dolly Parton had died. 

I was sitting at my desk in what was once my home office (when I was working) and is still a place I often hang out during the day when I am reading or writing. 

I received an alert on my phone from one of my news sources, telling me Dolly had died. I could not believe it. Had I not just seen her on TV a few days ago? 

Because I live in suburban Nashville, I immediately turned on the TV to a local station. Grim-faced newscasters were conveying the news and already looking back on Dolly's life. 

Dolly's house is about a half-dozen miles from mine in the suburban town of Brentwood. She was seldom spotted in public (other than her official appearances), but Wife and my three children swear they saw her 25-ish years ago in a Blockbuster Video store. I was not there, so I can neither confirm nor deny it, and I suppose they would have had no reason to make it up. 

I never saw her perform and never saw her at any type of appearance she made. But like just about everyone, I liked Dolly. I thought she was funny, genuine and smart, and I loved that she lived nearby, at least part of the time. I think she spent a fair amount of time near the theme park she built, "Dollywood," in the Tennessee hills where she grew up. 

There is speculation about what will happen with her home here. Although it sits on five acres, back from the road a bit, it is still in a residential area, and I can't see it being made into a museum like Graceland (Elvis Pressley's home) in Memphis. I am sure neighbors in that area would not be pleased to have a tourist attraction right around the corner, and I'm guessing some zoning laws would have to be changed to even permit it. 

All that will be worked out in time. For now, we simply remember Dolly with a smile.