Fit to Retire

Approximately 2 years ago, as I was bemoaning the effects of growing older to my daughter, she told me of a lady she had recently seen on a television talk show named Marjorie Newlin. At the age of 72 she was having difficulty lifting 50# bags of kitty litter without help. Being a feisty and independent type of gal, Marjorie decided to work on getting stronger.  Read her story at the link below.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/phillykevflicks/2239213791/

Well, I decided that if this spunky little lady could do all that, then I , being considerably younger, should be able to improve my physical strength as well.

Let me just say that I am no Marjorie Newlin. However, I realize that what prompted Marjorie should prompt many of the rest of us as well. In the nursing profession we are constantly faced with the effects of loss of strength and vitality in our patients. One of the most devastating accidents for the elderly is a fall resulting in broken bones, and most notably, hip fractures. Sadly, we often take it for granted that this is just one of the 'side effects' of aging. As I researched articles about senior citizens and weight training I came to realize that the lack of strength plays a major role in debilitating falls. When our muscles are strong, our skeletal system has the support it needs to keep us on our feet, so to speak. It made sense to me.

So... I now have a set of dumbells and a treadmill in my back room. I still am not a Marjorie Newlin, but I am a stronger me than I was 2 years ago. Carrying in the groceries is easier, doing my job is easier and I have fewer aches and pains than before. I have increased energy and a more positive outlook on life. I am beginning to feel like I may, after all, have the vitality to enjoy my retirement when the time comes.

Having said all that, let me say this. Embarking on a weight training and fitness program is a great idea, but each program must be individualized to avoid injury. I initially joined a fitness club and even invested in the coaching of a personal trainer for a few sessions. In doing this, I learned proper technique and how often to work out as well as becoming familiar with which muscles were being worked. I found it well worth the money, as I have to confess total ignorance at the beginning.

If you decide to try a similar path to fitness, I suggest that you do your research and find someone who knows to help you learn the correct way to do it. Then just persevere. And remember, fitness is not about how you look. It's about being strong, healthy and full of vitality. The bonus is that the benefits are exponential!

Count Down to Retirement

I've noticed an interesting phenomenon as I grow older. The things that once held great importance for me are taking 2nd place to things much more pressing. Career aspirations have given way to spending more time with family and friends. Material items are losing importance and being replaced by things more worthy of time and energy.

I've noticed that the days fly by, but the nights grow long. My step is a bit slower and the joints occasionally ache. The recliner is becoming a fast friend, and a good book a welcome companion. Things that once were taken for granted are now receiving the appreciation they deserve, such as health, strength, comfortable accommodations, electric blankets and warm fuzzy slippers.

As I look ahead, I relish the idea of being retired. It will be a time of doing what I want, free from the restraints of a work schedule. I'm fortunate to have many interests and hobbies, so I really can't see retirement as a time of boredom or inactivity. I intend to enjoy my retirement to the fullest. But in order to do that, I must have a certain level of health, strength and energy.

I thank God that I am a healthy individual. It helps me continue my work as a nurse, and to do the things I enjoy. But I realize that if I am to enjoy my 'golden years' I need to do a few things to keep myself strong and healthy. I also need to be proactive about exercising my mind to keep it clear and sharp.

In my next few posts I will be sharing some of the things I believe will help me be in a position to enjoy my retirement. I will also be sharing some tips from some of my favorite 'old folks' on how they handle their retirement.

So, if this topic interests you, visit again next week. Until then......

Be Blessed!
Reny

The Demise of My Garden...the rest of the story

My square foot gardening adventure started with a book and a vision during the winter of 2009/2010. I drew a plan for 4 boxes and made my list of needed supplies; wood for the boxes, several bales of peat moss, several large bags of vermiculite, multiple varieties of compost and weed barrier for the bottom of the boxes. I also purchased skinny pvc pipe and netting to make a frame and cover for the boxes as the plants grew to keep out pests. The book also suggested building a trellis out of electrical conduit pipe and twine to support the beautiful tomato plants that I dreamed I would have, heavy with juicy, red fruit.

With the supplies at hand, I set myself to the task of constructing my garden. I enlisted the aid of my son to cut the boards to the appropriate lengths. I then built my boxes using long deck screws to hold them together. I have to confess that I felt rather proud and empowered to have put the boxes together by myself. I do love using the few simple power tools that I own and can totally relate to how guys feel about them now.

After constructing the boxes, I put my weed barrier under them and proceeded to mix my soil, called 'Mel's mix' in the book. This is a mixture of the peat moss, vermiculite and compost that is combined in the prescribed amounts and then shoveled into the boxes to a depth of about 8 inches.

Next I measured off 1 foot sections and formed my square foot grids. This would be my guide for planting. The book even offers a chart that tells how many plants of any given vegetable will grow well within a square foot section. The pictures in the book showed a lovely variety of vegetables and flowers in each box, and I arranged my boxes accordingly. After all, variety is the spice of life, right?

Now to wait and watch this fabulous garden grow. And grow it did! Beautiful, thick luscious foliage soon burst forth with blossoms and the promise of some yummy fruit in the near future. My mouth would water just thinking of the fresh, organic salads and other veggies we would soon be eating.

The netting proved to be an annoyance every time I wanted to pull a weed or pluck a lettuce leaf, so I removed after awhile thinking that I probably didn't need it since I had seen no garden predators since things had begun to grow. But getting the garden watered as often as I should have was a bit of a problem. Working the 12 hour night shift didn't leave much time to tend to the garden, so unless it rained, the garden often had to go for 3-4 days at a time without water. Still, it began to produce some tomatoes, cabbages and cucumbers as well as a few sweet zinnias to add color and aesthetics.

And then it happened. Slowly at first, and gradually picking up speed. I would visit my garden, (which was within a few steps of my patio) and find that something had feasted on my plants, or eaten whatever was within reach. Cabbages were chewed up. Half eaten tomatoes hung from the vines and cucumbers were disappearing. My carrot bed and onions were flattened from the weight of whatever critter was feasting on my garden.

Not to be outwitted by 'whatever it was', I sprung into action and made my way to Menards. Fence posts and chicken wire. Yeah! That should do the trick. By now we had determined that the pest was a groundhog that lived under the abandoned house next door. Well, groundhogs dig, so I also bought tent stakes to secure the chicken wire firmly to the ground in the hope that he would give up if it became too difficult to get into the garden.

Well, it took him a few days, but he found a loose place in the fence and made his way inside only to be surprised by my darling husband one day coming home from work. The poor groundhog was so terrified at having been discovered that he forgot which way he got into the garden and tried to get out by going through the fence! In a panic, he did finally find his way out, but left several imprints of his head in the chicken wire. LOL! "That'll teach him", I thought. I patched the hole he got in through and for a week or so things were good. Garden was growing, and no groundhog.

About that time we discovered that there were actually two groundhogs. And they found a way to get back into the garden. An internet search offered several possible ways to discourage them from our garden, many of which we tried. Fake birds, aluminum pie plates on twine blowing around, a colorful beach ball bouncing on the end of a string. Even wind chimes attached to each garden frame that would jingle whenever the animal disturbed anything in the garden. We even had a radio playing in the garden for awhile, but soon realized that the batteries would bankrupt us if we kept that going all the time.

By now 'Dawson' (yep, we gave him a name) had burrowed under the fence and was dining daily on some of the finest produce I have ever grown. It became quite apparent that the only way we were going to get to eat any of our garden produce would be if we followed the food chain and ate the groundhog. But being nature lovers and having an affinity for cute little furry animals, that was not an option. We also had friends who offered to trap Dawson (and his friends) and relocate them to another place. However, we decided that Dawson had earned the right to stay by virtue of the comic relief he had provided in spite of the frustration of losing the entire garden to his voracious appetite.

Meanwhile, my sons both planted gardens as well. And they had beautiful gardens that had no pests. Their gardens yielded such an abundance of produce that my hubby and I had all we could eat plus some to can and freeze.

Hey, I know when I'm beat. And I know a good deal when I see one too. Next year I'm donating all my gardening energy to my son's gardens in return for a share of the booty. And if Dawson finds his way to their gardens, well, they can deal with him however they please.

Just don't tell me about it.

Blessings!