~uprooted and transplanted~

Little by little, I have begun the process of settling into these early days of retirement. 

Daily I go to the mailbox and always manage to find an assortment of correspondence from people who seem to know that I have almost attained that magical age of 65.  On a regular basis I find things from Medicare and all the supplements that go with it, advertisements for dental/vision coverage, and even occasionally from some one who wants me to be sure that my final arrangements are taken care of before I die, not afterwards.

Little do they know, I'm already six steps ahead of them on that one.  My cremation plan was paid for 13 years ago.   My final resting stop, next to my sweet sister Sherry, is a place I visit as often as I can each time I go back home to Reno County.  All that my children need to do is to arrange for someone to put my cremains into my side of our neighborhood and etch my date of departure underneath my name on the stone.  

I'm glad I took care of that.
The brochure was right.  It does give peace of mind.

Part of the process of getting accustomed to a new direction in life has been to start focusing on things around our home here.  The front flower bed along the north side the house is flourishing and starting to come into its own.   I remember so well those two weeks in March when every single day we would dig up things from the east flower garden and transplant them into the front one.  I gave thanks every time I was able to dig up a small rose, columbine, daisy, peony, iris, day lily, or hydrangea. If I was able to get any of them to start on their own in new surroundings it would be so much money saved from having to purchase new ones at the store.  In the end, hopefully we would have a beautiful flower bed to show for our hard work. 

In a way, I kind of feel like I can identify with those flowers, for my life has been uprooted and transplanted just like theirs was.  Years and years and more years of knowing the routine of being a teacher is now being replaced with a new and very uncertain way of doing things.  Like the 8 tiny rose bushes that wilted with the shock of being moved to a new location, I too have found myself wilting once in a while as school things were put aside and even better things have begun to take their place. 

And if you are wondering, I am still doing ok!

I can't help but think there is a great plan waiting for me out there.  I have only retired from full-time teaching, not from life and the living of it.  I would enjoy being a substitute and helping out in Kay County schools, but the virus is in control of how next year plays out.  There are several opportunities for part-time positions that I can pursue that are away from the school setting as well and one of them I am giving some serious thought and prayers to.  All kinds of things float around in my thinking as I wonder which path I will take. 

As I wait for my universe to realign itself, the Master's already thought of plan is unfolding right before my very eyes.  I'll be watching.

This was one of the rose bushes that I was most concerned about in the days that followed its uprooting.  The leaves had withered down and some had even yellowed and fallen off.  I kept a watch over it and fed it a steady diet of banana peels and coffee grounds.  It survived and is thriving quite nicely.  You can't see from the picture, but it is getting ready for its first two tiny buds to open up.  

7 years ago I was uprooted from my Kansas heritage and transplanted into the mountains of southwestern Colorado.  Since then we have lived in Burkburnett, Texas from 2015-2019 and now have settled for good in Kay County, Oklahoma.  Mike and I have written our names in the soil of Newkirk, Oklahoma.  We are quite happy in our life here!