BLOG # 14: Moving On . . .

BLOG # 14: Moving On

Where to start?

I can’t believe that I’ve had so much trouble starting and completing this final blog. Unlike the late Issac Asimov (who, once he’d perfected his craft, didn’t do more than one edit and never a major edit), I seem to have digitally torn up, tossed, and re-started this last blog several times.
But, here I am. Thanks for sticking with me.

Twelve months have passed since I left SAIT, and here I am writing my last A-Year-In-The-Life-Of blog about my transition from full-time work to retirement.

June 21, 2018: Last day of full-time work at SAIT and that day I had or gave more hugs than I ever normally give or receive in a year. (Remember, I’m an introvert and we tend not to be huggers.) That June 21 was hot and sunny.

June 21, 2019: This day marks the first anniversary of my retirement journey. This June 21 was cold and rainy.  However, this June 21  also happily marks my friend Janeen’s retirement and her retirement party.  Like many of life’s landmark events, my similar-aged friends and colleagues are now transitioning to some sort of retirement.

I’ve learnt so much in the past 12 months: about the process of blogging, about writing for blogs, about the transition to retirement, about myself. So, it seems fitting that I wrap up with a  selected summary of the year’s learnings.

Do you remember that fabulous Australian movie The Man from Snowy River based on the famous poem by Banjo Paterson?  Do you remember that slow-motion scene where our drop-dead gorgeous hero and his equally good-looking yellow dun horse jump over the cliff?

 Source: www.bing.com/images

No?

Then watch this YouTube clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jo51fIu_fjk.

If you don’t want to watch the entire recitation of the poem, then the clip you want is between 2:37 and 3:17 minutes. That scene captures what the leap into retirement has been for me (minus the inspirational music, naturally). Fortunately, (if we continue the metaphor), hero and horse safely make it down the cliff and successfully complete their task – which you will see if you watch the entire clip.

By the way, prior to this movie, our hero was a novice horseman, he did his own stunt work, and the leaping-off-a-cliff scene was shot in one take.

Retirement Preparation:

What I’ve learnt is that it is not enough to put money away and build up pensions and investments. Important, yes; absolutely yes, . . .  but it’s not enough.

Serious consideration has to be given to what one is going to “do” for 20 or 25 years and that what one does in those years might be different about every five years.

There are stages to retirement just as there are stages in career building, and what I am developing a better understanding of is that one must give serious consideration to what one’s retirement will look like when one is fit, active, still has one’s partner, grandchildren are arriving (…whatever the big events are in your life). Then there’s the transition to slowing down and possibly ill health.  And then there are those final few years when the things you enjoy now might no longer be possible.

Tied in with my thoughts on retirement preparation is one of those "worms" of an idea that keeps creeping around in my thoughts. Half formed and currently not well organized, but . . . I’m beginning to think that my career-related knowledge, skills, experience, and qualifications are absolutely bloody useless.

Yup. That’s what I said. Absolutely bloody useless.

Ummmm, . . . well,  perhaps with the possible exception of my horse-related qualifications. Horse-related “stuff” had been my vocation for many years and has been my avocation for some sixty-odd years, and my current volunteering with a therapeutic riding centre makes good use of the knowledge, experience, and skills 60 years in the making.

Okay, okay. Let’s return to my comment about workplace skills being useless. Yes, I know that without all the workplace experience I’d built up, all the committee work, all the special project work, all the professional development, all the conference attendance and presentations, and all the various "official" pieces of paper . . .  I wouldn’t have had the interesting career I’ve had, and I wouldn’t have had the same access to a decent salary, benefits, and a pension.

But . . .  NOT ONE SINGLE THING connected to the doings of my career, nothing I did or didn’t do, has one whit of influence on my “career” as a retiree. Which is a little alarming, or a little confusing, or a little amusing, and/or a little comforting depending on my mood and the day and my interpretation of my musings.

Now, even as I write this provocative declaration, I do realize that my fuzzy ideas are wide open to misinterpretation (even by me) . . . but give it some thought and let me know if you (if you are already retired) use your workplace-related skills and/or qualifications in retirement, and give it some thought and let me know if you (assuming you are still gainfully employed) can anticipate using your workplace-related skills when you transition to retirement.

Government Forms:

You may recall my traumatic events with form filling for my LAPP pension and my CPP/OAS pension applications. I'm not anticipating more trips to the Harry Hays building in my future, and I don’t expect any more tears of frustration and an exercise of my vocabulary. Yet, the pension-related paperwork never seems to end because further paperwork is required by the CPP folks to prove that David is my spouse and prove his age (even though we’ve already provided the appropriate paperwork). I have temporarily put this paperwork aside as I just can’t stand the thought of trying to tackle it.

This graphic popped up on Facebook recently. Seems appropriate.

Source: Facebook, June 19, 2019

In the meantime, I’m starting on the British pension. Please don’t get me started on the trials and tribulations of British pensions . . . sufficient to say that successive British governments have successfully screwed up the whole pension system and especially for women and even more especially for women in my age group. There are many groups lobbying the government of the day.  Understandably, the government of the day is engaged in figuring out what to do about Brexit and has little patience for the concerns of women and their pensions. There may yet be a court case at the Hague, but I could be pushing up the daisies long before that all gets sorted out.

In the meantime, I got my first answer for a request for more information . . . although I don’t know why government personnel can’t fully answer questions and so now a second letter is required to sort out one more piece of my pension, and then (and only then) can I actually process the application form.

It’s a good job I’m not depending on this pension for my financial survival.

Learnings and advice? Perhaps be a guy . . . maybe that makes picking up one’s pension easier.

Rabbit Holes and Miscellaneous Stuff:

Estevan: Twelve months ago, I took off for Estevan, Saskatchewan, the day after I retired. This year, I was back in Estevan to help Joyce celebrate her 40^th (ruby) wedding anniversary. The rabbit holes are around the side trips, the stop in Moose Jaw, and the odd and interesting things I saw on the trip. (Did you know Moose Jaw has a huge statue of a moose? Not what you’d expect either. Not a big male moose with an impressive rack of antlers. Nope. The moose is a female moose.)

Wardrobe: Well, believe it or not, it’s still something of an issue. Barb gifted me with the term “elevated casual" which means a level of sartorial consideration beyond pressing one’s jeans . . . and I’m still figuring it out . . . and I’m still looking for a denim dress . . .  and I’m still completely stunned that my retirement wardrobe is occupying so much of my energy.

What am I missing about work? Not much, to be honest. To be fair, I do miss my colleagues, and I do miss the interesting projects, but I don’t miss the politics of work. And while the first eight months of retirement were very rocky, I think I have found some peace with my new “career” as a retiree.

I was downtown this week meeting a former SAIT colleague for breakfast as she was in town for a conference. As we talked about her current work and her future career plans, I felt no losses and no overwhelming longing to be back in education. As the conference goers got ready for the plenary speaker, I watched them beetling around and felt no pull, no longing, no loss. Am I cured? Have I got working out of my system? Not sure, and I say that because  I have an idea that I’m still not yet done with teaching or curriculum projects. Ask me in five years’ time.

Blogging: I have learnt sooooo much about blogging. I had thought of setting up a horse-related blog for post-middle-aged gals with the idea that this blog could generate some money for me (even if it were only $5.00/year). The level of research required for the postings, sticking to a calendar and posting at set times, maintaining a high quality of writing have caused me to re-think the direction of my blogging energies. Actually, I know I can manage the research, project management, and writing . . . but what has turned me away from the idea is managing the negatively of some readers. I have recently removed myself from some horse-related groups because of the crude, rude, unkind, unhelpful, and/or vitriolic comments by some readers. I plain and simply just don’t need that negativity in my life. So, the horse-related blog has been shelved . . . but I’m pretty sure that I’m not done entirely with blogging. With my new interest in cell phone photography, perhaps there’s a blog in the making called The Happy Snapper for techno-adverse photographers like me. Perhaps this is one of those blinding flashes of the obvious to which I need pay attention.

The “What’s My Value?” question continues to plague me (and I expect it always will), but I may, in part, have addressed this through the volunteer work I’m now doing with a therapeutic riding group. I have been reflecting on the comment of one very disabled young man who needs four helpers. He said, “It’s good to be back on a horse.” Well, it’s always good to be on a horse . . . but for this young man, the team (which includes the horse himself) made the difference to his riding or not riding. Hard to walk away from a comment like that . . . and I clearly see my value in this volunteer work. And, heaven help me, . . . now I’m thinking about looking into studying to be a therapeutic riding instructor and/or an equine-assisted-learning facilitator. I guess I really am a life-long learner! But, I’m only “thinking” about it!

As things are wont to do, this graphic popped up on Facebook recently. It, too, seems appropriate. 

Source: Facebook, June 20, 2019

What’s Next?

Estevan: Forty year cycles seem to feature prominently for me right now. The trips to Estevan being one example..

Trail Riding: A proposed trail ride up to the Plain of Six Glaciers Tea House (aka the Little Tea House) is another example. Forty years ago, friend Linda and I did this ride. Of course, I was 40 years slimmer and 40 years fitter. I’m currently “thinking” about working on getting into suitable riding shape to tackle this ride again this summer.  Have a look at the ride here: https://www.travelyesplease.com/travel-blog-plain-of-six-glaciers-tea-house-ride/
By the way: I absolutely do NOT recommend this trip for folks who have never (or barely) been on a horse and who don’t know how to ride. You are a liability to the horse, to the other riders, and to yourself!

Change: Change is disruptive . . . even when one is controlling the change oneself. Our horses are moving to new digs at the end of the month. Finding new equine accommodation is as stressful as finding a new day home/daycare for your little ones or finding good elder care for your senior family members. But, I’ve broken the move down into project-like pieces (minus the Gantt Chart) and I’m sure by the time the dust settled on the move, I’ll be just fine with the new digs and the new opportunities that come with the new digs.

Crochet Work: My daughter Heather (who is a great knitter) expressed an interest in learning to crochet. She’s a self-taught knitter (yeah, YouTube), and she’s well on her way to being a self-taught crochet craftswoman (YouTube again), and somehow I’ve been talked into taking a crotcheting course! Do I really need to learn this particular fibre art? Nope, but I’m always open to learning new things.

Cell Phone Photography: I have several friends (and my daughter) who are talented photographers. Naturally, I pay most attention to their images of cats and horses, but I try not to be biased and look at all their postings with the same level of enthusiasm and appreciation. They have (to me) complicated equipment and enviable skills and equipment. But . . . I truly am a “happy snapper” when it comes to photography. Even my fairly simple digital camera proves to be a challenge for me (remember, technology basically hates me). My friend Marian (herself a talented photographer) mentioned that cell phone photography is a thing (who knew?), and my friend Jeanne sent me a link to an online cell phone photography course, so guess which rabbit hole I’m heading down now?  Those of you who are also my Fb pals can look forward to seeing some of my efforts (as I hone my craft) over the next twelve months.

Bees: In my small effort toward saving the planet, I’ve been working on creating a bee-friendly garden, and I’ve decided to become a bee keeper. Well, sort of. Bees, while they fascinate me also scare me. So, I’m not looking to become an urban bee keeper of honey bees, but I have recently painted my Mason Bee house a sunny yellow. Then I find out that (a) the girls have laid their eggs by the end of June and are done for the year, and (b) commercial bee houses are too shallow so the bees can only lay eggs that will become boy bees. I see a discussion with my two wood-working friends in my future and the creation of a new bee house for next year. Which indirectly connects to Rosie the Riveter. . . and my daughter pointed out that I’m the handyperson in our house (heaven help us) and I could put up the bee house without any help. Just in case you’re interested in Rosie, here’s a piece of information about “Rosie’s model: https://www.facebook.com/georgehtakei/videos/2378934868802619/UzpfSTEzNjI3NjQ2Nzg6MTAyMTU3NDIyMzMwOTMxNDA/?__tn__=%2Cd-]-R&eid=ARDPlKwaensk-Jb6StFG7nbZh4wTj7ws3iQTrX6UvkxXWFlA11jEoTyG2s7Q-wcleBJEaIDBBMKiv4AR&hc_location=friend_browser&fref=pymk

And Remember . . .

It’s not sufficient to save for your old age; you need to give considerable thought to what you’ll do while you are spending your money. However, and I’m reminded of a piece of advice from a former colleague, Brian: “A plan has to be flexible enough to change when necessary.” CBC host Michael Enright (one of my favourite hosts) recently gave a convocation address and here’s one comment he made: “I have learned that you should not do too much planning; always leave room for chance.” Here’s the entire address if you’re interested: https://www.cbc.ca/radio/thesundayedition/laughter-is-prayer-work-is-therapy-michael-enright-s-advice-to-new-graduates-1.5184709?fbclid=IwAR3q2_OA_PXj0rBbT9VuynfNHZTTmrUryAhN45oCR61GtKynCUTaztfloT0

. . . So, maybe you should take my retirement preparation advice with a pinch of salt.

There aren’t many situations in life that can’t be fixed or made better with well-pressed jeans, the right shade of lipstick, and a nice cuppa tea.

I’m not sure what my next blogging adventure will be, but this Year-in-the-Life-of now comes to an end.

Thanks for reading my blog (because writers always need readers), thanks for sticking with me, thanks for the positive comments and questions. I hope, in some small way, I have helped you if/when you make your own transition to retirement. If I have not taught you something useful, at least let my journey help you avoid disaster.

Cheerio and cheers, Chris J

Blog #13 (or is it #12?): A Day in the Life of . . .

 Blog # 13: A Day in the Life of . . .

I’m an English major which may explain why I can’t count. I seem to have managed to post two Blog #12s, but I’ve now arrived, correctly, at Blog # 13. (I hope.)

So, what do retirees do all day?

You'll recall my saying (in an earlier blog) that we give time, energy, and thought to our financial retirement but a lot less time to our emotional retirement . . . and that whole "What's my value?" piece is still causing me some grief.

Many younger retirees (in their sixties or seventies) will tell you that they are so busy they don’t know how they ever had time to work. Certainly my mum and dad said that for about the first 15 years of their retirement. I don’t really think I truly understood what they meant at the time, but the last eight to nine months have given me a much better understanding. Whatever it is that I do all day, I am certainly not twiddling my thumbs and doing make-work projects. I am always productively busy.

When David and I started talking about retirement, I was wondering what I’d do with my time. This wondering and chewing on the topic is all part of my continuing struggle to find answers to “What’s my value?” It’s also linked to my worries about not wanting to look back in 20 years’ time and wondering what the heck I did with my retirement years. I want to ensure that I use them wisely.

Wise man David suggested that retirees mostly continue doing what they did when they were working. I think he’s right – mostly.

Certainly, when I was working, I worked (which took up 10 – 12 hours/day), I walked, I visited with friends, I gardened, I read, I travelled, I volunteered, and I spent a lot of time at the stables working with our horses. The difference between when I was working full-time and now as a semi-retiree is that then I had to “squish” all my recreational activities into a short weekend (minus time for mundane things such as housework, laundry, grocery shopping, etc.) and now I have an extra eight to ten hours/day available to me. Back when I was working I looked forward to long weekends, and now they bypass me and I don't even notice them.

So, what am I doing?

I expect I'm doing what all retirees do in the early years of their retirement: completing long-over-due household projects that have sat on the “Honey Do” list forever. Plus, I am also walking, visiting, spending more time reading, resurrecting my interest in writing, planning long-put-off travelling, sleeping in, spending more time on interests, and—of course—spending much more time out at the stables working with the horses. 

Those of you living in Alberta know that February 2019 in Calgary has not been kind or helpful. It's been the coldest February in 83 years according to CBC Radio, so working with the horses was mostly been curtailed and reduced to that which is necessary vs. that which is pleasurable.

So, I’ve been informally keeping an eye on what my similar-aged friends are doing in their retirement. We’re all still young enough to be active and out and about. Fifteen years into the future, this may all change, but right now, they are all doing the things they want to do and did when working and enjoying the additional time to do those things. This is encouraging (for me).

In Blog # 10 or Blog # 11, I was reflecting that it was about six months since I’d left SAIT. I was reflecting that time seems to have both slowed down and sped up, and I was wondering how that happened. I found what I think is one of the best explanations of this phenomenon:

“That is why I need you to take into account the elasticity of time, its ability to expand or contract like an accordion regardless of clocks. I am sure this is something you will have experienced frequently in your  lives, depending on which side of the bathroom door you found yourselves. . . . time expanded in his mind, creating an eternity out of a few seconds.”

This passage comes from The Map of Time by Felix J. Palma. 

This is a book I’ve tried (unsuccessfully) to read several times, but with explanations like this one, I think I have to return to the book and attempt finish it. However, I see from the dog-eared pages of my paperback version that the “ears” stop at pretty much the same place . . . so I am unlikely to finish the book . . . but I do want to know what happened. So, if you’ve successfully made it through this book, please tell me “Who dun it.”

One of the upsides of having more time to myself (and having the intellectual energy) is that I have broadened my reading choices.  I find myself interested in, for example, blogs and articles I wouldn’t ordinarily read. For example, “How to Spend Your Time” by Matthew Coyte. Here’s a link to Avenue magazine’s article: https://www.avenuecalgary.com/city-life/how-to-spend-your-time/

What’s encouraging is that my struggles around “What’s my Value?” seem to ring true for many other retirees.

What else has changed in the eight to nine months since I’ve left work is the grief I felt at leaving work has eased and that I’m feeling more optimistic about the next phase. I am back in the work force (well, sorta) as a dog walker. I work around three shifts a week. It's a good job I’m not taking the job to get rich, but I feel much better having a “job.” I started as a dog walker in late January so I (and the dogs) have survived our awful February, and I’m now more or less ready to retire my woolly combinations and Sorrels till October or November.

I’ve also been looking for volunteer work--not just to fill in time but to make some difference in someone's life.  I was  hoping to become a volunteer at Opening Gaits, a therapeutic riding organization, but it’s way out in Priddis,  and I don’t drive much in winter. 

Source: http://www.openinggaits.ca/

As fortune would have it though, I lucked into seeing an advertisement in the Cochrane Greenhawk store and discovered Prairie Sky, a therapeutic riding organization in Springbank (about 15 minutes from me). 

Source: http://www.pseat.ca/

Way back in the day, when I was 16 years old, I was involved in one of England’s very first Riding for the Disabled organizations. I didn’t know much about the movement then, but I was sure happy to be helping out, spending time with the horses, and learning how to help the kids in the program. One of the young riders (now long dead) was a Thalidomide victim and very disabled. Riding Timmy (the naughtiest pony at the stables) lent her wings and allowed her to move as quickly or slowly as she wanted under her own steam (and with Timmy's more or less willing cooperation). Many years later, I ended up teaching in that very same program and the same riding school. Years later still, my daughter (Heather) volunteered up as a horse leader with Opening Gaits when it was still operating near the hamlet of Shepard, Alberta. When one has a young, horsey daughter who (at that time) wasn't old enough to drive, that meant that Mum got recruited as well. So it seems only fitting that I should come full-circle and become a therapeutic riding volunteer again. 

This, I hope, will address some of the “What’s my value?” question I’m struggling with.

One of my favourite posters and pieces of advice follows:

Source: Facebook posting from Online Equine

So, when younger retirees say to you that they are so busy they don’t know how they ever had time to work, believe them.

What’s next?

After surviving the application process for my work's pension (LAPP) and my Canadian pension, I put my British pension application off to the side of my desk for a week or so. Now, I'm just waiting for some new information from the powers-that-be at the British pension office, and then I'll be embarking on that application process. "Abandon all hope ye who enter here" comes to mind. Exactly, Dante, exactly. 

However, spring brings optimism and makes new plans seem more do-able. Spring doesn’t actually happen in my world till my horse Hasty starts shedding (and he’s not letting go of any winter coat just yet) . . . 

But, . . .  there are travel plans afoot, my garden is calling (and I have lots of plans to make the garden more bee friendly),  dogs will be walked in better weather, there's much more personal horse therapy time on the horizon, and I have volunteering with Prairie Sky to look forward to.

Blog #11: Government and Pension Forms: A New Form of Hell

Blog # 11: Government and Pension Forms: A New Form of Hell

Who was it who said, "What fresh hell is this?"

Source: https://www.bing.com/images/search?q=hell&id=B34DA4091183BB244D0FCA60341B51227DF9F899&FORM=IQFRBA

If the poet Dante Alighieri had ever been tempted to create a 10^th level of hell in his Divine Comedy it would have been for those poor souls wandering around and trying to fill out government forms.

I have no more than a passing acquaintance with Dante’s poem. I probably studied it in some English 101 course back in the day, and so I don’t think I can work it into this blog posting as a metaphore, or at least not until I have fully recovered from processing the paperwork for Blue Cross, my work’s pension (Local Authorities Pension Plan or LAPP), and my Canadian government pension and old-age security payments (CPP/OAS).

I do, though, feel as though I have been through form-filling hell and been spat back, gasping, into the land of the living.

Unless you have bags of money, chances are that your pensions form some part (small or large) of your retirement income, and so it’s pretty important to get the paperwork submitted on time and filled out correctly.

How hard can it be? 

Or as Canada’s late, great Stuart McLean was wont to say, “What could possibly go wrong?”

Plenty, it seems.

In my own defense, I am an immigrant and I did lose my landing/immigration papers!

So, as I can’t pretend to be a shining example for pension application/filler-out of government forms, I must (like the Titanic) be a cautionary example instead.

Honestly, Chris?

Honestly! 

Stay with me. 

If I don’t manage to entertain you, I might educate you so you can avoid similar pitfalls.

My mistake, I feel, was trying to tackle processing Blue Cross, LAPP, and CPP/OAS as one big project!

Oh, and my vocabulary has had a good workout in the process.

Blue Cross

Let’s start with Blue Cross.

In Alberta, when the oldest one of the couple turns 65, both partners have their monthly insurance premiums picked up by the government. Well, at least for now. Depends on what happens if our provincial government changes to a less-enlightened government, but that’s a topic for another day.

Really, it’s quite simple: one has to prove one’s age, prove that one is married/in a partnership, and (I seem to recall) prove one’s partner’s age.

Not that difficult; we had all the forms.

After some moments of frustration (Where does one go for a Commissioner of Oaths?), I figured out that my local Alberta Motor Association (AMA) is a registry office, the clerks there just need to see the documents, the application form gets an official stamp, and off goes the form to Blue Cross.

Hindsight being 50-50, it all seems so straight-forward now, and I’m wondering why the process sent me into a tail-spin.

LAPP

Then there's LAPP.

One can process one’s LAPP application on line. Or, if you’re like me, you can process paper copies and send them in via registered mail because it’s hard to argue with registered hard copies of documents.

One has to prove one’s age (fair enough), marital/partner status, provide bank information, and sundry other information. All reasonable requests.

And then comes the request for “legal” copies. What the heck does that mean? And one of the forms must be signed by a Commissioner of Oaths.

I had all my paperwork lined up, all the copies of the various documents were organized, and so off David and I go to our local AMA office in search of a Commissioner of Oaths. Why David? Because he has to prove who he is as well and so he has to be there in person.

We get to AMA only to find out that no-one at AMA can notarize copies of the documents.

Blinding flash of the obvious (which I do wish would happen earlier in the process): call our lawyer. 

$75 later and with all documents duly notarized and/or commissioned, off they go to the Alberta Pension folks. By this time, with lawyer’s fees, train fare, and registering the package, I’m out about $100.00 and David’s lost two half days of work.

And then, a couple of days later, a response from LAPP indicating that I just needed to submit regular photocopies of the documents!

At the time, while I was processing my application, I thought that I was caught in a whirlpool; now the whole process is mercifully a distant and fuzzy memory.

CPP/OAS

CPP/OAS is another matter.

So, please remember two things:

(1)   I am an immigrant, and

(2)   I managed to misplace/lose my landing/immigration papers, and I had no idea that they’d gone missing sometime in the previous 43 years.

In the process of completing all the paperwork, I have come to the following conclusions when applying for CPP/OAS:

1.      If you are currently a foetus, it’s a good idea if you can persuade your mum to go into labour and birth you in Canada. Sixty-five years into your future, and assuming your mum is still alive, go give her a big hug and kiss because she made your life so much easier.

2.     If you’ve passed beyond the foetus stage and it’s too late to persuade your mum to birth you in Canada, all is not lost providing you do not lose your landing/immigration papers. In my own defense, those papers went AWOL sometime in the last 43 years. Until I applied for my CPP/OAS, I had no idea they were missing and I have never needed them. Well, perhaps when I applied for my citizenship card and my first Canadian passport, but certainly not in at least 40 years.

3.     If you are not fluent in one of Canada’s two official languages . . . bring a friend who is (a) proficient in at least one of the two official languages and (b) can cope with government forms.

4.     If you are not reasonably competent with computer programs and searching for information . . . bring a friend who is proficient.

The CPP form and the OAS form are each around four pages. The forms are very detailed, and once again one has to provide proof of age (fair enough) . . . and marital status . . . and immigration status!

Trip #1 to the Harry Hays building on a bitterly cold and blustery day (somewhere south of -25C):

Source: https://www.bing.com/images/search?q=harry+hays+building&id=29A4AA3BC2DB4771CE74B89F9F852D9BE71C37D2&FORM=IQFRBA

·        Waited in line for about a half hour.

·        Initial (triage?) review of my documents by a lovely chap . . . and because I’ve lost those immigration papers, I was directed to a computer to locate the necessary form – the name and number of which the lovely young chap couldn’t remember. Really? Really!

·        No problem, said I. After all, I did work with lots of programs and databases at work, and I’m not a complete twit when it comes to finding information on line.

·        Forty-odd minutes later, and with no-one around to help, I am in tears.

·        Yes, me -- in tears.

·         So, I muttered some very rude words to myself, packed up my bags, and left.

Outside the Harry Hays building, sense, reason, or the biting cold helped return logic and good sense to me.

·         I am made of sterner stuff.

·         I do know how to do the stiff-upper-lip thing.

·         I’m not without resources.

·         I can find the missing document.

·         I can complete those bloody forms.

As a former, and late, colleague of mine (Borden McLeod) and Charlie Brown were/are wont to say, “Good grief!”

Thankfully, a much-needed blinding flash of the obvious presented itself again (and as always, way too late in the process):

·       I’m a problem solver by nature, and I love solving problems.

·       I needed to treat the whole process like a brand-new curriculum project! After all, that was my job. I know how to do this.

Organized as a curriculum project, things fell into place quickly. 

I lucked onto the necessary form: Consent to Exchange Information with Citizenship and Immigration Canada SC ISP-3210 (2016-06-30) E. 

The document was filled out. I made a quick phone call to England to confirm my late dad’s birth year (1927)  and my mum’s birth year (1931). Seriously – one does need this information.

Trip #2 to the Harry Hays building on another bitterly cold and blustery day:

No line up. Woooo Hooooo. (Remember to go buy a Lotto ticket, Chris.)

Another lovely young chap at the counter checks my forms, gets me to fill in a few missing details, stamps everything, and off goes the paperwork. 

Where’s the “Easy” button?

Source: https://www.bing.com/images/search?q=easy+button&id=CE99699E78ED7C175049469343702DC692EDC46A&FORM=IQFRBA

Mind you, the permission to investigate my landing status can take up to 12 months as both Canada (to check I arrived) and England (to check I left) have to be contacted and that checking process appears to hold up OAS payments.

So, a couple of observations on the CPP/OAS process:

1.      Absolutely never, ever, ever lose your landing/immigration documents. EVER. If you have lost them already, reapply for them long before you need them.

2.      Pop to the loo before getting into the lineup/queue at the Service Canada centre in the Harry Hays building.

3.      Don’t ever change your name.

4.      If you are in desperate need for a post-document-processing coffee, there’s no longer a coffee shop in the Harry Hays building, . . .  so expect a long-ish walk to the nearest Timmy’s or Starbucks.

5.      Applying for CPP/OAS appears to be a whole lot easier if you 

     (a) are born in Canada, 

     (b) don’t have a spouse/partner, and 

     (c) don’t have children born after 1958.

 If you are applying for the Child Rearing Provision as well, your best guess around dates of Family Allowance cheques had best be a good guess.

What about this name change thing?

I do not have a “married” name; the surname name I use is my birth name. But, . . . some 36 years ago I added my mother’s maiden name as an extra middle name. So the name I was born with, the name I emigrated with, and the name I use now are different. Complicates things? Not sure. I certainly hope not, but that Change of Name documentation becomes very important. I imagine that for women who do change their name and take their husband’s surname, the marriage certificate becomes important. I’m assuming that if there’s been more than one marriage and more than one change of name, all those documents become important.

No judgement on my part; women may do whatever they want with their last names. And in the spirit of inclusivity, men who change their names will also need to pay attention to the extra documentation. Same goes for any folks transitioning to a new gender.

What’s next?

Now I have to tackle my British pension application!

Fortunately, that pension kicks in a little later than CPP.  

The later timing of the British pension is thanks to the mess various governments have made with pensions – especially women’s pensions and especially for women in my age range. But, . . . that’s a conversation for another day, and the poor Brits are too busy dealing with Brexit to worry about the pensions of women.  

So I do have time to recover from my form-filling adventures for Blue Cross, LAPP, and CPP/OAS before starting my British pension application.

Miscellaneous

Other than being swooped into form-filling hell and clawing my way out, semi-retirement is progressing as it should. February 21 marks eight months since leaving SAIT. I’m still trying to figure out the “What’s my value?” question, but I am starting to feel a little more settled as a semi-retired person.

February in Alberta has been the coldest February on record in 83 years, and one of the things I have come to appreciate about being semi-retired is that I can roll over in bed until it is finally light outside (currently around 07:30), and I can spend the first hour or so in my PJs and bunny slippers sipping tea, playing with the cats, and catching up on either Face Book or my reading.

However, roll on better weather because I’m itching to get back into the garden, and I'm itching to be out at the stables without having to bundle up like the Michelin Tyre man.

BLOG #11: Rosie the Riveter

BLOG #11: Rosie the Riveter

What does WWII’s Rosie the Riveter have to do with Chris’s retirement?

It’s a stretch.   I admit it. But please stay with me. 

I’m not getting ready for a post-retirement career as a riveter, but I am enjoying doing a lot of household maintenance stuff that’s been on the Honey Do list for ages and not been picked up because of working full time, . . . and that’s “Rosie’s” connection to my retirement.

Do you remember “Rosie”?

If you are first-generation post-war (so, a Baby Boomer) you’ll know of “Rosie” and her ilk, but not first hand. Younger readers will have to resort to checking out Wikipedia’s posting of “Rosie” and the WWII war efforts by women.

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosie_the_Riveter

I’ve always been fascinated with “Rosie.”

• Is it her arm muscles? No, although they are impressive. 

• Is it her ability to work with tools in a factory? No, although those skills are also impressive. 

• Is it the  “F*** You” look on her face? No, although I’ve gotta say she can pull this off. 

• Is it that “Rosie” represents women’s entry into the workforce, women taking on "men’s" jobs, women’s contributions to the war effort while running a household and raising small children? Nope, although all these efforts are incredibly impressive.

No, what has always fascinated me about “Rosie” is her head gear.

Growing up in Northern England in the 1950s and 1960s (which is what makes me now retirement age), I was used to seeing women in different types of head gear. In fact, back then, few women would have left their homes without headgear of some kind and this meant anything from fancy fedoras (upper middle class to middle class) to berets (middle class to working class) to head scarves (working class, unless you are the queen and she totally rocks head scarves):

Source: https://www.bing.com/images/search?

q=queen+elizabeth+ii+and+head+scarves&id=5CDA03A21D242E95812F44F71573B3D6477FF549&FORM=IQFRBA

Younger women such my mum bucked that trend, though, and didn’t wear hats except for church.

“Rosie’s” headgear is very working class and very practical. I love how she scopes her hair up into her headscarf to keep her safe around machinery and to keep her hair clean.

And I want to learn how to do that head scarf because baseball caps just aren’t doing it for me as I work through the various items on my post-full-time-employment to-do list.

Now, I’m pretty darn good with a screw driver, a hammer, and paint brushes and rollers. And I'm okay with mudding and sanding. But . . . I’ve never felt confident with power tools, drills, or saws of any type, but I expect it’s just a case of learning to use these tools. . . so I’m keeping an eye of Rona’s bulletin board in case they have any courses such as “Power Tools for Dummies.” And as Joan B knows, I’m ace at using a mallet and taking down walls.

But I’m convinced that I’ll be a more effective retired home-maintenance person if I could only master “Rosie’s" headscarf.

So, what I’m working on right now – because I’m retired and because I have the physical energy to tackle these jobs – is replacing door knobs and door stops and painting bathrooms: getting rid of hideous 1980-era knobs and updating the colours on the walls. Thank heavens I’m still flexible enough to do these jobs.

So far, I haven’t found the right kind of cloth scarf so I can’t do up my hair like “Rosie.” I think it has to be cotton as a synthetic fabric would slip.

Blog #11 is just a short blog, and I am hoping that I have sort-a,  kind-a linked Ms Riveter to retirement.

Blog #12 (which is a work in progress) is about my efforts to submit paperwork to Blue Cross, LAPP, and CPP/OAS. 

Stay tuned – especially if you were born outside of Canada.

Blog #10: Winter Solstice and Life-long Learning

BLOG #10: Winter Solstice and Life-long Learning

December 21, 2018, marks six months since I left full-time employment.

This year, December 21 also marks the winter solstice.

The winter solstice and life-long learning don’t have any direct links to retirement. However,  I find that now that my intellectual and physical energy aren’t tied up with paid work projects, I do have the energy to reflect on and chew on seemingly unrelated things and find surprising links.

WINTER SOLSTICE

Like all major life events, the six months since I left SAIT seem to have dragged themselves along while at the same time they have passed in the blink of an eye. I’m not sure how that happens. Scientists of various sorts will tell me that while what I feel is real,  time doesn’t work that way. (Dr. Who might say differently, of course.) All I know is that time has the ability to drag and zip by all at the same time.

When I was working, I found the time between October and February to be a real drag. This had nothing to do with the events embedded in the academic calendar and everything to do with the planet’s position in the heavens and its access to the sun. I was up at 05:30 (in the dark), leaving the house at 06:45 (in the dark), arriving at work around 07:15  (in the dark), and heading home any time after 17:30-ish (yes, in the dark). I was fortunate to have an office with a window so I did at least know that there was daylight. This year, of course, is different. I don’t have to get up at 05:30 

. . . I can roll over and get up at a more civilized hour, and the things normally relegated to the weekends can now be accomplished in regular daylight hours so somehow, when 05:30 or 17:30 rolls around, I don’t feel quite so hemmed in.

And I have to wonder if my increased outdoor time is contributing to increased production of vitamin D and that in turn is a contributing factor to my feeling so much better.

In my casual conversations with other retirees, one of the big benefits of retirement I hear over and over again is the benefit of being able to get up and get moving when one wants to.

LIFE-LONG LEARNING

The other day I was listening to Rosanna Deerchild’s CBE radio program Unreserved: https://www.cbc.ca/radio/unreserved. If you are not normally a listener, it’s worth considering adding this radio program to your usual listening. As I now spend a lot of time in the car to and from the barn, the radio has become my new best friend.

I love Ms. Deerchild’s approach to her program (about Indigenous life in Canada). The most recent program I listened to was about Indigenous folks learning their own languages again. Look for the CBC podcast called First Words: https://podcast-a.akamaihd.net/mp3/podcasts/unreserved-xqVQWqQm-20181219.mp3.

Canadians don’t need to be reminded that the residential school system and the sixties scope did their best to eradicate Indigenous languages in an effort to make Indigenous children more “Canadian.” So it takes courage and grit and determination to reclaim the right to language, to learn it,  and to own it.

If learning one’s original language isn’t an example of life-long learning then I don’t know what is.

This particular episode of Unreserved got me thinking about the nature of learning and, as always happens when one opens one’s mind to things, other examples and other questions pop up and demand to be addressed.

I’ve always been fascinated by the process of learning: why people learn, how they learn, how educators can help people learn. Undoubtedly this is why I made my way through my working life as a teacher and as a curriculum specialist. What I became more and more interested in, though, is why some folks are unable or unwilling to learn. There could have been a PhD thesis in that topic at some time in my past working life. Nevertheless, any conversation I have with myself about the process of learning has to include not only how to facilitate learning but why learning is so difficult for some folks.

And, . . . it’s not just the human species that has the capacity to learn or the struggle to learn.

We currently have (yet again) a rescue kitten who had a rough start to life and who is having to learn some of the social graces required to happily live with humans and other domestic kitties. The kitten, a lovely orange-on-orange stripped kitty, is like the class clown . . . teachers will recognize this kid . . . the one always doing something (generally good naturedly) to wiggle out of some situation he finds difficult or boring. That’s our Cheddar. Our other cats have taken it upon themselves to teach Cheddar how to behave as a cat. Supported by our household’s humans, Cheddar is slowly becoming a civilized critter and realizing that life is actually pretty good as a well-behaved critter. 

If that’s not life-long learning then I don’t know what is.

Houseguest Leonard working on Cheddar's manners

My horse, Hasty, is going to be 25 in the spring. Twenty-five  years old is getting up there in horse years. Hasty’s always been a very reactive horse: quick to spot potential danger, quick to worry about pretty much everything, quick to react when the pressure was more than he could cope with. Teaching Hasty that not everything in his world was a threat and that his rider could be relied upon to do her part to keep us safe has been a slow process over many years. As a result, I would never, ever have thought that Hasty would have become a “school” horse. 

Now school masters (and dude ranch horses) are worth their weight in gold. Ask any riding school owner/trainer or parent trusting their small child to a large equid. School horses tend not to be reactive, they tend to look out for their riders, they tend not commit to any action unless they are absolutely convinced that that’s what their rider/driver meant, and they tend to have the capacity to switch off and let the world flow around them. None of this is Hasty. Being a school horse would be very stressful for Hasty. 

Nevertheless, in David’s ongoing education as a horse owner, taking lessons on Hasty is teaching David about whispered aids. Riding a light and responsive horse was the next logical move. My teacher’s heart sang with joy as I watched horse and hubby figure out how to become a team, watched David learn how to work with a reactive horse, and watched Hasty learn that he could trust David as his new and occasional rider. 

It’s worth mentioning that while I am a horse woman of some 60 years, David (who has been involved in my horsey “doings” all our lives together as a couple) is not at all horsey. So you can imagine my surprise when, at the tender age of 58 he took up riding and at the tender age of 61 he decided to buy himself a horse! 

If that’s not life-long learning then I don’t know what is.

Hasty chillin' out in the field this summer

David’s horse, Bear, is an Icelandic gelding who is (rather like Cheddar) the class clown. He can and does find ways to wiggle out of lessons that are difficult or boring, but he is by nature the right temperament to be a school horse. As Bear’s only 9 years old he’s at the middle of his educational journey as a riding horse. Which is--naturally--why I decided it was time he started his journey as a driving horse! In part, the decision to start Bear out ground driving was due to the recent death of my friend’s beloved horse, Skuggi, and the arrival of her new horse, Freyr . . . and Freyr is both a riding and a driving horse who can work in harness solo or as a pair.

So, Bear needed to catch up with his new buddy. Bear at least was starting from scratch, had no bad habits to overcome, and is a quick study and willing pupil. Unfortunately, I wasn’t starting from scratch and so I do have a lot of bad habits to overcome.  Although I’ve driven (see blog #9) and although Hasty is an experienced ground driving horse, with trainer Shannon, I’m learning a whole new (and better) approach to starting a horse at ground driving. There’ve been a few blips along the way, but Bear truly has been a star pupil (and his human is catching up).

And if Bear’s entry into the world of being a driving horse, and if my entry into a different way of approaching this learning aren’t examples of life-long learning, . . . then I don’t know what is. 

Bear and David chillin' out in the field this summer

For about the last ten years, I’ve been accompanying David to Calgary Flames home hockey games. Now, David’s a bred-and-born Canadian who grew up playing hockey so his knowledge of the game is seeded in his DNA. Not so me. 

Despite going to games for some ten years, I still haven’t a clue what’s going on. 

For me, watching the crowd’s behaviour is the most interesting part of the game. I have long suspected that my lack of knowledge about the game is seriously pinching my enjoyment of the whole experience. I also suspect that I can no longer pull the “I’m an immigrant so what do I know about hockey” card, so I’ve set myself a goal to learn more about the game’s rules. 

This is not a New Year’s Resolution (which have a life expectancy of about a nano second with me). This is life-long learning at its best (I hope).

MISCELLANEOUS

After a rocky and stressful start to retirement, I’m starting to believe that there may be a lot of good things about this retirement business. 

Mention the word “retirement” on Facebook and I can guarantee that you will get all sorts of adverts that are more-or-less related to retirement. As I am in the process of wrestling various corners of my home back into submission, and as I am weeding out a lot of “stuff,” this particular link seems very relevant right now: 30 things every retiree should get rid of (by Jason Notte):

https://www.msn.com/en-ca/money/retirement/30-things-every-retiree-should-get-rid-of/ss-BBQqzAT?ocid=spartandhp#image=31

I’m currently re-reading one of Dan Brown’s books (Deception Point). It’s a high-action, fast-moving book with lots of life-threatening things happening to the protagonists, and there are some seriously mean bad guys. Fortunately, the protagonists never need the bathroom! (See earlier blogs and references to penis envy.) So, I got to thinking that if I should ever write the great Canadian novel, it’d have to have a protagonist who was dealing with a minor bladder infection and all her actions would have to revolve around finding an indoor loo . . . which got me wondering whether or not I should seriously consider signing up for Margaret Atwood’s masterclass on creative writing!

 Happy Winter Solstice. I, for one, look forward to the return of daylight (more riding and more gardening). 

Cheers, Chris 😊