Today, I had a sense of freedom that I haven't experienced very often, if ever. Perhaps it was just all the planets and stars aligning. Perhaps it was the first really spring feeling day in southern Tennessee. Perhaps I just got caught up on my sleep. Finally.
Regardless, it was a good day. A simple day but a good day.
Gorgeous ruled the farm this morning. And I actually accomplished something on my physical "to do" list. Burn barrel duty. I got that baby up to 451 degrees Fahrenheit and demolished around 150 pounds of paper. Accumulated for over ten years. For anyone interested, the secret of burn barrel success is to vent it and stir it often.
I vented it with my .22 lever action. Since I'm apparently not going to get another shot at the possum (his nickname is now Grey Ghost since I can't seem to ever catch him cleaning up the cats' leftovers), I thought I would fire a few rounds at the virgin burn barrel. Caused the cats to head for cover for about thirty minutes, but the vent system worked perfectly.
Headed home smelling all smokey and gave Emerald and Baylee a nice workout on their leashes. They have a great fenced in area, replete with pool and hot tub, but they tend to spend their free hours on the couch. So we traversed 4.8 acres of the 5 with them, knocking some ell-bees off Baylee and off me.
After a shower, lunch.
After lunch, Walmart. (Hey, don't act like you don't go to Walmart.) I have to admit that I've become one of those old guys I used to simultaneously pity and snicker at...the ones that you see pushing the carts while their old lady (I'm pretty sure Geri doesn't read my blog) pulls things off the shelves. Now here's the tie-in to the burn barrel story. I stopped by sporting goods to replenish my .22s. Haven't bought any in about four years. Guess I haven't been watching the news. Not only did Walmart not have any .22 shells, they don't expect any for several weeks and only a handful at that time which they will sell in 20 minutes. Gee whiz, when did us idiotic human being start hoarding .22 shells? He said after Sandy Hook. Afraid the government is going to ban ammo. Okay. I get it. But what the hell am I supposed to use to put vent holes in my burn barrels? Or shoot at and miss malicious marsupials.
After Walmart, we went to a couple of cemeteries and walked around. Saw some great-great and great relatives. Or at least their final resting places. Does one good to visit those silent cities every so often.
Finally, home. With the feeling of freedom as alive as it was when I awoke. So, for all those people who ask me how I like retirement, which is everyone all the time, the answer is I love it. I don't think I like the word "retirement" however. For right now, "self unemployed" will do.