Nicholas Clements

IT’S BEEN MORE THAN 10 years since my retirement journey began at age 52. For almost 30 years, I’d worked hard, especially the last two decades, when my twin brother and I owned a landscaping company. Vacations were few and far between, and even on vacation I was always on call.
I was burned out and ready for a new chapter. Going into retirement, I was well-prepared financially. But how I’d fill my days was something of a mystery.

CAR BUYING CAN BE overwhelming, which partly explains why we held onto our 2002 Toyota RAV for as long as we did. When the time came to part ways, we needed to decide whether the replacement would be new or used, how much we were prepared to pay, the features we wanted and what vehicle would meet all our criteria.
These were relatively easy tasks. While I realized that purchasing a used vehicle made more sense financially,

THEY SAY OPPOSITES attract. In many ways, this is true of my husband and me. When we met, I was very frugal. My husband was on the other end of the spending spectrum. But we’re still together 21 years later—and we have managed to make this work in a way that’s been good for both of us.
We both well remember that first visit to the grocery store. Before we moved in together, I would go down the aisles with coupons in hand,

I HAVE NEVER BEEN under the illusion that happiness was a simple matter of more money and more material goods. But I did question where happiness could be found.
When I was young, I saw poverty at its most extreme in newly formed Bangladesh, where my family lived for four years during the 1970s. People struggled each day to stay alive and were lucky to find food and shelter.
As an adult traveling through Mexico,

IN THE EARLY YEARS of the landscape maintenance company that I owned with my twin brother, we would hire workers locally—both American and Latino. But each year, we struggled to find a sufficient number of willing and able workers.
It wasn’t until several years into running the company that I heard about the H-2B visa nonimmigrant program. The program allows companies to bring in foreign workers for as long as nine months. I saw this program as a way to provide our company with the workers we needed.

IT ALL BEGAN WITH an afternoon phone call between Andrew, my twin brother, and me. I made an off-the-cuff comment about starting our own company. For the previous eight years, both of us had worked at a large lawn care company and then, for a few brief months, at a medium-sized landscaper.
Neither of us doubted we would be successful. But we were taking a large financial risk: Starting our own company meant leaving the security of a regular paycheck,

I WAS LESS THAN 10 years old when I decided that I wanted to earn some extra cash over and above my weekly allowance. I took day-old sections from the Washington Post and went door-to-door in my neighborhood, selling each section for a dime. Not many fell for it, but there was a couple who were willing to hand over a dime to a young boy looking to supplement his allowance.
I doubt that I earned much from this endeavor.

I WAS STAYING on the outskirts of Mexico City, with no internet access. But I had my satellite radio and I was listening to CNBC. The reception wasn’t good, but the news was even worse. While bad financial news had been pouring in from every corner of the globe for months, it seemed matters had suddenly got much worse. It was September 2008.
The global financial crisis affected many companies, big and small, and the commercial landscaping company that my twin brother and I owned was no exception. 

IT WAS APRIL 29, 2009. My 12-hour workday had already begun when, at about 4:30 a.m., I received the call from Jonathan, my younger brother. He never calls at that hour. In fact, we never phone without first texting each other to determine the best time to talk. I sensed bad news and sure enough it was. Our father had been killed 36 hours earlier while riding his bicycle. In the months that followed,

SPENDING DIDN’T always come easy to me. As a child, I had a small weekly allowance, the spending of which I carefully controlled. In boarding school, a treat for me was a Mars bar from the school “tuck shop”—a British term for a small candy store.
As I entered my mid-teens and started to earn my own money, more often than not it went into my savings account. Only when I turned 16, and had my first car,

YOU CAN TELL THE story of my generation in myriad ways—including through our evolution as investors. I entered the world of stock investing with the purchase of shares in Twentieth Century (now American Century) Select Fund. It was the summer of 1987 and I was 26 years old. By autumn, the stock market had crashed and the value of my shares along with it. It was the first of three major market declines that my generation would face.

AS I PREPARED TO retire at the relatively young age of 52, it was important to me not to become isolated, not to lose touch with the world beyond my home. My husband continues to work, leaving me on my own for much of the day. I consider myself a social person. All my jobs have involved working with employees and customers, from my first job as a delicatessen cashier through to running my own landscape maintenance company with 25 employees and hundreds of accounts.

OUR HOUSE IS 65 years old. I have lived in it for almost half that time. Originally, I bought the house with my twin brother. Now my husband and I live in it. I feel like I was a pioneer of the tiny house movement. The house is 750 square feet. The bedrooms all measure 10 feet by 10 feet. The living room is all of 150 square feet. There are one-and-a-half bathrooms. The previous owner had a family of six.

FRUGALITY: I DON’T know whether it’s inherited or learned. I do know that I am frugal—and have been since I was a boy. My grandmothers were both frugal. One had to be out of necessity, while the other just was. My siblings all have the frugality trait. When asked who is the most frugal, fingers tend to point toward me. I could argue with that. But then again, being frugal is good, right?
I am not materialistic.