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I think on occasion it’s nice to highlight a simple little pleasure of retirement—nothing earth-shattering, you understand, just something the gift of retirement time has allowed you to accomplish.
Late yesterday morning I found myself standing on a mile-long sandy beach, the Atlantic breakers sounding like a jet engine and the wind trying its playful best to knock me over. I was accompanied by eight other retired individuals as we marshalled ourselves to conduct a voluntary beach and sand dune clean-up.
We had a successful day together and unbelievably managed to gather nearly half a ton of discarded litter—a sad reflection on the attitude of some who visit our coastal retreats. We ran a fun little competition, keeping a separate small bag for our most unlikely find of the day.
I thought I’d clinched victory with a slightly battered and rusted can of fly spray bearing Russian Cyrillic lettering, but at the end of the clean-up, the winner was crowned: a pair of purple fluffy handcuffs discovered deep in the extensive sand dune network.
One can only imagine the story there. Though perhaps it’s best not to.
As we walked back to the car park, wind-battered and pleasantly tired, there was that satisfaction that comes from a job well done. Retirement has given us the luxury of time, and what better way to spend it than giving something back to the place that gives us so much?
We stood huddled around someone’s tailgate, passing around a thermos of coffee that tasted far better than it probably was, warming our hands on the cups and laughing about the day’s finds one more time. Then, with promises to do it all again in a few months, we went our separate ways—already looking forward to the next improbable treasure hunt along our battered but beloved stretch of coastline.
Retirement is a wonderful thing.
Nice article Mark, good job too.
It brought a chuckle to me. I just wondered if I wrote it how I would be skewered for not sticking to money matters. 😁😁😁😁😁
Litter and shopping carts have something in common – irresponsible individuals.
Do you think I would have gotten the dreaded down arrows for this fictional post?
This morning, I embarked on a perilous journey through a battlefield of rogue SUVs and blaring car horns. My mission, should I choose to accept it, was to confront humanity’s greatest failing: the mysterious inability to return shopping carts to their designated habitat.
Apparently, those final twenty feet between “I’m done shopping” and “cart goes here” represent an insurmountable challenge for a shocking number of people. The result? Automotive carnage. Innocent vehicles getting dinged. Parking spaces held hostage by abandoned carts. Paint jobs weeping quietly in the corner.
This ends now.
Armed with my newfound retirement freedom and a sense of justice, I have assumed my final hero form: CARTMAN, scourge of the parking lot, terror of the cart-abandoners, champion of vehicular safety. These reckless cart criminals will face swift and terrible consequences, namely, my sternly written blog posts and possibly some prolonged tutting.
Consider yourselves warned. I have nothing but time, comfortable walking shoes, and the moral high ground. My vengeance will be measured, reasonable, and entirely within local by-laws. The shopping cart vigilante era has begun. Return the carts…I’ll be watching.
Well… I guess it depends on how you might have written it 😂
Yup, I was rewarded all my working life for being open and direct. I once was accused of flying at 200 feet rather than the more common 10,000 feet in the HR profession. During labor negotiations the unions appreciated that and so did the CEO as long as we were alone in his office. 😎
As the philosopher Voltaire might have said: I sometimes cringe at what you say, but will defend to the death your right to say it…well, I’m not that brave, but I will make exasperated noises in support of your right. In other words. I uphold the principle of your right of free speech, but, on occasion, I’m going to be very, very annoyed while doing so 😂
I love the message conveyed by “…passing around a thermos of coffee that tasted far better than it probably was, warming our hands on the cups and laughing…”
This applies to all of us, of all ages whether retired or still working! Keep the articles coming Mark.
Mark,
Thank you for relating your simple, yet highly, enjoyable adventure.
Please keep writing!
Loved this story! Thanks for sharing it.
If you want a laugh, Google “David Sedaris and picking up trash” and read the humorous tales of how a new Fitbit tracker in 2014 triggered in him an obsession with cleaning up the countryside that he was walking through. That litter-picking obsession threads through a lot of his essays. There are worse obsessions!
Laura. Surprising as it may seem, I’ve never read any of David Sedaris’ work. Now I’m retired, I’ve no excuse. I’ve heard he has a wicked sense of humour.
You must listen to David Sedaris narration of his experience as a department store Santa Claus elf. A classic…and hilarious!
I went to Ireland for the first time last spring and loved it. If I had to plan the trip again I would spend more (maybe all?) of our time on the coast. I’m a Pacific girl through and through, but after our trip I have a new appreciation for how magnificent the Atlantic can be!
I love that your group made the clean-up fun by adding a little fun competition. I can imagine the fun and laughter as you all warmed up with coffee at the end. The gift of time is a wonderful thing indeed!
I’m guessing the Pacific is a bit warmer than the Atlantic. I have a sea kayak and even in the summer I need a two season wet suit before I brave the Atlantic!
What a great way to make a potentially gross project fun. Like your efforts on Halloween, it’s a great way to ‘plug in’ to the community.
I wondered where our handcuffs went!
Maybe buy a pink set next time 😉
While walking daily along the narrow rural road that we live off of during the early days of COVID I noticed significant trash. One day I decided to bring along a large trash can liner. It’s a mile to the state road (still very rural) and not only did I fill that bag, but the next day I half filled another. Now I do a pick up about every two years and still fill a large size trash bag full. This year’s big find was a partially buried box full of dishes. Really?
It’s truly amazing what people decide to throw away. A few years ago while out walking, I found a box containing an old Atari game console—the one from the late 1970s with the wood-effect front—along with around twenty game cartridges.
The gift of time in retirement is definitely something Spouse and I are grateful for also. If we were still working, the past year would have been so much harder. It is still hard with our sandwich generation life, but we are better able to pivot. This fall we have tried to take walks in nature when the stress is getting to us. Thanks for the lighthearted article about your beach clean up, Mark, it is a good reminder to all of us about doing things to help others as part of our retirement. Chris
Contrary to a few beliefs, my wife and I both retired in our 50’s. It provided us as much time as needed to spend with both our parents in their remaining years. I have saved messages on my phone from my parents so that I can hear their voice again.
I have a digital recording of my mum and two close relatives enjoying Christmas Day at my home. They’ve all passed away now. The video is stored on my cloud storage, but the format is very old by today’s standards, and I’m constantly worried that it will eventually become unsupported and I’ll lose the ability to view it.
Let’s hope new technology will be able to enhance the digital recording you have. I don’t have any family videos…wish I did.
Chris, being in the sandwich generation with an elderly parent is difficult and hard going – I went through this with my mum. She’s passed now, but I’d honestly endure all that difficulty again just to hear her girly laugh one more time.