"My life has no purpose, no direction, no aim, no meaning, and yet I'm happy. I can't figure it out. What am I doing right?"

This morning I sat on my deck with a fire going in the chiminea to keep me warm. My yard was filled with the sweet smell of the burning pinion wood. I read my papers, drank my coffee and watched Gracie try to catch a critter in the wood pile.

Last night we had s'mores by the fire pit. We wore socks and sweatshirts to ward off the chill. It felt more like September than July. The temperature was in the 50's. I'm thinking summer really hasn't settled yet. She drops in for a bit then heads south. The paper says 70's tomorrow. I have my fingers crossed.

My friends and I celebrate holidays and special days together. We welcomed dawn on the first day of spring, burned sparklers for Chinese New Year, ate king's cake at the Mardi Gras fete, had corn beef on St. Patrick's Day, hot dogs and burgers on July 4th, and on Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter we combined and enjoyed each others' family traditions and holiday foods. Tuesday we're celebrating Bastille Day. We don't really need excuses to get together; we do it all the time, but the special events are fun. We get to try new foods, listen to unfamiliar music and learn the customs of the day. I haven't yet figured out to commemorate Tuesday's storming, but I'll figure a way.

I worked fifty or more hours a week, went to bed early and got up every day at 5:15. I was at work before 6:30. Saturday night was about the only day I played. So, when I was about to retire, I wondered what to do with all the time I'd have on my hands. I shouldn't have worried. I don't fill all the time nor do I feel guilty about the down time. Every night is now a Saturday night, and I get to play whenever I want. I'm loving life.