Facing Retirement

“Retirement,” which seemed so far off just last year, is now close at hand and remarkably easier than I thought it would be.


John’s Carver at its slip in Charleston, SC, on the night I boarded for our five week trip together.

Back in Spring 2022 — just 14 months ago? — I was on a cruise with Capt John on his 36′ Carver Aft Cabin cruiser on a trip up the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW). (You can read more about that in my Great Loop blog.) It was April and I was trying to enjoy the cruise while worrying about a bunch of work-related things back home:

  • Cherry season was coming up and I had all the usual concerns about the season. Would the cherry crop be viable? Would all my clients sign up? Would I get back clients who hadn’t signed up last year because of the frost? How much acreage would I have to cover? Would I need pilots in Wenatchee, Quincy, and Mattawa or just Wenatchee and Quincy? Would I be able to find enough pilots?
  • My helicopter N7534D, was aging and had just 20 hours left until a required overhaul that would cost $270K. I had already decided to sell it after cherry season, but was 20 hours enough for the season? What would I do if I flew that off?
  • Would I be able to sell my Part 135 charter business (which had become a pain in the ass because of the ineptitude and spite of inspectors at the Spokane FSDO) with a nearly timed-out helicopter? Would the guy who kept claiming he wanted to buy it all actually come up with the money?
  • Would I be able to find another helicopter to replace it without going back into deep debt? Or should I just retire from cherry drying? Would I be able to sell my cherry drying business to someone else who wanted to take my place?

All this was going through my mind as we cruised at 6 knots up the ICW, spending a few days at stops along the way. To be fair, my cherry season stress normally starts in March and April, but this year it seemed more stressful than usual, mostly because of the age of the helicopter and its upcoming need for an overhaul.

My idea of “retirement”

Wonder why I keep putting “retire” and “retirement” in quotes? It’s because my idea of retirement isn’t the same as most people’s.

I’ll never stop working. Whether I write or make jewelry or do odd jobs in the gig economy, I’ll always have something to keep me busy that brings in a few bucks. (Hell, this summer I’m even selling eggs from my chickens at $5 a dozen.) I’d already considered getting my boat captain’s license — yes, for a boat I didn’t even own yet — and doing charter cruises to earn cruising money.

I won’t stop working until either my mind or body makes it impossible. Working keeps us alive; you can ask my wasband about his dad’s short retirement to get an idea of what I mean by that. (I hope you’re resting in peace, Charlie.)

In general, although I had thoughts about retirement, it was still far off on the horizon. I couldn’t imagine being “retired.”

I did, however, have a rough plan for buying my own boat and cruising the Great Loop in it. I’d even looked at boats. But I couldn’t buy a boat unless I sold the helicopter and I still couldn’t buy a boat if I wanted to get another helicopter and stay in the business. So I figured the boat purchase would be sometime in 2024, after that cherry season. Maybe that’s when I’d “retire,” too.

Everything Changes

Everything changed with a phone call. A guy with a lot of money offered me a lot of money for the helicopter if I sold it then. He wasn’t interested in the charter business, but the amount he offered for a helicopter that I was hoping to unload in a few months anyway was too much to ignore. On May 6, I watched it fly away for the last time with the money secured in my bank account.


It was a lot easier to say goodbye to this helicopter when the money was in the bank and my thoughts were on the kind of boat I’d buy to replace it. Also, no more $20K per year insurance bills. Yippee!

I arranged to lease a helicopter for the season. (There were problems with that, but I won’t go into it here.) I got contracts, I got pilots. The season started off good and then fizzled out in mid June when it stopped raining. The season ended in August. I heaved a sigh of relief again.

I listed my charter business with a broker. I knew that I’d have to get a helicopter to keep my Part 135 certificate and I’d decided that I was done owning helicopters. The broker listed it for a lot more than I expected.

Meanwhile, with all that helicopter sales money sitting in the bank, I started shopping for a boat. By the end of August, I’d made a deal on one.

Around that time, the broker found a few buyers for my company. One backed out. The other was an idiot tire-kicker who called me directly with a crazy lowball offer. But the third was serious. As I was signing papers on DocuSign to buy the boat, I was signing other papers on DocuSign to sell my company.

And suddenly, I found myself with a nearly new Ranger Tug, a new company that offered just cherry drying and aerial photo services, and a bunch more money in the bank than I expected to have at the end of cherry season. I’d also shed a costly-to-keep helicopter, a charter business I no longer wanted, and the anxiety of dealing with unreasonable, demanding people at the FAA.

I celebrated by spending September learning to cruise in my new boat. Then I shipped it to Chicago and got it on the Great Loop.


While I’m home this summer, I can be reminded of my first day on the Loop with the new Home Screen on my phone.

I named my boat Do It Now. Frankly, I was done waiting. Hell, I’d been done way back in 2010 but had a husband to shed to move forward. It had taken me 12 years to get through the divorce debacle and become financially secure in my home — which I’d paid off in July 2022 — before I could get back on track for what I wanted out of life.

But I didn’t think that I was one big step closer to “retirement.”

Retirement Thoughts Kick In

It wasn’t until this past winter that I started thinking about the possibility of tapping into the retirement money I’d been saving in earnest since the late 1980s. I own some stock — including Apple stock I originally bought at $13/share in the mid to late 1990s that had grown substantially with numerous splits and stock price increases. And I had some savings. And my living expenses were pretty low since just about everything I owned was completely paid for.

I’d been under the impression that I had to wait until I was 65 to start tapping into my retirement funds. Or maybe it was 62? I asked a knowledgeable friend. No, he told me. 59 1/2 is the age you can start using that money.

Holy cow. I was there.

I had a great winter cruising on the Great Loop in Do It Now, covering 3000+ miles, mostly solo. I made friends, saw a lot of new places, and met challenges along the way. I took a seven-day captain’s license class and passed the test.

But as March and April came along, I had the same cherry season worries as usual, but with a twist: I didn’t have a helicopter to fly. How was I going to deal with that?

Various solutions came about and I explored them all. But it wasn’t until I started contracting with clients that I realized what a non-issue it would all be. One of my clients did not sign up again. Since he accounted for about 2/3 of the acreage I cover, my season would be a lot shorter with fewer pilots and less revenue to pay them. I’d be able to keep a lot less money.

At first, I was angry. But then I reasoned it out. I wanted to to retire at the end of the season anyway. I was hoping to be able to sell the business, but if I had a good enough season, I might talk myself into keeping it and doing it again. But this one client had helped me make two decisions that took a lot of stress out of my life:

  • Without the added acreage, the business wasn’t worth selling so I didn’t have to stress over finding a buyer (or dealing with the tire-kicker who claimed 3 years ago that he wanted to buy my whole business).
  • With less revenue coming in, it was less attractive to keep doing the work. I was no longer tempted to do it another year. Retirement at the end of the season was a definite.

And I’ll be honest here: the client who had backed out was a pain in the ass anyway. Now I wouldn’t have to deal with his antics.

No, I haven’t been drying cherries for 25 years. It was only 15 years. Before (and during) that time, my summers were ruined by book deadlines, mostly for Quicken Official Guide, which I wrote the first 11 editions of starting in 1998.)

I was looking at the reality of having a summer off in 2024 for the first time in 25 years. It took no time at all to imagine my trip up to New York that summer for the ultimate Champlain, Erie, and Severn Canal cruise in my boat.

And with that, I had scheduled my retirement: August 2023. I would be 62 years old.

The Money Stuff

The question was, could I afford retirement without changing my lifestyle? I have to admit that cruising in a boat thousands of miles over the course of months is not exactly cheap. If I wasn’t going to make enough cherry drying money this summer to cover the next year of cruising, where would the money come from?

The answer was easy: my retirement funds.

They’d been growing and shrinking and growing and shrinking but mostly growing over the past 30 years. If I continued to earn some income from other sources, I wouldn’t need much every year — probably not even enough to start getting social security anytime soon. After all, other than cruising my cost of living was modest. (It really pays, folks, to eliminate all your debt before you retire.)

I had a talk with my accountant yesterday and a “retirement specialist” at my investment firm today. I discovered that my lowered income would save a lot of money on taxes, get me a better ACA health care subsidy until Medicare kicked in in 2026, and enable me to make retirement plan withdrawals without huge tax hits. I also discovered that tapping into my IRA would be as easy as filling in a form on my investment website. The money would arrive within days as a direct deposit to my bank account.

Of course, the money I’ve invested in my retirement funds is not unlimited. I will eventually run out. How quickly that happens depends on the stock market and how much I take each year. But I still have Social Security waiting for me and can always sell my home on the next market upturn. I think I’ll have enough for the rest of my life.

That is the goal, isn’t it? To die with just enough money to dispose of your body and give your friends a big party to say goodbye?

Facing retirement? Yes, but also embracing retirement. I just didn’t expect it to be this soon.

End of May Already?

Time flies when you’re busy, whether you’re having fun or not.

My last two posts were more than a month ago, in April. I haven’t written a single word — in any of my blogs — since then. I’ve just been too damn busy.

Or tired. Or unmotivated.

The Trip Home

I’m home now from my winter travels. Unlike previous years when I took my RV — most recently, a Lance truck camper — down into Arizona and California for December through March — this year I was on my boat traveling along the Great Loop. I’ve done a total of just over 3000 miles in the boat since I launched it in Chicago in October 2022. Most of that has been solo — just me and my pups. Turns out that my guest accommodations are not satisfactory for friends who have joined me. (Who knew?) Also, I don’t think they got the trip they were expecting. So solo is probably better, at least for now, until I can find a companion who has the right expectations and doesn’t mind sleeping in a cozy cubbyhole.

I’ve been trying to detail my trip in my Great Loop blog, My Great Loop Adventure. Unfortunately, I got behind in my posts and then I got really behind in my posts. As I type this, my most recent post covers my stay in Clearwater Beach, FL in January. It’s now the end of May. I have to hope I can reconstruct the following three months from my notes, travel logs, and photos. That’s one of my main tasks for June. You can help motivate me by reading and commenting on the posts there. That blog will eventually become a book — if I can ever catch up and finish it.

I had the boat hauled out of the water in late April and put “on the hard” at a marina in Chester, MD. The boat’s bottom looked great — no damage at all and very clean after a quick power-washing. It won’t need painting before I launch it again, so that’ll save some money. On the other hand, it appears that a shallow water incident on my first Loop day did indeed do some minor damage to the prop. (That is the only shallow water incident I had where the prop was involved, so it must have been that.) Obviously not enough to affect operation — after all, I did drive it 3000 nautical miles after that — but enough to have the prop pulled and the two tiny blade bends fixed. That might reduce the vibration I feel at certain speeds and, according to the yard owner, it might even help me get an extra knot of speed. I was also very pleased to see that I didn’t have any crap trap line wrapped around my prop; I know I cut one line with the prop on Florida’s west coast but never had any symptoms of a problem.

After cleaning the inside of the boat and packing up, my pups and I headed for Dulles Airport early in the morning of April 27. At 2:30 local time, we were back in Wenatchee, where my friend Bob picked me up and took me home. My house-sitters had vacated just a few days before, leaving the place neat and clean, with clean sheets on the bed. (Thank you John and Allie!) I’m not sure if the cats were glad to see me, but I know the chickens weren’t. I’d been gone so long, they surely had no memory of me.

Good to Be Home?

For the next few weeks, I felt conflicted about being home.

First of all, it was nice to sleep in my big, comfy bed that, amazingly, didn’t rock at all at night, no matter how windy it was outside. It was nice to be able to use a toilet without worrying about how many times I’d flushed, what color the tank light was, and where/when I’d have to dump waste. It was also nice to take a shower with as much hot water and space as I needed without having to walk to a separate building on shore. And I really do appreciate my dishwasher, washer, dryer, and giant refrigerator.

I was home with all the comforts of home. My boat is comfortable, but its space is limited and, like living in an RV, there are special concerns that you just don’t have at home.


Here’s the view from my deck one day not long after my return. How can a person not love looking at this every day?


I changed the Lock Screen on my phone to a shot taken by my Looper friend Kim on her boat Pony as we headed down the Chicago River in October 2022. Now I’m reminded every day where I want to be.

But I did miss being on the boat. Traveling from place to place, meeting new people every day, seeing new things every day. Facing and overcoming challenges. Enjoying the simple joy of a sunrise from up on the command bridge, with a gentle breeze in my hair and waking birds flying about. Motoring to a new destination with very little idea of what I’d find along the way or when I arrived. I’m a traveler — like my grandfather was — I’m happiest when I’m on the road — or water — exploring new places or revisiting favorite old ones.

So the first few weeks home were a bit of a mental challenge, with an internal argument telling me I should be happy to enjoy the comforts of home while also telling me that home was boring and predictable and I needed to get back out on the boat as soon as I could.

The Art Shows

Of course, I had to hit the ground running when I got home. (Or I thought I did.) I had four weekends in a row with art shows and I seriously doubted I’d have enough inventory to do them.

It started a week after my return, with my second appearance at Wenatchee’s annual Apple Blossom Festival. There’s an Arts and Crafts show the second weekend of that event with strict setup rules. That had me setting up my booth on the Thursday before the event. That day, I also (finally) got a haircut and made myself presentable to the world. I spent the next three days in my booth, suffering through the dust or pollen or whatever that stuff was that got on everything. The event was extremely disappointing; I suspect my work was too high-end for the audience. I tried not to be insulted when two different people — guys, of course — came into the booth to ask if I had anything around $10. I don’t.

What followed that were three consecutive weekends at Leavenworth Village Art in the Park. This is a juried show that I’ve been part of for the past three years. It’s held every weekend from May into October and artists are able to choose the weekends they want. Management then picks the artists and tells them which dates they can have. I picked five weekends in May, August, and September, and got four. I always want Mother’s Day weekend — I’m selling jewelry, right? — but this year I didn’t get it. Until about two weeks before I got home. Another jeweler had backed out on that weekend and I was asked if I wanted to take her place. Hell yes. So that’s how I wound up with three weekends in May.


Here’s the current incarnation of my art show booth, set up for Mother’s Day weekend in Leavenworth, WA.

(I should mention here that I don’t do weekends during the summer because that’s cherry season and I’m on standby. I can’t answer calls promptly if I’m sitting in a tent a hour’s drive away. More on that in a moment.)

So I set up for Mother’s Day weekend — three days. Unfortunately since I thought I wasn’t going to do Mother’s Day weekend, I booked a class in Ellensburg — two hours from home — to teach silversmithing on Saturday. I thought that class might get cancelled; it was a relatively expensive four-hour class. But it wasn’t so I had to get a friend to sit in my booth on Saturday while I went to Ellensburg to do that.

Mother’s Day weekend sales were very disappointing.

So was the next weekend. That made three weekends in the row with disappointing sales.

I was beginning to think that it was either the economy or the venue that was bringing my sales numbers down. People are definitely not spending like they were back in 2021. And, at the same time, some of my work was becoming more refined and, yes, more expensive. Was I making a product that wasn’t a good match for the “tourist shows” I was showing at? My friend Janet, who has been doing art shows for about 40 years now, thinks so. I think I’m on a sort of knife’s edge where I could go either way. I can make the lower-end items people seem to be ready to buy but I want to make the higher end items that are more creative and challenging and help develop my skills as a silversmith.

The good part of all this is that although I thought I’d have to spend the month making jewelry to keep my inventory up for shows, I didn’t. I made a handful of new items and then, after that third bad show, took the week off to tend to other things.

I went into the four-day Memorial Day weekend with very low expectations.


This was the first of two “next level” pieces I made during the month of May. Hubei Turquoise in sterling silver.

And I kicked butt. Seriously: I had my second best ever show. (The best was Mother’s Day weekend in Leavenworth back in 2021.) Although I’d told myself I’d stop making the wire-framed pendants that had gotten me started back in 2018, I had to make them while I was at my booth just to keep my displays filled. And beaded earrings and bracelets and necklaces. And I sold them. But best of all, I also sold one of the high-end pieces I’d made earlier in the month — a piece I considered “next level” for me. While I was sad to see it go — sometimes I get a real attachment for my work — I was also thrilled that someone was willing to pay that much money for something I’d made.

So now I’m done with shows for a while, coming down off a high from this past weekend. My next show is at Lake Chelan — yes, another tourist show — but I suspect I’ll do well if the weather is good and folks come out. I have three weeks to stock up and I have some ideas for the kind of next level pieces I want to make.

The Diet

Well, it took about 10 years, but I managed to gain back all of the weight I lost back in 2012, the year I also shed a husband and gained full control of my life. If you’re a regular reader, you may recall that I’d gone on a Medifast diet along with a friend and we both lost about 45 pounds in four months. (I basically followed him down the scale; he was a week ahead of me and we’d started at the same weight. He’s shorter than I am.) I kept most of the weight off for a few years, but little by little my overeating habit returned and the weight came back. For the most part, I eat very well — very little junk food and hardly any fast food — but I tend to like what I eat and eat more than I should. That’s what got me back to where I started in early 2012.

I’d tried cutting back on my eating but was unsuccessful. I needed a program that was easy to stick to, one I knew would work. So I went back on the new version of Medifast, which is called Optavia. Mostly the same food — although definitely sweeter sweets and saltier savories (what’s up with that?) — and the same plan. I started on May 1 and 30 days later, I’m weighing in at about 16 pounds less than I started. I’ll stick with it throughout the summer and have no doubt that I’ll reach my goal weight (again) before I go back to the boat in September.

And this time I’ll keep it off. It’s mostly for my health, but I can’t deny the emotional kick I feel when I look in the mirror and see someone who looks as good as I should.

Cherry Drying

I start my last season drying cherries on June 10. This is a mellower than usual season with less acreage and fewer pilots. It’s also not clear how much flying I’ll do — if you recall, I sold the helicopter to buy my boat last year. Last year, I leased a helicopter for the season, but that ended with problems I didn’t want to blog about — and won’t unless they rear their ugly head again. (Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t blog about everything in my life.) This year, I might be flying one of the helicopters my pilots are bringing up from Texas. Or I might not. It depends on whether it rains. (If my pilots have everything under control and can dispatch themselves, I’ll tell the Leavenworth Village Art in the Park folks to put me on their wait list for other summer weekends.)

This will be my fifteenth season drying cherries. Since I started way back in 2008, I’ve built my business up to the point where, at its peak, I had six guys on my team every summer and was bringing in more revenue than I did during the heydays of my writing career. Things are slowing down now and that’s fine with me. The stress of worrying about a crew of mostly unknown pilots and literally hundreds of acres of client orchards has really taken a toll on me. This is the last season I’ll be involved and I’ve already let most of my clients know.

When I look back at my freelance career, I’ve come to realize that I’ve been working every single summer since 1998. If it wasn’t a Quicken book, it was cherry drying. I’m really looking forward to having a whole summer off for the first time in 25 years and I’ve already made plans for it.

As for the business, I’m hoping this season’s pilots will consider taking over my contracts and giving my current client base the good service they deserve.

Will I miss flying? I already do, a little. But honestly, I’m enjoying the boat so much that I think I can get over it.

Remember: you can’t move forward if you’re looking behind you. Being a helicopter owner/operator is in my rear view mirror and I’m not turning around.

Other Stuff to Keep Me Busy This Summer

My list of Things to Do gets bigger every day.

Gardening
I didn’t properly put my garden to bed last autumn so that meant more work this spring. I finally have most of my 12 beds planted. I still need to weed around them and get things neatened up.

Selling Stuff
My biggest problem at home? I have too much stuff. I’m in the process of selling off a bunch of it. I’ve already sold my helicopter landing platform and tow bar; one of my summer pilots might be buying other helicopter gear I still have. I also need to sell my truck camper and my little boat — yes, I still have that! Future items for sale: my telescope, my cheesemaking gear, a bunch of circa 2000 Apple swag from Macworld Expo shows, my beekeeping equipment, and so much more. Craig’s List has been an absolute gem at moving this stuff out without costing me an arm and a leg.

Garage Bathroom
I still need to finish the bathroom in the garage. That’ll require some assistance on the plumbing from a builder neighbor who I hope to get in here soon. The goal is to have it done — or at least the toilet functioning — by the end of June.

Garage Reorganization
What a mess my garage is! I’m reorganizing it to move all my woodworking and tools out of my jewelry shop area and into the adjacent space. My workbench will become a miter saw bench. Then I’ll expand the jewelry shop to include space for two students, as well as my futon and some other furniture to make it a more comfortable, useful space.

Spring Cleaning in the House
I’ve already done the cleaning part of this. Now I just need to offload a lot of clothes and other household items I simply don’t need in the house. Yes, I’m downsizing! There are a lot of reasons for this, but the main one is that less stuff means less clutter.

Blogging
I really do need to catch up on my Great Loop blog. And not neglect this blog so much.

Working the Jewelry Biz
I need to keep making new jewelry, selling it at shows, and bringing it to established consignment and wholesale accounts. Others are selling my jewelry for me and although they take a hefty fee — as much as 40% — it’s a lot more efficient to let them sell it than to go to shows, especially since I can’t do shows when I’m on the boat. I also want to start teaching small classes out of my shop, using days when I need to make a specific product to teach others to make the same thing. That’s something I need to set up soon since my time home is so limited.

Those are the main things that will keep me busy this summer. I guess I’d better get to it.

The world around you changes in minutes. Pay attention.

Three photos show how the world around you can change — in less than 12 hours.

Just a quick blog post to remind you to live life mindfully. The world around you changes every minute. Stop and watch.


Sunset yesterday evening at Belhaven Marina in North Carolina.


Minutes later, after the sun had set.


This morning, just after dawn, as fog blanketed the far bank of the river.