Category: CasaDaSonhos

Good news, bad news. You can defend yourself with a two-edged sword, but you can also cut yourself. With a good fire, you can heat, cook and see after dark; or you can burn yourself or burn down a home!

Weather here has been vicious. Four days straight of rain, winds to 34 knots (39 MPH or 63 Kph), winds so strong it was tough walking across the veranda for firewood for the stove. (Make no mistake; I love the Azorean weather!)

Here’s what it looked like most of the time on the trees on the far side of our little backyard (more impact if you crank up the sound!)

So you know what’s coming next: It’s an American right to complain about everything!  Now that the storm has passed, the grass is high, some poor schmuck has to go out and mow the grass, bring in more firewood, clean the ashes from the stove, and wash the truck, etc.

Good news, the grass is very very green, the ocean is very very blue, and the view from the kitchen is relaxing, tranquil, pastoral, and downright beautiful.  After four days in the house, all the cleaning is done (if you know the boss, you KNOW that will never happen:)), the laundry is done, the honey-do list is complete (I wish) and there is nothing on Netflix we haven’t watched in any language.

Yes, I’m an American first (Portuguese second) and so I complain. It’s my right, I’ve earned it (25-plus years of government service) and now I’m exercising my right. But I was raised that if you can’t something nice, don’t say anything. So, Mom and Dad, rest assured, I still follow your teachings. There are many nice things, and after most difficult times, there is a rainbow after each storm. I love my rainbows here:)

After a morning walk along the beach, it’s time to face the day. “Face the day” after retirement has different connotations for me; always the usual cleanup after breakfast looking out kitchen windows, and often working around the new house, which sometimes leads me to think of family back in the states. So as we tackle some “less than exciting tasks” around the house, I wonder if the next generation will appreciate our hard work?

I spent most of my adult life working in jobs where my work had an immediate impact on someone else. I’ve had to face a transitionary period when I realized no one really sees an impact on what I spend most of my energy on…or really cares about it one way or the other. That realization, for me anyway, is a significant adjustment.

So when I buckle down to tackle yet another task, I find myself wondering if future generations will appreciate our hard work. Planting trees in the yard (today it was two bright red flowering bushes which resemble bottle brushes and are aptly named something which translates loosely to  ‘bright red bottle brush bushes”); repairing wind-blown screens around the mango tree, the avocado tree, etc. Other tasks this week included greasing all of the shutters, doors, windows, and locks throughout the house; weeding, collecting rocks and moving them out of the gardens and yard (this is, after all, a volcanic island in the ocean).

As I’m struggling to get the dirt off my jeans and clean up the trowels and rakes, I’m searching for truths in my last 40 years…did I raise my daughters to appreciate what we’re building for them? When my grandchildren visit the island, will they appreciate fresh avocados, mangoes, and persimmons? Will they enjoy the fragrance of the flowers we’ve planted and nurtured? Will they even be cognizant of how much work it is to maintain all the steel and aluminium elements of the house in gale-force winds all winter, rain blowing horizontally, the sun baking down all summer?  Probably not.

So, I open a cold beer and find myself asking, are we doing this to ourselves? Investment? Battling Boredom? Keeping ‘the warden’ happy? Physical activity to combat aging? All good, selfish reasons. But under the surface, that faint vein of introspection…did we raise our children to appreciate what we’ve done so they would enjoy it? Who knows.

Such intellectual meanderings keep my brain happy while I’m pulling rocks or weeds out of the yard.

Most mornings and evenings I find myself peacefully enjoying the beautiful view and occasionally contemplating mortality.  Invariably, I refocus on reality, hoping that I’ve done all I can to raise a family that does occasionally appreciate our efforts, and then re-invigorate myself with the mantra I’ve adopted to face life and the pandemic…”It is what it is.”  Then I force my aging joints off the stone wall where I’m sitting, head into the house, kiss my darling bride, and smile to myself. It is, after all, time to get ready to “Face another day.”

Missing Home! Yesterday Air Azores started flights back to the island for the first time in months. First flights were filled, we hear. This also on the heels of news that the U.S. is not on the list allowing visitors to Europe, and the slightly confusing reports that the Azores may or may not play by the same rules. We’ll wait and see what options develop; we miss home and we also love so many friends and family on the island that we have no desire to endanger any of them. Meanwhile, we isolate, watch TV, and drink Aguar Dente!

Overwatch — that’s what we used to call the team which had the best vantage point and sufficient power to keep an eye on anyone operating at a lower level. That’s the team who never tired, you could always count on, had the most creativity, communication skills and knew when to act and when not to.

Here at Casa da Sonho, we currently have a great overwatch team commanded by a great friend and neighbor… and her team:)

Thank goodness, we have more flowers, a new flower bed on each side of the front walkway, and a more difficult lawn mowing job…do you detect just a little sarcasm?

Things here on the island run slow. Very slow. Sofia planned the flower beds last January, we ordered the cement borders from mainland, they arrived in August, and we planted them yesterday. Our wonderful neighbor helped, and we spent most of the day working on flower beds in our yard, in the street in front of our house (a turn-around overlooking the bay and a popular place for tourists) and in Christina’s yard.

One stereotype for retirees is “working in the garden.” I wasn’t expecting that to be part of my retirement. Hmmmmm, expectations and life don’t always balance out, right? But…. Happy wife, Happy life:)

Like nearly everything, retiring overseas has it’s pros and cons. Visiting family and friends often means living out of a suitcase, this time for a month. We visited several old towns, family, friends, neighbors, loved ones acquaintances, and business associates. Some of the “pros” included watching a daughter graduate and meeting her friends, spending some quality time with another daughter, and getting to try several exciting new rental cars. Some of the “cons” include never enough time with everyone, never enough time to add another name to the list of visits, bad Internet connections, spending too much money, and sleeping on several different floors, beds, couches, and air mattresses.

But this trip also brought home with us a couple of friends who we’ve travelled with, ridden motorcycles with, camped with, drunk with, and worried with. Though they never had travelled outside the North American continent, they had pledged to come see our retired life on the island, and they did! We had a wonderful time showing them around, they tried new foods, made new friends, and made us very very happy. They braved days of air travel, TSA lines (Boston…arghhh) and they rode in boats, trains, and numerous cars and trucks. We laughed, cried, and can’t wait to see them again.

We’ve decided that travel back home is great, memories are great, Kodak moments are great…but the best thing by far is realizing how many friends and family are supporting you, even with an ocean or two between you and them! The only thanks they want is for us to be happy and that’s pretty invaluable!

Living overseas offers a unique opportunity to return to where friends and family live, catch up on the good and bad news of everyone’s live, share news of the new life you have, and then COME HOME:) Even with mostly rain in the U.S., we made new friends, saw our daughters grow and excel, hug and kissed dozens of great folks, and then survive several flights, airports, and we’re home, enjoying a great view, a visit from some great friends, and the joys of unpacking.

Coming home always gives me a feeling of accomplishment. I succeeded in pushing myself, affecting lives (hopefully positive) and returning to a refreshed outlook on life.

Travelling is great fun; coming home is greater:)

Sometimes I have to stop and think…or go walking along the boardwalk with my lady in the moonlight.

When anyone asked me about retirement before I came over here, I’d tell them “Not less problems, just different problems.” I was right. But since I’m a “glass is half empty” kind of guy, I never mentioned “but the rewards are better.”

Different problems. Health insurance isn’t what we thought. More bureaucracy than we ever dreamed possible. Never enough money. Different cultural expectations…traditionally you say to everyone who walks into a shop while you’re in there or they think I’m a stuck up American, little things like that.

But the rewards. Besides gorgeous sunrises and sunsets, winds whipping your wheelbarrow across the back yard (yes, darling, I’ll go move it back after I finish this post!), and the invigorating howl of winds, you get fresh fish for lunch, watch the donkeys on the mountaintop graze, go shopping with your neighbor, and a fresh ham and cheese sandwich and shot of coffee for breakfast.

So I admonish anyone thinking about retiring, moving your family, traveling to a new place…keep things in perspective but be realistic…not no problems, just different problems…and better rewards!

A European island has some challenges, some frustrations, and some of the finest traditions I know…a cup of coffee is one of them. Now trust me, NO ONE enjoys a drink or three, some “adult beverages,” a great wine with dinner (as well as before and after), and some just plain hard-charging Aguar Dente (Portuguese drink, often homemade, clear, high-proof, different flavors, similar I think to Brazilian Cachaca) … well, you get the idea. But no matter what the weather, with or without a meal, meeting an old friend, lover, American or not, NOTHING compares to sharing a cup of coffee. I think NOTHING! It can take anywhere from a few minutes break from work to an hour-long conversation, rendez-vous, or a quick respite from pouring rain.

My experience is that many of my friends from Germany, Spain, Switzerland, Turkey, France, or Portugal who visit the U.S.A. usually complain, when they return to their respective homeland, that many Americans don’t understand what a cup of coffee does for your mental well-being. And retiring here, I can’t disagree … it is a wonderful tradition.

Try it…and if you like, give me a call and tell me where and when…I’ll be there!