There's still a few things to do. Tomorrow I return the car, a couple of croziers and a book or two. I'll clean out my office, and do goodness knows what with the contents. No great drama there.
Holy Saturday, I lit holy fire and flicked water over people in the candle lit haze of All Saints, North Dunedin. Easter day I preached and sat in that ridiculous chair one last time, before driving slowly home to change and then to sleep the afternoon away.
Today I took some stuff to the dump, cleared my in tray, trimmed a hedge, cooked a stir fry for dinner, cleared out my filing cabinet, and read a bit.
I need to buy a car and there are a couple of promising ones in Auckland. On Wednesday I might spend some of my great wadge of accumulated airpoints, and then drive something plain and red and Japanese down the length of the country and back home again.
So this is what being retired is like. Ordinary.
Holy Saturday, I lit holy fire and flicked water over people in the candle lit haze of All Saints, North Dunedin. Easter day I preached and sat in that ridiculous chair one last time, before driving slowly home to change and then to sleep the afternoon away.
Today I took some stuff to the dump, cleared my in tray, trimmed a hedge, cooked a stir fry for dinner, cleared out my filing cabinet, and read a bit.
I need to buy a car and there are a couple of promising ones in Auckland. On Wednesday I might spend some of my great wadge of accumulated airpoints, and then drive something plain and red and Japanese down the length of the country and back home again.
So this is what being retired is like. Ordinary.
Comments
Lennon & McCartney's Sunday was always on the phone to Monday (echoing the life of a cleric, perhaps); The Boomtown Rats just wanted to shoot the whole day down; and that great 20th century prophet Mama Cass (whom you channel in the title of your post) just could not trust that day.
My advice is to skip straight over to Tuesday - much more mellow.