Doing very little...

...slowly. That's one idea people have about retirement. The advice, or description, is another way of saying what we used to say in Silicon Valley, when I worked in California: we said, "the more you have to do, the more you get done." The corollary: the less you have to do, the less you do.

But that's a different world. My advice to people who come here to live, out in the French countryside, is to slow down. Really slow down. My goal is to do one thing a day. Or, I should say, accomplish one thing a day, outside my normal routine. Is cooking lunch an accomplishment? Not under my definition. It's necessary, and recreational. Other routine tasks are less amusing, but they have to be done too.

Getting wood sawed for the winter —
now that's an accomplishment.

Raking up leaves, tilling a garden plot, re-organizing the garage, cutting wood, trimming a hedge — are those accomplishments? Yes, they are. You could conceivably just let them go undone. Bottling that wine you bought en bulk a few days ago, weeding a garden, vacuuming out the car... those are things you really don't have to do today. You do have to cook lunch. Or at least eat something, and I'd rather eat food I've cooked than something prepared in a factory.

"A sense of urgency." That's another ideal of the work life. It's what we looked for when we were interviewing candidates for a vacant position in the software business. Well, that "sense of urgency" is superfluous, even counterproductive, when you live in a place like the outskirts of Saint-Aignan. And it can be frustrating, because it seems like so many things just take longer here. You need patience, not a sense urgency. Where's the fire?

This hedge is a lot of work.
You're probably sick of hearing about it.

"Settling for the slow lane of life." These are phrases I hear on one of my favorite TV shows, a British comedy called As Time Goes By. The 35-year-old publisher tells the 65-year-old writer that he seems to be "settling for the slow lane." Settling? You have to be kidding. Wallowing in. Exalting in. Learning to love. Finding happiness in. All those apply, when it comes to "the slow lane of life" — but "settling"? Who is kidding whom?

Granted, it's a time of life. The problem is that when you come here and operate out of "a sense of urgency," and when you refuse to "settle" for anything less hectic than that life you were used to, you have stopped adapting. You are in a rut. It's hard to get out of a rut. And it is really hard to slow down. For years, your sense of self-worth depended on your doing more and doing it faster. It's hard to let go, to go with the flow.

Taking down the old back gate, which needs replacing, and
putting up a temporary one — just work, or an accomplishment?

I feel like I'm doing plenty. I still find myself thinking: that has to be done tomorrow. Otherwise, when will I do it? The answer is: day after tomorrow, next Friday, or the next time we have a sunny day. It all waits. It's just the everyday stuff that needs to be done... well, every day. The rest will still be there, when you get around to it. You have to be a self-starter, but within reason.

There's a French saying that goes: « Faire et défaire, c'est travailler. » Doing and undoing — in other words, doing the same things over and over and over again. Cleaning the house, getting it dirty, and cleaning it again. Same with laundry, dishes ... everything. That's work. Raking leaves too. I cleaned off the gravel driveway Saturday, and by Sunday evening enough new leaves had fallen to cover it right back up again. Faire et défaire...

Accomplishments in the form of autumn leaves

The other day, before the rains started, I raked up leaves. Again. That's been my life for nearly two months, and there will be plenty more to rake up before winter really comes. After the raking, I spread the leaves on a garden plot that I had tilled up a couple of days earlier. On days like that, I have to take care of the everyday chores ahead of time, just to make the time to accomplish something that is outside the regular routine.

I have leftovers for lunch, for example, because I can't rake and cook at the same time. How did I ever juggle work responsibilities and everyday domestic tasks? I guess I was younger then. I just never slowed down, like many people I know.

Taking the time to admire nature

I remember sitting in miles of stop-and-go traffic with all the other commuters, one person to a vehicle — the driver. One driver would be reading the newspaper, another shaving or putting on makeup, or and still another eating. One day I was driving along at 40 or 50 miles per hour, in heavy traffic, when I noticed that the driver in the next lane over was eating Chinese food out of a cardboard tray. With chopsticks! When you find yourself doing that, you should get a clue: it's time to stop and smell the soy sauce.

Out in the vineyard, they prune the vines and burn the clippings,
every fall and winter, in these home-made contraptions.

Sometimes I wonder why I can't take my own advice, though. It's been 7 years since I had a paying job, and I'm busy all the time. I guess it's my nature. Writing this blog, taking the pictures, processing the pictures — all that has become part of my daily routine, along with walking the dog, cooking lunch, cleaning up the kitchen, putting clothes in the washer and hanging them up to dry. Reading the newspapers.

I still need to learn to slow down. As I've joked, retirement is hard work: you have to keep at it 24 hours a day. When I worked, I had "free" time. Now, every minute counts — especially the last one. Without that minute, nothing much would ever get done.