Call me an old lady, but I kind of can’t wait to move into a retirement home.
I’m serious, I’m baffled as to why there’s a negative stigma about them, why those actually eligible for residence are typically resistant.
Consider for one minute: Someone cooks AND cleans for you AND organizes social activities to fill your day! It sounds like a freaking cruise ship. Sign. Me. Up.
Before Little Man, the girls and I regularly volunteered at a nearby retirement home… and by “volunteered” I simply mean socialized with a room full of doting grandmas and assembling puzzles or crafts. I had a copy of their social calendar, which was filled with the likes of aerobics, movie nights, tea time, wine tasting, card playing, quilting, and bird-watching… what’s not to like??
Sassy Grandma has arrived here in Montana, and we have spent the last few days sipping tea, crocheting (or knitting??) doilies, watching Jeopardy whilst sipping Lambrusco (don’t judge), and duking it out over the Scrabble board. (i.e. Having a blast.)
Tomorrow we hit the open road, ala Thelma and Louise, on our pilgrimage to Oregon with the kidlets. Please pray for our sanity and our safety. In that order.