I received a piece of mail yesterday that stated I’ve been eligible for membership, and queried why haven’t I joined? It was from the AARP. I am not how they found me in Rockville, or what gave them the impression that I am over 50 years old, but I am thinking of taking them up on membership. I wouldn’t mind cashing in on some senior discounts.

The letter got me thinking about retirement; not that I am anywhere near ready or able to, but when that time comes where I would want to be? As much as I am enjoying living in Rockville, I don’t expect to be here into my golden years (although Leisure World does look pretty sweet). Whenever I do think about those senior years, it is generally in someplace warm.

I’m a big fan of warmth. I had no qualms with working in Orlando one summer in college, (even while wearing a furry character costume). I can take the heat in stride. What I can not handle is the cold, the bitter cold that lingers for days and weeks on end; the cold that traps you in your home; the cold that requires you to wear a sweater all the time, indoors and out, and necessitates you pile on a heavy coat outside as you scrape the ice off your car each day. Not for me. I’ll visit the cold for a ski weekend, then jet-set back to my tropical season-less sanctuary.

Selena hates the heat. I don’t think she necessarily loves the cold either, (although she does adore wearing her horrendous blue poofy trench coat). Given a choice of anywhere at all, she would move us north, and fight tooth-and-nail against heading towards any tropical location.

Unlike so may issues we come across where one of us caves, such as the porch furniture (she’s tolerating), the silverware tray (I conceded), the coat rack (I’ve made amends), the candle and the spoon-rest (both have gone missing), we are both fairly dug in on this one and not budging. Fortunately, it’s a non-issue for now, cause we both enjoy living here in the mid-Atlantic, and are taking pride in making our little condo in Rockville our home.