A friend once opined that the supposed lure of "retirement" was a shuck; that after "retirement" he worked harder than he ever did on a job. After a brief stint as a "wage slave" for Western Auto I partnered with a fellow and we evolved through building "vacation cabins" to building high-end custom homes for about 30 years (with never a call-back), while I "wintered over" restoring antiques for dealers in Santa Fe, mostly.
Then came ~19 years believing I had Parkinson's Disease, about half-way through which I couldn't write legibly, use my cabinet-makers' chisels, guide a welding rod, etc., etc. Turns out I had GMO (Genetically Modified Organism) poisoning and when I eliminated all GMOs from my diet, the physical Parkinson's-LIKE symptoms disappeared in something around 12 days. (The mental "stuff" has taken awhile longer to reverse.) That was a year ago and I recently turned 69.
Currently I'm "fire mitigating" (thinning, pruning, etc.) 88 acres of forest in the panhandle of Idaho (~36 acres done so far) and adjusting to the idea that I can do anything I choose to do. NOW, amongst other tom-foolery, I get to pass along — think: sell off — many of the tools I've "rescued" over the years and I just need to learn how to take GOOD photos to market them. (I never caught the shutter-bug bug.) My brother is gifting me with a tripod to help with the "GOOD" part, and ain't the sky the limit afterwards? (I'm a huge fan of auctions, let it be said, particularly those with boxes of rusty, unidentified "stuff" that no one [but me] is willing to deal with.)
"Retirement?" What's that? Feel free to color me strange, but be gentle because I'm ticklish. I have a photo of my paternal g'father, taken in early-summer of 1962, wearing a jean-jacket(!) and about to apply a grub hoe to some stuff he wanted to eliminate on his 350 acres of Cossatot(sp?) River-bottom land in SW Arkansas. He was 93 at the time and passed on at 97 after turning that land from jungle into parkland, by some folks' lights. He wore out rather than rusted out, and since '62 I've taken that as my life-plan. What am I gonna do otherwise, rock back and forth and keep tabs on the soaps? Oh, and I'm also planning to renovate my "hunter's cabin" so my dog-friend and I can live on less than the 7 cords of heating/cooking fuel a year we use right now. With some younger help on the driving-end of chainsaws, our (and their) wood-needs are happening.
Mind you, I'm not the least bit judgmental over how others have arranged for their "retirement years." I'm especially turned on by how so many in here have massaged their foci from "working for a living" into digging into the origins, manufacturers and so on of TOOLS. I believe (and am thankful that) there's room enuf in life a'plenty for all of us.
Lastly, I'll at least admit that tonight I'm tired (as usual) — but not REtired. *he grins*