Coming up on 2 years still enjoying it!

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I retired 24 years ago. I don't know how I ever found time to work.

Mark T

I retired 35 years ago and it was the worst thing which I ever did. I should have retired much earlier:mad:Retirement is the time when you can choose your friends and companions- and they can choose you.
Indeed, it often hard work to survive being old and to endure inevitable health problems. however, those who continue to work have the same problems but have to put up with people who you don't like and with failing health and faculties will do their best to bully and try you.

I wish retirees good fortune

Norman at almost 90
 
Screw You All!!!! I still have 20+ years of work. Ugh.
 
Long way off for me at 36 years young;) Funnily enough I was thinking about my retirement today. Oh such a distant dream........
 
I grew up in Grand Forks, had to leave the state in 84 to find work. As of today, I've been retired 6 years. Mental health has not been this good since high school. When I moved, I had a 12x24 Jet brand lathe, I got from Forks Electric Motor, poor thing was sitting out in their city desk show room.
Interesting article the Sun captured on you. Thanks for sharing.
 
Retirement. I love it , but I needed a dog to keep me active.
I have a new pup and machine time has been cut 90%
but walking time has been increased the same amount.
Just remember to keep the blood flowing, walk etc.
Just my 1.414 cents worth.
 
Don't wish your life away young man.
No! We must plan for death and we must plan for the future.
Jon, there's a farm on the border of us i.e. between the County Durham and Northumberland and Tyne and ear boundaries which has a stone carving across on of byres which reads:-

'Farm as if you will live forever, work as if you will die tomorrow'
 
I had 46 years in the Oil Field retired a year in April, I think I need to go back to work to get some rest, it sure takes a lot of adjusting, being gone a lot and now home a lot, don't think the wife is that pleased with me home that much, thank God for a shop.
 
Don't wish your life away young man.
Hi,

Certainly not wishing my life away, im currently in a job that I love, working with people that are actually normal. The boss is a double edge sword, but hes sound enough most of the time, and its amazing how quick time flies when your not dragging your feet at work. As Norm says, it was more a case of looking at pension pots ect, we have three guys at work that are wanting to retire within the next few years, one of them maybe this year. It has set me thinking forward to when I can retire, how much ill have to retire on and what I need to start putting away to make sure im comfortable when im older.
 
Just after I retired an older Lady living close by stop and asked if I would help her organize and sell off things at her place her husband not able to walk any more and health fading fast, I agree because I knew it was the right thing to do, been there a year in April, several antique trucks some far back as the 30's got the cleaned polished show room read and sold them, got several antique restore tractors to go, then to get rid of a lot of old tractor parts and old things he collected over the years, some days I just get tired and come home and rest, she has payed me good commission, and gave me a 21" South Bend lathe with all the tooling that could be bought with it, 9" Logan Lathe and a big camel back drill press (Royersford 21 inch) I hope to be done by July, I told her that I wanted to back to work and get some rest and when we done I want a divorce, she is 77 she just smiled and said go to the shop, sell more stuff, so if you retire and the older Lady show up at the door and ask for help run, live, love and enjoy life, it really short, Joe
 
A few years ago an old man asked me to have a look around in my shop. He seemed to be satisfied after 20 minutes, saying I should come around and collect some of his tools. Why I asked. I'm 93 and my hand are not capable to wield tools anymore, he said. Three weeks later I called upon him and after a cup of coffee he invited me to go to his second stock, have a look and after one hour I came down with two buckets full of his tools and things. We did another coffee and he wanted to see what I had collected in the two buckets. I showed him all the pieces and he said he needed that set of pliers and this pipe wrench and that hammer. These had to go back. I brought 1 1/2 bucket bach to were I found them. Second time coming down he made me promise that he could ask some of his tools back if he needed them. Of course. A few weeks ago I heard he passed away and told his nurse the story. We both agreed that it is a bad day parting with your tools. Every time I see my bench power supply with the former owner's name on it printed I still agree.
 
Funny how we connect to tools from our past
I have a metal piercing saw that belonged to a true gentleman from the days when I was a snotty nosed apprentice. Every time I use it, it always brings back very happy memories of its long gone owner.
I often catch myself using some of his sayings when things have gone wrong.
 
Regarding the connection to old tools:

My father passed 4 weeks ago, and before he died, I asked if I could have his set of planes. I was taught the use of them when he was building one of our houses when I was six years old, and still remember the thrill of watching that beautifully formed hardwood curl coming off of his well sharpened joiner plane, and the solid feel of his jack plane in my very small hands.

As he was a finish carpenter in those days, I was “apprenticed”(?) into the fine art of 3 and 4 piece base, casing and hanging a door, and finishing the jamb and stop. Of course, this was in the days before power miter saws, pneumatic nailers and screw guns, so I was also taught the use of the Miller’s Falls box and backed saw, a block plane, a brace and bit, a Yankee screw driver, and the reason for pre-drilling nail holes in very expensive finish components before nailing and setting...

Anyway, when I hold those finely made and cared for tools today, I hearken back to a time of wonder in education in the finer arts of construction, the beauty of a job worth doing-being done well, and the pure satisfaction in a young boy seeing his first pieces of a project done right and the pride in a father’s eyes as he watched it being done.

Thanks for the trip down memory lane, and while I didn’t get along with my dad very well later in life, when I handle those planes, and stone a razor sharp edge on the irons, it makes the bad experiences melt away to a simpler time...
 
My dear old father- long gone, made everything apart from a brass folding two foot rule and a stick of French chalk. We were too poor to buy things then, Dad made them whilst my Mother taught me how to use a sewing machine by stitching old newspapers. I've still got a little axe that Dad made on the anvil and when we got a bit richer, an 'electric' sewing machine. Between Dad and myself we grew and sold spinach to pay my school fees.
As Dad, a farrier, laying dying he commented about my late wife who 'would take me over jumps, hurdles and ditches in Life which I never would have thought possible' He was right.
Along my way, I had a Freemason as a boss. I was just out of school and he taught me how to think. I suppose that isn't a secret:D
 

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