It's a Small, Small World

Should I regret the purchase of
these as my gumboots?

I’ve often thought that it is a small world we live in, and that it’s risky to do something that I may regret because sure as eggs, someone who knows me will be there to see it. Even when I was travelling a long way from home, this thought was in my head.  I can’t say it ever really stopped me from doing anything, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if, just after I had done something, I’d heard a familiar voice call out “hey Joy!”.

My parents had an uncanny knack of running into people from Parkes, where I grew up, when travelling. They could be in Far North Queensland, or in Europe somewhere, only to run into someone who lives just up the road. Each didn’t know the other was travelling, so hadn’t arranged to be in the same place – it just happened. This was one of my first indicators that the world is small.

Then when I was working for a small company in Sydney (total employees of maybe 20?), my mother commented that the company must be going OK since we were hiring new people. Now that was information that was news to me, so how on earth did she know that? Turns out that the mother of the new employee lives directly opposite my Mum in Parkes, and they’d been chatting (as you do). I also knew the new guy quite well, because he had been in the same class at school as my little brother. Small World.

Then when I was leaving my last job to retire, I was asked to interview one of the people who had applied for my job. I thought I recognised the name, and sure enough, he turned out to be the husband of a good friend of my sister. Small World.

Turns out, Bathurst is part of this small world too.

When we moved to Bathurst, we went into the bank to change the address details on an account. We got chatting to the person who looked after us, as you do (well, we had to wait for the computer system to do stuff), and not only did he go to school in Parkes, but my father was his teacher. Small World.

Spectators at our tennis venue

Before we moved to Bathurst, we knew just one person who lived here (apart from Real Estate agents and the person we bought our home from, and they don’t really count). We’ve been here 3 ½ months now, so we know a few more, but still not a lot. Then we went to a Christmas in July dinner on the weekend, at a little village halfway between Bathurst and Lithgow. Since it was a fund-raiser for the Bush Fire Brigade there, and we were there because I play tennis with someone who lives there, I wasn’t really expecting to know anyone else. But within minutes of sitting down at our table, we discovered that the husband of one of the tennis people is the boss of that one person we knew. Small World.

Kevin Bacon has a lot to answer for (the Kevin Bacon effect – you know – six degrees of separation?). I am now convinced that the world is small, and getting smaller. I still won’t really stop from doing anything because of it, but take it from me – there is a big risk that just after I have done something, I’ll hear a familiar voice call out “hey Joy!”.

Cross-Training

No, I’m not talking about exercise. I am a firm believer in regular and varied exercise being an important part of living a healthy life, but the cross-training I’m talking about is concerning just about everything else!

a holiday in Africa - before Les - organised
by me!

Once upon a time I was an independent, self-sufficient, competent person, who capably looked after herself (well, most of the time). I paid all my bills on time. I organised my holidays. I kept my home reasonably neat and tidy (in between visits by the cleaner, but then at least I knew I wasn’t much good at housework, so knew to outsource it). I knew how much money I had in the bank. I could mow the lawn. I painted the inside of my house. I could even put the garbage bins out!

But then along came Les. One thing with sharing my life with someone is we share the various tasks that need doing. When one of us was working and the other wasn’t, the jobs were divided up based on that. For example, the person at home did more of the housework and cooking. But most of the time, we have either both been working, or both been not working, and as a result the separation of duties is more even.  But we don’t each do everything.

We both cook meals, shared fairly evenly. We both clean our home, shared fairly evenly. But over time, a lot of the other jobs have become done by just one of us. This hasn’t been a deliberate thing, but rather because either that one person likes doing that particular thing, or has a lower tolerance for it not being done.

even on holidays, Les does the washing

So now Les looks after all the finances. Les organises our holidays and short breaks. Les tends to put the washing on. Les puts the garbage out. Les mows the lawn. I don’t even have to think about those things. I don’t take them for granted (well, not much, anyway), but I know I don’t have to worry about them.

That’s not a bad thing. Les is very good at doing those things. But what happens if something happens to Les? Could I go back to being an independent, self-sufficient, competent person, who capably looks after herself? The answer is Yes, but not without a considerable struggle.

So when we retired, we thought it would be a good thing to cross-train. I learnt how to pay the bills so the power doesn’t get cut off. I learnt how to reconcile the credit cards. I watched in amazement at how Les researches our holidays. I learnt (the hard way) how the lawn mower choke has been put on backwards, so On means Off. I learnt that even though I know perfectly well when and how to put the garbage out, I will have to put a reminder in my diary so I remember to do it.

some of my cross-training - how to be
safe when working with power tools

I also learnt that there isn’t much that I do that Les doesn’t also do. Les doesn’t know how I organise my clothes, so can’t properly put away all the clothes after they’ve been washed. But that’s probably about it – not a major challenge for him if something happens to me.

Occasionally I get a refresher course in my cross-training, but mostly we have gone back to the same way of doing things. Maybe I should put more effort into practising those skills I don’t use very often, but it is so much easier to just let things go as they are. I'm not sure that's the best thing for Les – but it works pretty well for me!

Variety is the Spice of Life

I knew it had been a while since my last blog post, I just hadn’t realised how long. But that kind of fits in well with my topic this time – how I’m dealing with the fact that I have so many things to do and not enough time!

One of the things I was really looking forward to in retirement was having the time to spend doing all the things I wanted to do but couldn’t because I didn’t have enough time. I was spending all that time going to work. I had so many ideas, things I wanted to try, things I wanted to get better at. It was exciting to think I could do them – at last!


One interest - doing cross-stitch

Another interest - making cards

But, and of course there is a but, it hasn’t worked out that way. Yes, I have way more time to do all those things, but I still don’t have enough time. Maybe I have too many ideas, too many things I want to try, too many things I want to get better at. Maybe I should cut things from the list. But which should I cut?

laying out for the coffee table I
started over a year ago

Maybe I should focus on just a few things, and give them more time. Then I could do them “properly”. I’ve heard the phrase that it takes “10,000 hours of practice to perfect a skill”, and the thought of that is pretty scary. 10,000 hours is an awful lot of practice. That’s a full time job for more than 6 years! And that’s just for one thing.  I gave up work so I could spend time on more things, not less.

Getting back to my point, though, is it a problem that I have so many things I want to do? Sometimes, yes. Sometimes it gets a bit overwhelming, and it’s easier to do none of them than to decide which one to do. Sometimes I think that not spending lots of time on one thing, and flitting between many projects, is a bad thing.


I’ve envied people who have a passion in life. I don’t have one passion. I have many interests! As a result, I won’t ever be able to spend enough time on any of them to be great at them. Instead, I spend as much time on them as makes me happy. I will try not to be too critical of my efforts, though. I will try to remember that I don’t need to be perfect at the skills – good enough will do.

working on another interest - the vegie patch
(yes, it was cold)

In my work life, I did OK by knowing a little about a lot of things. And I enjoyed the kind of work I did because I got to talk to lots of different people, and find out how many different people did their jobs. That was hugely interesting to me. And people kept paying me to do it! So maybe being easily bored, and liking variety, aren’t faults – that’s just the way I am.


So mostly, no, I don’t think having so many things that interest me is a problem. I just can’t do them all now. I will have to live to about 150 to get them all done, though. At least I know now that the answer to the question people asked me when I retired – “Won’t you get bored?” – is No.

another interest - making mosaics

yet another interest - making bags

Actually, thinking about it, that phrase about “10,000 hours” may well be one that, through repetition, has gone from a catchy phrase someone thought up, to something people think is true. Don’t believe everything you hear!