Given the impossibility of saving up much for retirement and still keep Roseholme Cottage paid for, lit, heated and maybe even painted, I'm forced to admit the H. Beam Piper retirement plan could be a viable option, come the day. It's got to be a better deal than Social Security and Medicare.
Like Piper, I've no strong attachments, especially since my cats are gone. This may be a minor reason* why I am resisting even looking for another cat; another long-lived pet could be around for my own Golden Years. Of course, we'd eat the same brand of cat food.
Update: No, no no, I am in no wise about to it down facing the sea, pen a haiku, and eviscerate myself. Or anything even slightly picturesque. I was taking the long view into a dim future and not liking what I saw; so I made fun of it. As for H. Beam Piper, I admire him for picking his own time. "Tragic," everyone says. Well, sure, he had money coming, but at the time, SF paid a pittance. It might not have made enough difference; we'll never know. The tragedy is our own: we have a lot fewer Piper stories to read than we might have had.
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* Major reason, I still miss them. I find myself looking forward to being in the office and spending time with the cats...and then remembering they won't be there.
Update
3 days ago
11 comments:
From experience with Partner and his geriatric pomeriranians, the pets eat better.
I certainly hope you're talking about his diet (pigeons) and not his suicide.
Pigeon is delicious! They're closely related to mourning doves you know which is the most flavorful meat I've ever eaten.
If you do decide you'd like another cat or two, I have a couple of kittens who are adorable and could use a good home.
Hey! Hey, now! Remember, when he shot himself, Piper's agent was trying to get a check to him. All was not lost.
Piper committed suicide because he thought he could no longer support himself. Which was completely bogus; the '80's Piper revival proved that. You, on the other hand, haven't even tried to publish I Work On A Starship... :)
I'll echo Eagle and add that I know for a fact that our barn cats love pigeon.
Your post has me worried. Please reassure us that you're ok.
This is why I don't publish my darker musings, or say them aloud except in front of Stingray, who by now has a well developed sense that my speculations go pretty much everywhere without necessarily portending anything dire.
That said, that nonhuman companion shaped hole is, I find, not entirely individual and it's healthier for me at least to keep it occupied over the longer term than not.
HBP suffered from an ego that would not allow him to accept failure or help.
Rosehome sound's like the perfect place for a B&B, even if you relocate to a less expensive state.
At the very least you could foster an old biddie's home for whoever wanted to hang out for awhile.;-)
My retirement is a looooong way away, fear not. By then, writing may be a supplemental income.
Or it may not. Better to make a Plan B now.
Too Ghu-damned dark to even slightly resemble "humor"* for me.
You should certainly be able to sell your Tales of the Hidden Frontier. I bet your regular readers could gang up on everyone else on Baen's Bar, and demand it.
And you certainly have enough time left to be able to provide a home for more fur persons. (I admit that, when Pretty Kitty and Fuzzy Kitten left us, if we had not already had Ratbane and Sparrowbane, I probably would have resisted letting anymore Fur Persons into my life.)
*Unless you mean it in the Greco-Roman medical sense of "black bile", or "spleen". Consider a virtual hug to have been offered...)(Huh. The Wikipedia article on "Humorism" lists the MBTI "types" associated with each of the four humors...
My retirement plan was to marry a rich widow with a bad heart. But then I went and fell in love with my Wench.
Now if we can just keep the VA Lottery from giving our money to other people ...
Hey, at least he went out stubborn and cranky! And he remembered to shut off the utilities, and put down drop cloths to catch the splatter!
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