For a Bit Longer

A couple of weeks ago, DW and I visited with our financial advisor to look at our current situation and to make plans for the future. And because I've recently turned 60, my thoughts naturally fell to retirement.

For a couple of years, I thought it would be nice to retire at 63. There's nothing special about that number, though I would be one year younger than my dad was when he died. It's just that, two years ago, when I really started wondering if I'd be able to retire in the near future, five years crept into my head.

Two years down: three more to go, by that reckoning.

In visiting with our financial planner, DW and I found out that we're in good shape. If I retire at 63, I should be able to live under my current quality-of-life standards for 30 years. Mind you, I don't expect to live to 93. It's just not in my genes.

"What about if I were to retire tomorrow?" I asked, but DW shut me down. Her plans are to work for another five years and she doesn't want me lazing about the house.

Since our trip, in 2022, to Portugal, I've been suggesting that we retire in Porto. I fell in love with that city immediately and could picture us living there. DW was reluctant but in recent months, she's been warming to the idea of living overseas.

We'll buy a modest place but with a sizable guest room for family and friends to visit whenever, I told her. "I wouldn't expect anybody to stick around Ottawa for us," I added, "so why should we do the same?"

It's a few years away, anyway. We'd wait until DW retires before making any decision on where we want to spend our retirement.

But there's another fly in the ointment: the crap that's going on with our southern neighbour and the BS of the Orange Felon trying to annex Canada. We'll stay and fight that battle.

Which means, we'll be sticking in Canada for a bit longer.

Thanks to TFG, though we both plan to be retired within the next five years, our retirement plans are now on hold.

Stay tuned.