Cutting Season

 Today doesn't feel like a Spring day. It is cloudy, windy, and cold. I don't think the temperature got about the low 40's. But the blossoms on our chimeric cherry tree are about gone, and the grass is growing. I should mow the lawn this weekend, despite the cold.

I don't like lawns much. They're all right when you play on them, but we don't. Since I read about the history of lawns, I totally lost interest in having one. They are an artifact of the French aristocracy from before the Revolution. A status symbol. I don't need a status symbol. I'd rather dispose of the lawn entirely, but I don't know if that's allowed in this community.

I also don't know what to replace the lawn with. That would take research, to see what is allowed and what is possible, and within a budget I would have to create. I suppose we could just plant so many trees in the yard that the lawn wouldn't grow for lack of light. It would take some time for trees to grow large enough to cause that much shade, but I'm not in a hurry, I guess.

I don't enjoy mowing the lawn anymore. I once did. As a kid, back in Nevada, I mowed the lawn for our chapel in the Indian Springs Branch, our congregation of the Mormon church. I understand that the current president of the Mormon church has said they should not be referred to as "Mormons" anymore. He is a Prophet, Seer, and Revelator, the current mouthpiece for Heavenly Father on Earth, so his words should be taken seriously. By people who believe in his Heavenly Father, which is Mormons. But when I was young, maybe beginning when I was twelve, or a little younger, I started mowing the church lawn on their riding mower, which I thought was cool, and I would sing aloud as I drove the thing around and around the patches of lawn around the chapel.

The church there changed the landscaping sometime after I left Indian Spring, and now has a few trees, and no lawn, using a design that requires much less water. That is a good thing for a church in a very dry desert.

But here I have a lawn because I think it is required by the community, and I mow it to fit in. And I don't like it. I don't mind yard work, but I don't want to feel like I have to do it to fit in, or to try to make the place look nice. I don't care how my yard looks. Maybe I really should look up the rules, and see if I could change our yard into something more like the natural landscape of Central Ohio, whatever that would be like. Something that didn't require maintenance. That I think I would like.

Predicting the Future

 I have read a quote attributed to Niels Bohr that says, "Prediction is very difficult, especially about the future." I'm not sure he said it, or exactly what he meant, but I'm thinking about that. What else would your be predicting, if not the future? But predictions are not all created equal, and one can often predict the results of a simple experiment, for example.

I have a birthday every year, as is usually the case, and in America, a few months before my birthday I get an email suggesting I check my Social Security account. I think the idea is that when I approach retirement, or my 65th birthday for Medicare, the government agency would prefer that I plan ahead, and start the application process a few months before the day I should begin expecting the benefits.

I don't have a particularly good employment record. I didn't earn much money from work until I was nearly 28. Then I worked for about five years, and went back to school for four more years. I worked, living on a stiped, for two years, then suffered a breakdown. While on that stipend, I was being paid by the state, and had some money going to a state retirement system, and not into a Social Security account. After the breakdown, I earned no money for a full calendar year, and then some. I got a job two years later, but it was part time, and close to minimum wage. (I got a kick out of working for minimum wage with two doctoral degrees, and with the responsibility for protecting hundreds of millions of dollars worth of art.)

My part time work picked up some in the second or third year, and then I applied for a teaching job, and have been employed since then. My first teaching job was at a state community college, and so, again, paid into a retirement system, but not Social Security.

I believe that I have now reached enough years of employment in jobs paying into Social Security that I qualify for some level of benefits when I retire. I don't think I would get much if I stopped working now, and just took Social Security when I reached the right age. The website shows estimated benefits under different assumptions, but always assuming I keep working for my current wage until I retire.

That is where predicting the future comes in. One can retire and start getting Social Security benefits at 62, which is only four years away for me. The estimate is about $1,187 a month. If I work five more years beyond that, to the "full retirement age" for my cohort of American workers, I'd get $1,957 a month. Another 3 years, to 70, and I might get $2,622. So, how long will I live, and how much money will I need?

If I work until I'm 70, then die at the age my father did, I'll get $267,444, because I'd only be collecting for eight and half years. By the same age, retiring at 62, I'd get $235,026, but I'd have twice as many years of retirement. splitting the difference, and retiring according to the official schedule at 67, I'd get $270,066. So, if I'm going to die at the age my father did, I'd get the most money from Social Security by retiring at 67, not working until I'm 70. It's only a $3,000 dollar difference, but three years of time. What does that mean? For one thing, it means if I live four months longer than Dad did, I'd make get more money out of the system retiring at 70. Is three extra years of work worth that?

Mom is still alive, and is coming up on 82. What if I live for years longer than Dad did? How will my age at retirement affect Liz? There are a lot of questions to consider about all this.

For now, I'll keep working. Where is another matter, as I feel a certain pull to move West, following my children. And Grandchildren. Yeah.