So, What is next?

I didn’t set out to write a blog about condo living.  The truth is, the condo is just where I happen to be.  The life part — that’s what I’m figuring out as I go.

For our last twenty years together, Pam and I lived on a farm in Maine. We were home‑bodies by choice. We didn’t chase nightlife or travel much. Our social life was built around family, friends, and the simple comfort of being home. When Pam got sick, that life became even smaller, but also more meaningful. We kept her at home, as she wanted, until the very end.   I’m grateful for that every day.

Now I live alone in a condo, and while the scenery has changed, I’m still very much the same person. I don’t expect to become a social butterfly. I’ll host family and friends when I can, but most of my time will be spent right here — in the kitchen, in the garage, or out by the flowers.

What fills my days?  I’ve always been the primary cook in the family. Pam was good at it, but for her it was work. For me, it’s something closer to comfort. These days I bake a lot — bread, coffee cake, cheesecake. Our daughters grew up on my macaroni & cheese, and one of them even went on to earn a degree in Baking & Pastry. She’s the sourdough expert now.

During Pam’s illness, I started something called Sista’s Lunch — a monthly lunch for her sisters and mine. It brought her so much joy. Those lunches continued right up until she passed, and they remain some of my favorite memories.

Woodworking (or “puttering,” if we’re being honest)
I’m not a master craftsman. I’m a tinkerer. A hacker.
But I enjoy it. I’m building a small workshop in the garage — including a rolling workstation with a table saw on one end and a router on the other. It’s on wheels so I can still fit the Jeep in during winter. My father had a real gift for seeing a need and fabricating a solution. I’m not at his level, but I like trying.

When I moved in, the walkway was lined with oversized shrubs. They’re gone now, replaced with hostas, hydrangeas, and roses. I built my own flower boxes for the deck after the store‑bought ones fell apart. There’s something satisfying about tending to living things, even on a small scale.

It’s been two years since Pam left us. I’m proud of the care we gave her, and I’m grateful for the time we had. But I miss the little things — the hallway hugs, the shared news stories, the way she lit up flipping through her high school yearbook with her sister. Christmas was her favorite holiday, and she decorated with a precision that still makes me smile.

This blog isn’t about grief, but grief is part of the story.
It’s about continuing on — cooking, building, planting, remembering — and finding a life that feels honest and steady in this new chapter.

If you’re here, thanks for reading.  This is just me, living condo life in the only way I know how.