Retirement didn't exactly mean slowing down for Bonnie and Hunter Moore.

The Moores, both 71, have lived near the Vanderbilt campus in Nashville for over 40 years. They bought their home in 1983, raising their two children and building their careers. Bonnie was a proofreader, while Hunter worked in the music industry.

When they retired in 2019, they were excited to have more time for their passions. For Hunter, that includes reading, playing the piano, working on model trains, and independent study (he's currently working on a dissertation for fun). Bonnie loves entertaining her friends — especially in her "Not Your Mother's Bible Study" group — hosting her grandsons, and traveling.

By 2023, though, it was clear their home base wasn't set up to help them thrive in retirement, as their bedroom, office, and music studio were all on the second floor. After caring for their own aging parents, they knew second-floor living wasn't ideal for aging in place, particularly when Hunter developed vertigo that made climbing stairs unsafe.

Bonnie and Hunter didn't want their adult children worrying about them as they got older, as they had worried about their parents. Instead, the Moores hoped to set themselves up to live independently for as long as possible — and have fun while doing it.

Luckily, the house next door was the perfect solution to their problem.

The Moores bought the house next door as a rental property in 2007.

The Moores bought the rental house, which provided supplemental income, in 2007 for $360,000. At 1,400 square feet, it had three bedrooms and two bathrooms.

The front couldn't be changed too drastically because the Moores live in a historic area, but their lot had space in the back where they could expand the home.

As they realized they wanted to upsize for retirement from their 2,700-square-foot home, Bonnie and Hunter decided to do a massive overhaul of the rental house, taking it down to the studs.

The renovation, which added a two-story addition to the back, gave them a 4,400-square-foot space with four bedrooms, four bathrooms, and two half baths, plus ample living space and a bonus room that could be converted into a bedroom if needed.

They also incorporated features that would make aging in place easier.

The house took over a year to transform.

The Moores hired Michael Brown Construction, Beth Haley Designs, and Allard Ward Architects to bring the project to life. Brown specialized in historic renovations, and Haley had an expertise in aging-in-place accommodations, both of which were needed.

Renovations kicked off in early 2024 and took about 18 months to complete. Because they gutted the original structure, the Moores had to pay for all new plumbing and electrical wiring throughout the home in addition to the cosmetic changes. The height of the original exterior stayed the same, and the windows that were originally there didn't move. Nearly everything else changed, though.

The Moores were able to stay in their first home while they transformed their new house, which, Bonnie said, made everything easier.

"We didn't have to move," she said. "We could look out the window and notice somebody was walking around, and go over to see if they needed to talk to us. It was wonderful."

First-floor living was a priority in the design.

It was important to the Moores that the addition had a second story so they'd have plenty of bedrooms for their kids, grandkids, and loved ones to stay in when they visited.

However, they wanted the first floor to be where they spent most of their time. It needed to accommodate larger parties, such as their Christmas gatherings or Bonnie's Bible study group, and their bedroom had to be on the main level as well.

An open-concept design on the first floor was perfect for the Moores.

The kitchen and living areas are combined in the Moores' home, with large windows and sliding glass doors framing the space and letting in light.

A table helps to visually separate the kitchen from the living area.

The large kitchen was a huge upgrade.

"My kitchen is probably about the size of part of my downstairs next door," Bonnie said of the space, which features a large island surrounded by ample built-in cabinetry.

It also has a walk-in pantry, one of Bonnie's favorite features, and was set up to suit the couple as they get older, with wide walkways and doorways. A few of the drawers also have large gaps behind them, so you can reach behind them without jamming your fingers.

There are two living spaces on the main floor.

The first floor has a larger living room with a TV, and another with two comfortable chairs in front of the fireplace, which the Moores think of as their den. A grand piano splits the two spaces.

Bonnie also said they had the fireplace raised intentionally.

"As you're sitting in your chair, you're looking straight into the fireplace instead of looking down," she said. "When you're old, you don't want to have to bend over as much, so you raise things in that way without it looking weird."

The Moores also felt free to get creative with how they used their rooms.

The house came with a formal dining room, but the Moores didn't feel they needed that space, since they had a dining area at their kitchen counter and kitchen table.

Instead, they turned it into a workout room and office for Bonnie.

It has a treadmill, a weight machine, and a desk. However, it could easily still work as a dining space or even a bedroom down the line if needed.

"We kept it with the feel of a dining room in case somebody wanted that for resale," Bonnie said.

The Moores didn't want to waste any space in their home.

To maximize the space, they put shelving wherever possible. For instance, Bonnie turned the space below their stairs into a "hobbit hole" for her grandsons, filling it with a bean bag and books as an escape for them.

"I used every place that you could store something," she said.

Their home library can also serve multiple purposes.

Bonnie described Hunter as a "voracious reader," so a library was a must-have for their home.

Still, the room has a closet and an en suite bathroom, and it could fit a smaller bed or a Murphy bed, so it could become another first-floor bedroom if the Moores ever need live-in help.

The primary suite sits on the first floor.

Bonnie and Hunter's bedroom has plenty of room for the couple to walk around the bed on either side, which was intentional. They didn't want the space to become cumbersome if they use wheelchairs or walkers someday.

It also has a loveseat, which Bonnie said they added so they can sit and put on their shoes without bending down.

There's plenty of storage in the bedroom.

The suite has a walk-in closet, one of Bonnie's favorite features in her new home.

Its blue cabinetry matches that in the bathroom for a cohesive look.

The bathroom is both luxurious and long-term-minded.

The bathroom is designed to accommodate a walker or wheelchair with ease.

It has luxury touches, like a double vanity and a massive walk-in shower with grab bars and a bench running the length of the shower for aging-in-place accommodations.

They also made the showerhead adjustable, which was a must-have because Bonnie is 5-foot-4 and Hunter is 6-foot-2. Bonnie wanted to make sure the height could adjust easily with one hand in case they developed any mobility issues, and that function has already come in handy.

Bonnie had a mastectomy in August and wasn't able to lift her arms above her head in the initial weeks of her recovery. Being able to adjust the showerhead height on her own during that time allowed her to maintain her independence as she healed.

They also have a laundry room in their en suite.

The location of the laundry room means the Moores can live entirely on their first floor if they want, ensuring they don't have to use stairs if it becomes challenging for them.

The Moores will never have trouble reaching the second floor of their home, though.

The Moores didn't want their second floor to become inaccessible if stairs became harder for them to manage as they age, so they decided to add an elevator to the home in the renovation.

It was a pricey aspect of the renovation, coming in at around $31,000, which doesn't include the cost of building out the space for it or installation.

Bonnie said the elevator was worth it, though, as it feels "responsible" for her and Hunter at this stage. It's a big comfort to their kids, too.

"They're so relieved that we aren't going up and down the stairs," Bonnie said.

The elevator sits next to a room where Bonnie stores things like Christmas decor and luggage, and she said being able to pop items directly into the elevator has been great for them.

There are two bedrooms upstairs.

One of the bedrooms has twin beds for the Moores' grandsons to enjoy, and it connects to Hunter's office (which could also be turned into a bedroom if needed) via a Jack-and-Jill bathroom.

The other bedroom on the second floor has an en suite bathroom, providing privacy for whoever stays there.

There's an additional living area upstairs as well.

An open area at the top of the stairs has a wet bar, a mini fridge, and a cozy seating area.

The Moores love having an additional flex space for their family or friends to enjoy when they come to visit.

The garage serves multiple purposes.

The Moores didn't have a large garage at their old home, so they were excited about the detached, two-car garage on their new property.

They finished a space at the back with a half bathroom and a room for Hunter to work on his model trains. The space has vaulted ceilings for a more luxurious look, which Bonnie said they added with the home's resale value in mind.

There's an unfinished attic in the garage as well, which gives the Moores the option to expand their living space further if they want.

"If one of our kids wanted to live over there and finish it, they could," Bonnie said.

The Moores' home is everything they hoped it would be.

The Moores moved into their home in August 2025, and they've been loving it ever since.

"This is our dream house," Bonnie said. "We are so grateful that we could do this because we put everything we possibly wanted."

"When we sit at our dining room table and eat breakfast, I tell my husband every morning, 'I'm so happy,'" she added.

Hunter echoed Bonnie, saying the renovation "seemed like a huge project," but their design team made it manageable, as did being able to bounce ideas off Bonnie.

"I'm so glad we did it," he added.

It's working well for their community, too. Bonnie said the house has made their guests feel at ease when they've hosted parties and had people stay overnight.

"It's better than I thought it would even turn out, and the way it makes us feel is just very peaceful," Bonnie said. "My kids all love it, and we have room for everybody. I host all the holidays and the birthday parties."

The renovation was worth the investment.

In total, the Moores said they spent about $1.7 million turning their rental property into their dream home. That cost includes furniture upgrades and some exterior stonework to ensure the house looks up to date from the outside.

They were able to offset it with the $850,000 sale of their first home, and Bonnie said she views the work they did as an investment in the future, for both themselves and their kids.

"This allows us to stay in our house as long as we possibly can, and if we can't, then we have designed a house that will probably sell for $1.9 million," she said. "Our kids can sell it, pay for wherever we need to be, or it can be a great inheritance for them."

She and Hunter feel only gratitude that they could create a house that will benefit them and their whole family for years to come.

"The sooner you do it, the more you can enjoy it before you really need it," she said. "And it's a relief for your children. It's the best gift we could give them."

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Siobhan MacDermott, a 56-year-old tech founder based in Menlo Park, California. It's been edited for length and clarity.

I've never been underqualified for any job that I've applied to.

I was vice chair at Bank of America and principal at EY. I held senior roles in cybersecurity at AVG and McAfee. I've sat in boardrooms with Fortune 500 CEOs, advised governments, and built practices from scratch.

Then, in early 2024, when I was 54, I had to relocate from New York City to California for family reasons, leaving the management consulting job I'd held as a partner at The Consello Group. I didn't anticipate what could happen when someone tries to re-enter the institutional world in their 50s — particularly as a woman in a career space that doesn't fit neatly into a job description.

The most surprising barrier has been the gap between what I've actually done and what the market knows how to categorize. I'm worried because I'm not sure where the economy is heading, but I'm an absolute eternal optimist.

I'm not going to accept anything other than staying hopeful.

I felt like my job application was going into the ether

It's been frustrating to watch organizations that desperately need exactly what I've built not hire me.

When I started my job search, I reached out to my network to try to figure out what I could do, who'd vouch for me, and where open positions were. A lot of senior roles were being downsized, but I had a lot of people who initially wanted to help me find something.

The strategies that were a complete waste of time were LinkedIn Easy Apply, recruiter calls that went nowhere, and any process that involved a 45-minute competency-based interview with someone who'd never heard of the big companies I've worked for.

I spent the better portion of every day for over a year applying and looking for jobs. I obsessively searched on LinkedIn for new positions, applying over and over again on the site, company websites, emails, and more, but getting nowhere.

I sent out countless résumés and barely got any responses. These are jobs that I know I'm qualified or overqualified to do, but sometimes I didn't even get the courtesy of the automated "thank you for applying" response.

It was like my application went into the ether. I'd try to find the head of HR for these companies on LinkedIn and reach out to them because I wanted the feedback.

I started trying to think of interesting ways to get attention

The strategy that worked the best during my job search was bypassing HR entirely and using direct outreach to CEOs and board members.

I'd send them letters not even related to a job, but more of an observation of their company to get their attention. I tried to be crafty, saying, "Based on my external assessment of your company, here are some things that I think you should be doing as you think through your next quarter."

Reaching out to CEOs got me in the door, but then they'd send me down to somebody who was pretty junior who'd say, "You're overqualified for this job." They'd courtesy interview me because they'd been told to, but it didn't go beyond that.

Sometimes a CEO would send me to HR, and HR would look at my skill set and say, "It doesn't quite match."

That happened quite a few times.

I adjusted my LinkedIn profile to get a better response, and that helped

I changed my gender to male and back to female a bunch of times to see if it made a difference — I didn't change my pronouns, just my actual gender. I felt like I had more responses on LinkedIn being thought to be male than female.

I also think being in Silicon Valley, you age out a lot faster than you do in other parts of the US, and it's definitely a highly male- dominated space. I had those two things working against me from the get-go.

So I removed the first six years of my career from my work experience on LinkedIn, and I took the dates off of my degrees so that people couldn't tell my age. This made me seem seven to 10 years younger, potentially. Once I took those dates off, I felt like I got more engagement on the site.

My job search in Silicon Valley went nowhere, so I decided to pivot and launch my own venture

I started my company out of necessity, and also out of intellectual boredom. I felt like my brain was starting to rot.

It happened about a year into job searching, when I started feeling financial pressure and frustration. I didn't want my full-time job to be looking for a job. My search wasn't looking like it was going anywhere in the foreseeable future, especially out in Silicon Valley. If you're a computer scientist or an engineer, there are jobs available, but I couldn't find a lot out here not in that space.

I started thinking, what am I good at? What do I know? What are all the pieces that I could put together? What problem can I identify that needs to be solved? That came together pretty quickly, and I launched two companies — Khaos Holdings, a strategic risk-intelligence company, and TeenAegis, a child-safety intelligence business, in January.

We're raising capital, and if the capital comes in, that will be the end of my job search. If the capital doesn't come in, then I'll keep searching — but I've decided that whatever I do will be adjacent to the problem I'm trying to solve now.

One good thing came out of the 2 years since my last job

Being out of work for two years shifted my retirement timeline eight to 10 years from digging into savings. However, since my job search started, I've really homed in on what I want to do with the rest of my career.

The journey I went on was a little bit of a midlife crisis. I asked myself, "What's my purpose in life?" as opposed to "What job do I want to have?" and then identified what skill set could bring me to that.

What led me to where I am was really thinking through questions like: What are all the issues that matter to me? What legacy do I want to leave? How do I want to think about my future for the next 10 or 15 years? How do I want to show up every day?

In the beginning, I was going to apply to anything that I could qualify for that would get me some money. Now I'm not going to do that because I don't think that's going to actually be fulfilling or make me happy. My sense of stability has required a deliberate reframe — from "security comes from a salary" to "security comes from what I've built and what I know."

I'm determined to make this work, but I also realize it may not

The hardest thing is maintaining a positive attitude day after day. If my company doesn't work out, then it's not like I can stop trying.

Taking mental health breaks is important because it's overwhelming, lonely, and hard. You lose your sense of self-worth when you're in this position; people look at you like, "Oh, you're the person who's still looking for a job." So it's hard to continue to put yourself out there.

Still, I do believe there's light at the end of the tunnel. It's just the question of how long the tunnel is.

Do you have a story to share about navigating your career in your 50s? If so, please reach out to the editor, Manseen Logan, at mlogan@businessinsider.com.

• I've worked as a wedding photographer for years, and I've seen couples make the same mistakes.
• Too many people schedule the day to the minute and don't get the chance to enjoy their wedding.
• Not budgeting for the right photographer and videographer can lead to disappointing results.

I've been photographing weddings for over a decade, so I've witnessed countless ceremonies and receptions — some disastrous, others impeccable.

Throughout the years, I've also watched couples make the same mistakes over and over. Here are a few I wish they'd avoid.

Filling the day-of schedule with way too much

Couples have to find time for the ceremony, photos, eating and drinking, dancing, talking to the people they invited, and connecting with each other.

When you try to fit too many things into the day, no one — especially the married couple — has time to breathe and relish the moments. The day can feel rushed and more focused on activities than the celebration of love.

A packed schedule often leaves couples stressed, with no time to eat because they've been pushed from one 15-minute window to the next.

However, your wedding day shouldn't be a blur. You should have time to soak in every moment. When you map out your day, prioritize traditions you love and estimate how long each will take … then add buffers.

I also recommend working with a wedding planner or coordinator to plan your timeline, or consulting with your photographer and other vendors when arranging your schedule. They've experienced countless weddings and know firsthand how much time each activity usually takes.

Letting small mishaps and issues ruin the whole day

One of the things I always tell my couples right before their wedding day is that something will go wrong.

I don't say this to scare them or make them worry, but mostly to adjust their expectations. No matter how much planning you do, people are imperfect, the weather can be unpredictable, and life happens.

By the time the day comes, couples have done all they can to make sure it's how they pictured it. All that matters after that is that they enjoy their wedding.

Missing flowers or a cake that's the wrong flavor can throw off your day — but these unexpected mishaps shouldn't be so consuming that they're all you remember from your wedding.

I don't want to witness any more miserable couples desperately trying to fix details that will never be exactly right. Please try to roll with the punches on your wedding day.

Hiring the wrong photographer or videographer

I may be a bit biased, but I strongly believe having important memories properly documented in photo and video form is priceless.

I've also heard from countless married couples who regret booking a subpar photographer or skipping a videographer.

When hiring any vendors — especially these — choose carefully. You're paying someone to use their physical and creative energy to tell the story of your wedding.

Ask a ton of questions and make sure you love their style by viewing their portfolios and websites. It can also help to hop on a phone call or video meeting — couples should esnsure they vibe with their photo and video team on a personal level because they'll be spending a lot of time with them on the big day.

Planning the wedding they think they should have instead of the one they actually want

Weddings are for the couple, so they should do what they want.

I see so many of them spend thousands of dollars and devote countless hours to planning, only to celebrate their love the way they think they're supposed to — not how they'd actually like.

Your wedding should be unique to you, and it doesn't need to look like everyone else's. If you wish to elope in the forest or plan a ball inspired by "Bridgerton" in a mansion, go for it.

The couple is at the core of the celebration, so why shouldn't everything be based on who they are and what matters most to them? 

Consider this my official public service announcement: Your wedding can — and should — be fun, unique, and meaningful to you. 

This story was originally published in June 2021 and most recently updated on October 23, 2026.

The Guardian’s picture editors select photographs from around the world

Little-known photographer John Baer captured everyday life before putting down his camera in 1954. His son discovered the images decades later after his death, and John Baer: The Extraordinary Ordinary / A Memoir in Photographs, 1945–1954 marks their first public release

There’s nothing like walking into a pub and sitting down at an empty stool where your regular order awaits you. You have been seen; it’s a singular feeling of camaraderie and community. Club 2101, a dive bar in Oakland California, opens around 8 am each day. For The Oaklandside, Azucena Rasilla profiles a 16-hour-day in the life of the 80-year-old haunt, a story as colorful as the dedicated regulars who frequent the establishment, many of them captured in evocative photos by Sarahbeth Maney.

Another regular, Steve Powell, puts on the jukebox’s first song of the day, Stevie Ray Vaughan’s “Texas Flood,” and just as Vaughan’s guitar solo builds, another Breakfast Club member walks in: 71-year-old Kurt Meyer. Perez says Meyer had a health scare a few months ago; Perez is happy to see Meyer get back to his routine of hanging out with the crew. 

By 11:30 a.m., the ice chest is in need of a refill and the bar starts to settle down. There are about a dozen people inside, some playing pool, others chatting or reading the newspaper. A few attentively watch the horse races now playing on the TV screens.

George is the first of the early morning crew to call it quits and catch the bus home. Winn and Altamonte follow shortly after. 

“All of these regulars are not just customers,” Perez says. “They are friends and family.”

In this edition: loving a killer; GRASE under fire; the marvelous mundane; Texas on two wheels; and the man who would be T. rex king.

He dresses up for his labor of love, always wearing a white shirt, a silk tie, and a blue four-pocket French work coat as he documents Nashville, Tennessee, moment-by-moment behind the lens of his Leica. Ray Di Pietro started photographing people and events in the city nine years ago and uses precise composition and framing to tell the story of the city and its people.

Di Pietro’s inspiration comes from a surprising place. Andy Warhol, one of his favorite artists (he has several authentic Warhol works), kept a meticulous record of how he spent his days for the 10 years leading up to his death. In 1989, the pop artist’s secretary-turned-collaborator, Pat Hackett, published the notes in a book called The Andy Warhol Diaries.

Warhol, of course, was famously obtuse and provocative. But stories of the flash and dash of the artist’s fame — the crazy parties at The Factory, Warhol’s legendarily debauched, silver foil-papered studio and clubhouse — weren’t necessarily what interested Di Pietro about the conceit. Nor did Warhol’s habit of recording appointments or expenses of the day, including doctors visits, meals, even the price of cab rides. Di Pietro admires Warhol as an accidental historian who documented global figures while recording his daily routine, whether his subjects were Jimmy Carter and the empress of Iran or Mick Jagger and Lou Reed. “He’s writing world history without knowing that it’s world history,” Di Pietro marvels.