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Showing posts with the label Family

From Out of the Rabbit Hole

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 In my last blog post, to my shame almost 3 weeks ago now, I indicated that I was ready to get out and attack life again. Not one to do things by halves, I haven't really stopped, certainly not for long enough to write here. In fact it's all felt a bit Alice in Wonderlandish. Caree nods off to sleep, falls down a rabbit hole and wakes up in a mad, mad world.  So February has seen me dashing to London by train; spending days playing with Grandotty and her toys; catching up again with my fitness until my muscles have screamed in agony, grown tongues of their own and begged me to stop; on a whim repainting a kitchen door and then finding myself drawn into decorating the whole caboodle and it's still ongoing. We've even been to a Mad Hatter's tea party or was it my brother's 60th birthday lunch, followed by tea and cake? There have been catch ups with friends over coffee and more lunch, medical appointments and all the usual wider family get togethers, chores and v

The Joy of Grandparenting

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  We spent last week in the Lake District, treated to the torrential rain and wind provided by not one but two storms. On the plus side, as the height of the beck outside rose and rose, it was a great excuse to simply stay in on a couple days  to play with our granddaughter who joined us there with her parents, the Eldest and Dilly.  The net result was that I made up for the lack of fell walking by the number of circuits completed around the sofa chasing one small toddler who is now so confident on her feet that she is trying to run whilst squealing with delight. If that wasn't exhausting in itself, the lively debates that happen with an eleven month old certainly are. Armed only with a vocabulary of four words she can certainly argue. The first two words are obviously Mummummum and Dadada but when the second two are very clearly "yes" and "no," the adults are in trouble! If I had any doubts whatsoever on the reproductive score, I now fully comprehend why givin

Cold Comfort

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  The temperature has plummeted outside but thank goodness. At least it might kill off some of the nasty bugs that are doing the rounds not to mention those that would otherwise be plaguing the garden later in the year. I'm still hunkering down, although fortunately the sniffling is subsiding and if it hadn't been for all the black ice, might have been tempted to attempt a return to the gym this morning.  I've only had one foray out in the last fortnight and that was to fulfil a longstanding hair appointment. I paid the price the following day with something of a relapse whilst the journey home, as dusk was quickly turning to darkness, was sufficient to put me off ever venturing out again. First a Jack Russell barking at the end of a farm's drive decided it wanted to hurl itself at my car, presumably to ensure I  kept moving which, after swerving to avoid it, I duly did. A sigh of relief, at which point two deer with a joint death wish leapt out in front of me; emergenc

Your Health and Happiness

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  2024 started in the same way that 2023 ended: with a family gathering. On New Year's Eve we met up for a meal with the more northerly branch of Mister E's side of the family. Then, on New Year's Day, we gathered again with the Eldest and Youngest at a holiday home for 3 nights in order to attend my nephew's wedding. Are there ever happier family occasions than weddings with the opportunity to catch up, in a joyous party atmosphere, with relatives you don't see as often as you would like? Unfortunately Covid intervened to prevent my mother coming, whilst my granddaughter succumbed to chicken pox meaning that neither she nor Dilly could travel. There must be something about weddings and viruses that seem intinsically linked for us in recent years, but at least Mister E and I were unscathed this time around. Mind it could also  have been much worse as the groom had unsuspectingly visited my mother the week before and was feeling so ill on New Year's Day that we w

Voyage

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  We spent a week over Christmas in London at the home of the Eldest and Dilly. It was brilliant to spend so much time with our family (the youngest stayed too), especially with our granddaughter who reached the dizzy age of 10 months on Christmas Eve. As she's already becoming a confident walker after taking her first steps somewhat precociously over 2 months ago now, she was into everything. The ladies, however, chose to escape on the Saturday before Christmas, making our way to Pudding Hill Lane and the ABBA Arena for a performance of ABBA:Voyage. I'm not sure that I was fully prepared (platform shoes aside) for what to expect and confess to finding the whole experience somewhat surreal. It honestly felt as though we were at a live concert with ABBA on stage. Just how authentic are those virtual reality avatars? Forget botox and cosmetic surgery, this has to be the obvious route to eternal youth. Trouble is, with my singing voice, I doubt anybody would be interested in prese

The Best Christmas Present

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  I know that across the world there are so many communities that through war, natural disasters or lack of funding for infrastructure are going without what we in the West regard as basic necessities. Contaminated water alone brings so much illness and disease. The statistics are appalling. According to Water Aid’s website,  almost 1 in 10 people globally do not have access locally to clean water. Back at Chez Nous, retired life has had some luxury restored to it with a temporary connection from the new water pipe to the house. After laboratory testing early in January, we are confident that the Do Not Drink Notice will be revoked. The best Christmas present ever! It would be wonderful if we could share it with those who will continue without but, in the absence of some truly miraculous Christmas magic, I guess a charity donation must suffice. In the meantime my best wishes too for your very own Happy Christmas.

Frazzled by the Electric

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How do the truly elderly navigate bureaucracy? Recently I had an uncomfortable experience from checking an older relative's energy bill. Her gas and electricity come from one of our largest providers and back in August when I had conducted the same check, I submitted meter readings for her, naively thinking that her direct debit payments would be reduced because of the credit that had built up. Now why ever would I think that an energy supplier might behave decently and do this, especially for somebody whom it has listed as a vulnerable person? Yesterday it was apparent that instead not only had the direct debit payment been increased but the credit was now running into 4 figures and so far as I could see approximated a whole year's supply of energy. Not wanting to telephone, because I really can't stand those awful "Your call is important to us," messages as you hold for eternity, I decided to try the chat bot. I succinctly explained that we were looking for a re

The Last Resort

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  The Eldest and Dilly completed the purchase of their first home in August but have continued to live elsewhere whilst they restore and decorate to their satisfaction. Yesterday I visited a niece who has only just moved back into her house after a period of 6 months, again to allow refurbishment to take place. It all makes Mister E's and my desire to remain in our home whilst the floors are drilled out, despite knowing that the facilities we have access to will be reduced, appear a little bizarre.  Are we stalwarts from another age? Has retirement rendered us incapable of coping with change? Are we simply showing early signs of cognitive decline? Have we entered an era of indolence? I guess it's hard to explain our thought processes, especially to those younger family members who have willingly left their homes vacant and sought to avoid disturbance and potential misery by basing themselves elsewhere. To be honest, I'm not sure I can even explain our reasoning to myself. W

Parenting

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  I have alluded previously to a visit by the Eldest and Dilly together with our baby granddaughter. They stayed a week and I have to say I had totally forgotten how exhausting babies are! Grandparent status is wonderful but I'm not sure I'd have the energy to care for a little human being full-time. Hats off, therefore, to Robert de Niro and Al Pacino who both made the news recently when they announced the births of their children. Aged 79 and 83 respectively, I think they need more than congratulations and good luck, although I suspect that neither might be the hands-on type of parent we would normally envisage. I'm absolutely certain that even  if it was biologically possible  the last thing I would want to do would be to give birth in retirement. I love my sleep and quiet periods too much, not to mention the freedom to do what I want, when I want. I never thought I was an overly selfish person but there we are. Raising children is a full-day, every day, long-term commit

Atishoo

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  Oh dear, where have I been for the last month? Can you believe that one small baby grandchild would have occupied so much of my time? Well not quite, but all the travelling to see her coupled with an equally lengthy journey in the opposite direction to carry our pre-launch tasks on the Retirement Project have taken their toll. Mainly I suspect because train carriages and motorway service stations have to be amongst the worst harbinger of germs in existence. Couple that with a breakdown in immunity levels due to the cossetted nature of coronavirus lockdowns and the lack of social-mixing, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever be safe to let out again.  On our last such trip, I set off feeling really well following a back and shoulder massage the day before that had finally got rid of the uncomfortable knots that had been building since the gym team decided that my demographic should all really be raising our strength levels by lifting heavier weights. A great idea for build

I Am Grandma

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  I am about to go through a second retirement. When the eldest and Dilly told us last autumn that, all being well, we were scheduled to become grandparents at the end of this month, I decided to relinquish my role as Parish Clerk. I have been in post since October 2015 and whilst a small salary is paid, it is very much a voluntary position in so far as hours worked and tasks undertaken double those contracted to be delivered. I have, however, enjoyed contributing to the community in this way and been able to put the skills learnt from my decades of legal practice to good use.  However, having been a working Mum for most of my career, I have absolutely no intention of being a working Grandma and so my notice of resignation was duly delivered. Sadly, there have been no enquiries from anyone interested in taking over the role and, honour bound, I have continued in position on the strict understanding that, replaced or not, I would not work beyond my grandchild's due date of 28th Febr

2023

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  2023, can you believe it?  As someone who can't get her head around the fact that 1983 was actually 40 years ago, it's difficult! Yesterday I was reviewing 2022. Not the greatest of years, but at least life started to move apace again, after what felt like two years of treading water and stagnation. Today I am contemplating the 12 months that stretch ahead. There was a time when I used to make resolutions. I imagine like most people they went through a stage of encompassing losing weight and meeting up more. That certainly hasn't been the case in retirement where by 2017 they had become, shall we say, a little less tangible and orienting towards well-being and life-style principles. The following year, however, I opted instead to challenge myself by setting specific, measurable targets but in 2019 felt myself adopting an aura of retired contentment and living in the moment which didn't seem to necessitate any specific promises to myself or undertakings. Perhaps I'

A Night for Reflection

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  New Year's Eve, a night for reflection when, as you may have gathered from my blog post here yesterday I am hardly in the party mood; instead I am full of cold and sick of people! Well the latter isn't qute true but you get my drift. Once upon a time when I was relatively young, staying in at New Year would have resulted in the initiation of a full medical examination. These days I don't even suffer from that relatively new disease known as the Fear of Missing Out. In fact, looking at posts by friends on my Facebook Timeline not to mention WhatsApp messages, staying in could even be the new normal. It seems I have reached the age when people wish you a Happy New Year at 8pm before disappearing to bed with a good book and a yawn. That's retired living for you; a few days of merriment at Christmas and it's enough partying for the rest of the year. Before I jump on the bandwagon and head up the stairs myself, I thought I really should take a moment to reflect on 202

Christmas Comes But Once a Year

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  Christmas comes just once a year but when it does it lasts a long time! At least that's how it feels after hosting the family for 8 days. Of course it was great to be back together once more but having 5 adults in the house for that long, increased by day visitors and on one night an additional overnight guest, is something neither Mister E nor I are used to anymore. Retirement has given us the house to ourselves, day and night, week after week. Sharing our space with others is somewhat strange, as well as tiring (or maybe that's just the thought of all the bed linen and towels that now need washing!). Lolling with a post-Christmas fatigue, normality is slowly being restored, or it  would be if I wasn't suffering from a running nose and sneezing. Typical Christmas guests, they may have gone but they always leave something behind and this year it was their colds. Proud of our potential Covid immunity after succumbing in October, we thought we'd  breeze through the ind

Stress Free or In Denial?

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  It's sometimes very easy in retirement to relax and lose track of time. Add that recent sunshine trip   into the mix and some might say I've reclined so far back into my metaphorical deck chair that I've entered a world of denial. Were you to ask me today's date I might struggle a little, save to say that I'm aware it is just before Christmas. How do I even know that? Well picking up the eldest and Dilly from the railway station this morning with a similar rendezvous arranged for the youngest later this evening might have something to do with it. Christmas visitors are here. There is no obvious stress permeating my being. Could everything be so well organised and planned that I'm ahead of myself? Sadly not, denial it definitely is and a feeling of floating on a higher plane, looking down and thinking no day in the year is ever worth getting frazzled over. Hence, this week I've been back into the gym, adding on a swim and spa; I've had a morning of stre

Double Deckers

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    You know that saying? "Just like double decker buses. You wait ages and then two come along at once." Well I've been living the experience, and after waiting a whole twelve months, two arrived together. Mister E and I, however, managed to miss both. I am, of course, talking nuptials. It's a year now since the eldest and Dilly were married but marked on our calendar for the weekend just gone were the weddings of both a niece and a nephew, the first on Saturday and the other on Sunday. The consecutive scheduling may not have been perfect, especially as we were due to return from holiday only on the Friday afternoon, but hey you only live once and the busier the better! Except it was not to be. That nasty Coronavirus finally caught both of us simultaneously and we've been stuck at home, coughing and spluttering. I wouldn't care but I'd even had my 4th vaccination only 3 weeks before; invincible, we are clearly not. When I've devoted time of late on th

Death Cleaning

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  It's almost a month now since I made a trip to Bath to meet up with the youngest. I opted to travel by train which took 5 hours but as I would easily have spent that long driving there, it seemed the more sensible option. Normally I would have loaded myself down with paperbacks for the journey there and back but in this instance opted for an iPad with downloads from the library including an audio book. Although I do tend to borrow any number of books digitally from the library, I confess that an e-audio book was a first for me. That said, it was the perfect option. I popped my earphones in and not only was the content delivered up directly but I also got to watch the passing scenery through the window at the same time. My choice of listening was a little strange but it was a book that I've been meaning to look at for some time: The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson read perfectly by Juliet Stevenson. The book is sub-titled "How to Free Yourself

The Heat

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  Oh my goodness, it has been warm. 39 degrees last Tuesday afternoon was simply outrageous. It felt like a foreign vacation minus the swimming pool and waiter, which I now realise are vital in that kind of heat. Worse still the humidity gave birth to zillions of tiny sciarid flies, almost as irritating as mosquitoes which fortunately still haven't made an appearance in this part of the world. That said, at least retirement meant we could just give ourselves up to the heat and do nothing unless swilling the rear patio shaded from the morning sun counts, after all the water round my feet was the nearest I was getting to a paddle that day. I can't begin to imagine working in those temperatures although an air-conditioned office could appeal. In my case I have resorted to the car and the fitness studio for cool air to be piped in, well it's either that or shopping in the freezer aisle. Normally an exceptionally warm summer's day here might reach 27 degrees after which a 10

Party Girl

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    Definitely out of practice. A family party to celebrate a double retirement at the weekend and I'm still in recovery mode. Worse still that's despite playing the part of the no-drinking driver and being home and tucked up in bed by 11.30pm. It was a great night for dancing, even if I did find the music several decibels louder than I might have chosen but my knees continue to pay the price. My throat too still feels hoarse from all the shouting over the sound system.  Well for an hour or three it was good to recall that this is how the Saturday nights of youth were regularly spent. Now, in retirement, a party only comes around every 6 to 8 months; probably just long enough for the euphoria to abate and a proper recuperation to take effect. Retirement is a worthy cause for celebration  but in this instance I even wondered if I was actually the only fully retired person in the room. The shining example for all to aspire to as I strutted my stuff on the dance floor... or, in re

Cognitive Ability and the Barry Humphries UK Tour 2022 Promo Clip

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Ageing and memory loss purportedly go hand in hand; Covid-19 and brain fog dominate the headlines; there's also menopause with the impact on cognitive functions of changing oestrogen levels. Is it little wonder that I am a tad paranoid at present? Then at the weekend the Observer published a story on the hidden long terms risks of surgery  where studies have shown that the brain takes a pounding in the arms of anaesthesia. Call me neurotic if you wish but I am now constantly on the look out for personal symptoms signalling a worrying decline. I'm not sure that, whilst lunching with my brilliant gym buddies today, muddling up the name of a potential venue for a future meet up is a concerning sign or not. Still I am conscious that where once I might have relied on pure mental ability to house a personal calendar and schedule deadlines, I now have a tendency to make a digital list synchronising across all devices. Mister E prefers paper and pen, but as a consequence