A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

I confess, I am a little behind with my Christmas preparations. Perhaps I was overly relaxed when I thought two weeks was too early to start getting everything ready or maybe a tad optimistic as to how long the necessary steps would actually take.  Let's say the wheels came off over the weekend when I realised the enormity of clearing a spare bedroom ready for Grandotty to sleep in. Sadly, it was full of those boxes we've just never found the time or perhaps more correctly enthusiasm to empty since returning home at the end of March. Thankfully, and bar only two that I have found space elsewhere to store, everything is now sorted, the bed is made and the floor is clear. So a little late in erecting the Christmas tree, it became a task scheduled for this afternoon, after I had picked up the Youngest from the station and together we had undertaken a major food shop. Sadly, it didn't happen. A delay on the railway meant that the Youngest arrived an hour late. Even then we plan...

  Following on from my post about Nature and Art , yesterday I found the ideal venue. It was at Nunnington Hall, a National Trust Property situated on the edge of the Howardian Hills. Inside there was a photography exhibition by Joe Cornish and Simon Baxter with the title "All the Wood's a Stage." Yes it was a play on that much famed quotation from Shakespeare, but the point they were making was that trees are the performers in nature and that we should reconnect with woodland using our powers of observation and other senses. I wasn't sure what to expect but went with an open mind. The photographs were stunning, unlike my own example above. They showed trees through the changing seasons; symbols of life, beauty, death and renewal; providers of quietude; guardians of the environment. They appeared as immense, silent wardens of the natural world and a fundamental part of the planet's vital ecosystem. I felt inspired; I wanted to reach for a camera myself or at least...

Many years ago, in that world of work I invariably wore black . Dull, sombre coloured suits with white blouses and heeled shoes were viewed as appropriate attire for both office and court room. I think there was even a myth that black flattered and slimmed. Hence I had a collection of LBD's for evening events and even black swimwear for holidays. In retirement I realised that they served little purpose. Getting rid took much longer, but I think I finally got there in 2021. Today, however, looking through my wardrobe where various hues of blue dominate, the thought went through my mind that whilst there is no black there is no purple either. I was thinking of course of that wonderful poem by Jenny Joseph, " Warning- When I am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple ."   Scanning the poem in my head, I realised that I don't have a red hat (unless the pink one I now wear in the garden in winter, after it was partially eaten by a moth, counts). I haven't taken to spending m...

  Yes the Christmas chatter has begun: "Do you have your tree up?"  "Are you sending Christmas cards this year?" "Have you bought and wrapped your presents?" On my part the answer to all of those has been a definitive No! Those who can smugly answer Yes, appear concerned that December 25th is but a mere seventeen days and so many hours away. For me that really is an age, just imagine all the exciting things I have planned for the interim (like planting bulbs , for instance). Despite ticking off a couple of Christmas lunches already, I do subscribe to the idea that the Christmas season can be extended far too long if you let it and what's wrong with a bit of spontaneity when it really does arrive? Now that attitude is totally contrary to how I thought my approach to the festive season in retirement might be. There again, why change the habits of a lifetime?  This will be our first Christmas at home since 2022, so of course I am looking forward to it and...

We're heading towards the end of another year but why is it that once again I never managed to get all my borders dug over and bulbs planted before the gardening season came to an abrupt end? Forever the optimist, I'm still checking the forecast, hoping for a rise in temperature and one or two calm days in anticipation of finishing the job.  As a consequence of the digging that went on inside and outside the house starting in late 2023, autumn clear-ups have of necessity been neglected for the past two years. The baked clay that resulted from our recent summer of drought and high temperatures resisted all attempts to turn it with a spade, whilst, in the meantime, field mice from the adjoining farmer's land have filled themselves at the expense of my tulip and crocus bulbs.   Confronted by a depleted floral display when we returned home earlier this year and facing another in the Spring of 2026, I had therefore set myself the task of planting a thousand bulbs. The pro...

I have just returned from another enjoyable but exhausting trip to London to see our granddaughters. On this occasion, rather than driving, Mister E and I took the train and the journey proved to be the only part of our four nights away when I got the opportunity to sit down with a book. I had deliberately chosen something light and recommended to me on the basis that it was funny and astute, a little in the style of Jane Austen's humour but set in the late 1960's. I'm not at all sure that it completely lived up to that description but it had a certain wit and whimsicality that captivated me regardless. The book was 'Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont' by Elizabeth Taylor and it depicts the interaction between various long stay, elderly guests at a hotel on Cromwell Road in London. I was intrigued to turn the pages in circumstances where friends have often suggested that in our dotage it would be preferable to check into a good hotel rather than a care home. Mrs Palfrey w...

  Acquiring an electric vehicle has introduced me to various new concepts when it comes to driving.  'Range anxiety,' for instance, seems to be a phrase that crops up regularly. Progressing so suddenly from a hot, dry spring and summer into current conditions has fostered an epidemic of the condition and I've even heard tell of one poor lady who couldn't bear the stress and ended up part-exchanging her electric car after only a few months to return to a conventional petrol engine. Unfortunately, deploying heating, lighting and windscreen wipers throughout every journey has an inevitable impact on battery power and the decrease in miles per kwh as a consequence can be worrying. Somebody even described to me how they are donning extra layers and driving without heating in an effort to tweak as many miles as possible out of their charge. I'm lucky in that most of my driving is local and to be honest I'm not sure that I would have swapped to an electric car if it wa...