A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

 I have frequently been disappointed, especially in retirement, returning to once visited or even frequented places. Perhaps I retain an idealised notion in my head as to how things used to be or maybe, just maybe, they have deteriorated. Often, of course, the disenchantment has stemmed from their growth in popularity, with crowds and traffic detracting from the experience. There was no such let down yesterday when a friend and I went to see Skipton Castle. In my case, it was the first time I had stepped through the ancient gatehouse since my childhood. Consequently my memories were vague, although I do have an abiding recollection of my first ever encounter with a garderobe (medieval toilet), peering through a hole to the cliffside and water below! Guess what, it was still there and the drop from seat to beyond equally as impressive. More than 900 years old, Skipton Castle claims to be one of the best preserved castles in England. As an adult with the experience of many more cast...

Events of the past 20 months chez nous are rapidly drawing to a close albeit at an increasing pace. It reached a point in mid-January where we just couldn't take any more, so we uprooted to the Lake District along with all the family.  The day before we left, however, holiday vibes were destroyed by an email indicating that notice to terminate the rental of our temporary accommodation on 25th March was being served and that if we believed our own home was not yet ready for occupation we should contact the loss adjuster, who presumably had authorised the service of the notice in the first place. It was perhaps unfortunate that I only got round to checking my emails in the evening because the chances of rousing the loss adjuster on a Friday night were non-existent.  So off we toddled across the Pennines,  panicking in the knowledge that our home still had cut pipes all over the place, no floor, no heating source etc.. Then malaise set in: the weather was awful; cold, damp a...

  I spent yesterday afternoon in my volunteer role as trustee of an almshouse. After reading an article on The Guardian website earlier in the week referring to research over the decades on the benefits of volunteering, I  could have felt very smug indeed or at least basked in the higher echelons of a score on a happiness and well-being chart.  It seems that helping others boosts our health in a variety of ways, but with one proviso, namely that you have to do it for solely altruistic reasons. If you do, however, body and brain are allegedly repaid in a multitude of ways including the easing of inflammation, the boosting of mental health, the building of resilience, feeling fitter and even living longer. One study also suggested that volunteering with three different organisations gives you an increased benefit. Darn, I may have been volunteering in three directions when I first retired but life has a habit of getting in the way and of course I've deliberately shed roles ...

  You will recall that back in November I was moaning as to our lack of confidence in the contractors appointed by the insurance company to remediate our home. A meeting took place and their strategy for reinstatement was amended to our satisfaction although we have been well aware of the need to monitor carefully. Thank goodness we have been on the ball. Concrete slab stage was reached shortly before Christmas and last week a team was deployed to construct the underfloor trunking for the water pipes. Although our ability to inspect the latest work was delayed because of the weather, Mister E and I called in to check yesterday.  Honestly, you would struggle to make this stuff up, but somewhere along the way they had decided to insert vast amounts of unnnecessary trunking where no water pipes are to be nor indeed have ever been. Then, they had totally overlooked the need to install pipes to connect to one of the radiators. I gladly left Mister E to deal with the Project Manage...

  It's taken twelve days to log in, but finally I'm creating my first blogpost of 2025. We enjoyed a very traditional family Christmas with close family staying for 10 days and during that period of time  we caught up with extended family too. There was the inevitable surfeit of food and I confess that exercise and healthy eating very definitely took a back seat until they were resumed last week. As ever Grandotty is the gift that keeps on giving  and having got over the nasty cold she kindly passed onto me at the beginning of December, she arrived with another one. No prizes for guessing who succumbed immediately they left. The pitfalls of grandparenting has to be that lack of immunity to nursery matured viruses. I have been considering a need to decelerate a little in 2025. Simplicity and the Zen zone it is argued require us to slow down to enjoy and appreciate more. I hadn't envisaged that curbing the pace of life would be enforced rather than engineered, but hey if co...

    I know there is a theory that as retired humans age they become more grumpy but, seriously, 'tis the season to be jolly and what better way for getting you into the party spirit than a run of seasonal bonuses?  Mine started at our annual Yoga Party when yours truly didn't just go and win the Charity raffle: a rather wonderful hamper of Christmas goodies! That was followed swiftly by my state pension bonus, a whole tax free £10! Of course there have been repeated discussions between Mister E and me as to how best to apply our combined sum of £20. To date, and on the basis that it is still better to give than receive, we've acquired a copy of the Big Issue between us, and are down to £15 looking for a good cause tomorrow. The Youngest and her boyfriend arrived on Friday and we are presently awaiting the imminent appearance of the Eldest and family. The cot has been put up in a separate bedroom which is something of a step forward from their last visit. I did ask Dilly i...

   My primeval nesting urge invariably sets in as the days grow noticeably longer and Spring is in the air. Unusually, and just as the shortest day of the year approaches, I've been hit by a compulsion to declutter. So, totally out of kilter with my normal instinctive behaviour,  I have been dropping goods off at the Charity Shop at the end of the year rather than the beginning. I've also found an outlet that buys old digital cameras (the Charity Shop having refused to accept them in case I might inadvertently have failed to wipe the memory and their contents presumably be distasteful!) I've disposed too of a significant percentage of my paperback book collection; the part with yellowing loose pages and tiny print in an obscure font with no double line spacing. Horror of horrors, in an epoch where Charity Shops want nearly new goods and these were fit for nothing other than recycling assuming that the paper could be separated from the glue which appeared to be rapidly det...