A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

   I had a birthday at the weekend. Falling, as it does, in the early part of March, it was always touch and go as I grew up as to whether it would snow on the big day or not. That hasn't been an issue in recent years but this year delivered up a first. When Mister E and I took a break from decorating at our home, as we get the unaffected areas prepared for our return, we sat on our patio area and ate lunch (sandwiches from a Tupperware container) outside! Since then, normal service has resumed and when I set off for the gym this morning it was, of course, sleeting.  Needless to say I am now keeping a careful eye on the forecast which currently says it is going to rain non-stop on our moving date. Fingers crossed that it is as inaccurate as ever. In the past, I have often mused over the fact that I am now able to plan my days around the weather. There are some commitments, however, that even in retirement I realise I'm desperate to keep, rain or shine.   ...

  In my last post I commented on what seems to be the frantic nature of life as you run from one commitment to another. Who'd have thought how easily you can fall into the trap of doing this, even when you are retired and theoretically have time at your disposal. I've been ruminating on my folly and although that wonderful feeling of tranquility is clearly linked to a slower tempo, it isn't true that in order to appreciate the joy of life you always have to operate at a snail's pace. Indeed the early years of retirement are very definitely an opportunity for adventure and exploration; deriving thrill from the novel and unfamiliar.   Two weeks ago, when I was in London for Grandotty's birthday, I took advantage of the Eldest and Dilly working, Grandotty spending the day in nursery and Mister E struggling with an aching foot, to set out alone. On this occasion I headed for Whitehall and the Churchill War Rooms. It's not a venue that I have ever visited before and ...

  This morning proved to be the perfect antidote to all that juggling . I made it to the gym for 9.00 am and circuit training. Then, with almost a 2 hour gap until a Yoga class, I gravitated to the spa area for the first time this calendar year. A typical March nip in the air did not prevent me from venturing into the outdoor jacuzzi where, surrounded by rising bubbles and with a view over the open countryside, all felt well and tranquil. The steam room, infra red sauna, and rain-forest shower prolonged the effect. Lounging in the tepidarium after a soak in the hydrotherapy pool (more bubbles), life felt peaceful once again. I lingered over dressing and drying my hair; those daily tasks that are usually rushed. Then finally a flowing Yoga session after which I emerged back into the world, serene and calm. It never lasts long though does it? A ten mile drive to my local town and a frantic search for a parking space before arriving for a hair appointment with only a minute to spare....

  Oh my goodness. I'd never considered retirement could be pressurising until recently when , just like those jolly times in a working life, I've found myself juggling.  There's still no working boiler at home but our return date remains fixed and is ever more imminent. Consequently anxiety levels are rising and there's now decluttering at both ends of our personal property chain too. I'd like to think that letting go after you've gone without for almost 12 months would be easy, but sadly I'm still finding it challenging! Then there's decorating to finish, whilst dodging workmen and dust to complete it. Not much multi-tasking there you might think, however I failed to factor in my mother undergoing her own little crisis and the time it takes to provide support and solutions. Regrettably, her end of the retirement spectrum is less alluring than mine, although no doubt I'll find plenty of material to blog about if I ever reach my nineties. What I think...

 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 ...