A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

  The state-pension triple lock has featured in media debate in recent weeks with speculation as to whether or not the Government is genuinely committed to maintaining it or not. Some politicians of course are not reticent in putting forward arguments for its abolition. I am a member of the cohort who, because of changes in Government policy, was denied her state pension at first 60, then with relatively short notice at 62 as well. Luckily, I am now growing in confidence that it might actually start to be paid when I attain 66; those only slightly younger than myself must wait until 67. Whether the pension, which we now have to work longer to earn in full, will be worth a realistic sum going forward, is of course dependent on the Government's commitment to the lock. There are those who argue that the country cannot afford the increases it guarantees and whereby the state pension rises annually in line with inflation, average wage growth or 2.5% whichever is the greater. What they o

  It is said that when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade. Embrace positivity and turn your misfortune into a beneficial and perhaps even enjoyable experience. I thought I'd come up with something similar within the constraints of my greenhouse recently. Somebody earlier in the year suggested that I grow cucamelons. I confess that I found the prospect of growing a cross between a melon and a cucumber rather exciting, duly sowed the seeds and nurtured the seedlings that followed. There was no hint on the seed packet as to how large the fruit grew and I think, understandably, I was expecting something perhaps mango sized.  When the plants became overcome by tiny fruit, at best 2 centimetres in length, I reached out to colleagues in the village gardening club for guidance. The consensus was that this was the limit of their size and that they go well as an addition to cocktails as well as being eaten as a sweet canap é . Reader, to my mind, they can best be described as an

    Yesterday was the pits. At least that was what the email I received implied.   "I shall be arriving at 10 am to start digging trial pits," wrote the contamination expert. I'm not sure quite what I was expecting; some kind of lunar landscape interspersed with deep craters perhaps. Oh well if we haven't been able to get away and fly to the moon or indeed anywhere, creating the effect in your back garden might just have the same impact and without all the hassle of airport check-ins. In the end, however, the work was far less intrusive. Fear the worst and hope for the best they say.  Directly attributable to a month or more of detection work by Mister E and me, as well as too much time spent on hands and knees sniffing in strange corners, I'm pleased to say that we were able to direct the expert and his shovel to within a couple of feet of striking oil. It wasn't quite a spout bursting from the core of the earth but, drilling down and scraping away, he found

  You have to admire our present Government, always striving to tend to our needs and only ever with our best interests at heart. What is it about the Conservative Party though that since Norman Tebbit 42 years ago it's been obsessed with getting us onto bicycles, whilst ministers swan around in chauffeur driven limos or in the case of the Prime Minister jets and helicopters? Perturbed by the number of "economically inactive" people under pension age, the  Work and Pensions Secretary, Mel Stride, last week suggested that over 50's should consider getting on their bikes and delivering pizzas. (At least he knew better than to suggest we catch a train). I guess it didn't dawn on him that many of us in this category would actually have qualified for state pensions a number of years ago if his party hadn't changed the rules at the last minute and that not earning in your early sixties is by no mean unusual. He also overlooked how many are now caring for elderly rel

 I don't know how anybody else copes with domestic chores but I find them a real grind . When I was working I generally paid somebody to assist with the cleaning and ironing but even then tidying up in readiness for their visit was a burden in itself. In retirement I chose to relieve myself of that load by endeavouring to keep on top of the inevitable crumbs, dust and muck personally. I can't say I'm successful in doing so. Although after 9 years of retirement I am at least more accomplished in that sphere than when I set out. Adapting from a career that called out for an element of perfectionism to a dust and do mentality has not been easy. If anything is going to force us to downsize it will inevitably be the hours of my time spent on mundane household tasks, only to have to repeat them again a week or two later. What is it about dirt that it reappears as soon as you turn your head? Last week, however, I decided to try a new technique and downloaded a couple of cleaning a

  This weekend marks 5 weeks of living on bottled water. Not the most auspicious of anniversaries, coinciding as it has with Plastic Free July and ruining all attempts on my part to live more sustainably. So the stress runs on, but we are building our resilience.  In my case, I have found that throwing myself into exercise classes and some heavy gardening certainly helps and undoubtedly has me falling asleep even before I get into bed. Last weekend the Village Gardening Club co-ordinated a tour of members' gardens. Rain had forced me to abandon any effort to weed and I confess that my flower beds, with some in an ongoing state of renovation, were an embarrassment. I devote my time in early summer to the vegetable patch and then never find a weather window to sort the rest of the garden; it's usually too wet, too windy or too hot making the clay soil seal like concrete. However, shamed by the success of others and helped by ideal conditions, this past week Mister E and I have fi

  I know that as you age it is considered common to have issues with your urinary tract or prostate. Mister E and I however seem fated to have problems with a different kind of plumbing. The central heating has been a headache on occasions with a blocked radiator and more recently a screw through a pipe.  We currently have an issue with the heads on the Retirement Project too. However all this pales into insignificance when compared to events of the past 3 weeks. I've moved from a state of shocked paralysis, through panic to waking up in the night attempting to logically solve the problem at 3.30am (it never works and just leads to continuing insomnia). If I ever thought I'd left the world of stress behind me the day I retired, I could not have been proved further wrong. Hot sweaty palms, a fast beating heart and bouts of sudden nausea have all made their inevitable appearance. It started a few days after we returned from our Baltic trip (and believe me, I could now do with a