Esteemed Company

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Well how's that for esteemed company? Two famous sportsmen announced their own retirements today, meaning that in years to come I shall be able to say that I retired the same summer as Jonny Wilkinson and Ryan Giggs.



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The 3 x 60 Challenge

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So much is written about the post-work bucket list that as you approach retirement, you inevitably feel that you should have one. A tick list of 100 things to see and do before you die. You don't even have to think up your own any more, the Internet is full of them. Glance through them if you will and you quickly get the impression that retirement must be full of adrenalin rushed grandparents throwing themselves out of aeroplanes or climbing Kilimanjaro. Indeed the eldest recently sent a book to Mister E and me entitled "101 Coolest Things to Do in Great Britain." Now it is a good read and has some, shall we say, "interesting ideas" but for those that hold the most appeal I can honestly say that I've already been there, done them, got the photographs. There are others that wild horses wouldn't drag me to. It may be cool, but somehow Mister E and I attending Bestival is beyond even the most vivid of imaginations. The problem with trying to...
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All Aboard for Pampering

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Mister E and I may be retired but we still enjoy being pampered now and again; who says you have to be working hard to deserve a treat? Yesterday offered one of those occasions when we were spoiled with a train trip on board the Northern Belle, previously operated and restored by the Venice Simplon Orient Express. It was a day for lounging back in a plush seat, eating and drinking everything put in front of us (and there was quite a quantity) whilst watching the scenery glide serenely past. The luxury of our surroundings and the attentive service from uniformed staff all added to the sense of occasion and enjoyment. We were entertained by wandering musicians and a magician on our figure of eight route around County Durham and North Yorkshire, ending up eventually back where we started at Darlington Station. Just like my retirement so far really; there is no obvious destination but the journey getting there is immensely pleasurable.
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New Experiences

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  The hallmark of retirement has to be opening the door to a raft of new experiences. This can involve travelling, but more and more frequently I have found that the time retirement bestows enables unfamiliar adventures much closer to home. Indeed fresh perspective and novel opportunities can often arise unexpectedly and from out of the routine and mundane. This past week has been no exception. Following on from the acquisition of The Bug , I decided that I was too cowardly to try out the self parking function alone so called into the car dealership where the salesman was more than willing to show me the vehicle's capability. Nothing ventured, nothing gained but apart from deriving a good laugh at The Bug's choice of parking spaces (at one point it parked on the access route between two rows of parked cars, blocking everyone else in) and failure to recognise all the obvious ones, it is not a function I anticipate much need for. Indeed the demonstration convinced me that I have ...
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A Full Service

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  It's not just the Spring Cleaning that I embrace in February and March because, much as I dislike routine, the end of winter and beginning of spring have become a time to put other aspects of our house in order. So, it's a period for sorting ourselves administratively with meetings with our financial adviser and personal banker; reviewing and renewing insurance policies, changing insurer as necessary; checking tariffs and switching energy suppliers. In fact this year we have surpassed ourselves by finally updating our wills too!  Energised by the thought of springtime and rebirth, it's also become a time for medical checks, new spectacles, and a dental check-up. When making my appointment with the optician, I was given the option of a hearing test; I declined but no doubt, in years to come, that too will find its way into my retirement body scan. It's not simply a phase for a human body overhaul either, as we've subjected our cars to annual serv...
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Late, Even in Retirement

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  (Image by Merry Christmas  from Pixabay) Whilst retirement continues to throw up its new experiences, I'm conscious that some of them only arise because I'm a little late for the party. We have the misfortune to suffer from the problems that rural connectivity throws up. In particular, we  frequently struggle with mobile reception at one side of the house, whilst at the other it has proved impossible to obtain a wifi signal meaning that the benefits of a smart televison are non-existent.  However, during last year's initial lockdown, for the first time I appreciated the potential of casting especially from the iPad to the living room. It's been an indispensable way to participate in online exercise classes.  On Sunday, I was idly exploring other options to cast when I discovered that every series of Downton Abbey is available on Amazon Prime. I'm one of those few people who until now has never watched a single episode. I was, of course, working when it aired ...
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The Danger Zone

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I have generally considered myself  to be healthy and my retirement lifestyle equally so. I exercise daily; eat a good diet; don't add salt to my food; don't drink much; have never smoked; have no obvious stress triggers; have even lost half a stone in weight since finishing work although, like many people, several more pounds won't be missed. Grief, I sound so boring! Anyway, I was a little concerned by my hospital visit at the end of July when the nurse checked my blood pressure. I could see the reading on the screen and, as it seemed high to me, I did ask her if it was okay.  "Absolutely fine," she said but that didn't exactly allay my fears. After all I had been sitting in a waiting room that could easily have passed for Obesity International and what if mine had simply been the lowest she had seen all morning? The result has been nagging on my mind, so on Monday I called into our surgery and had the Practice Nurse take another readin...
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Seven Years and Itching

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  It is seven years today since I closed the door on my legal career and I still have no itch or desire to return to the world of court rooms and orders. If I have a yearning at all, it is for a resurrection of the retirement life I had become accustomed to before this darned pandemic descended upon us. It is a craving that is now, however, tempered by the sense that the simple life I have long hankered for is within my fingers' grasp, if only... I noticed a meme the other day that just about summed up my situation. In essence it was indicating that lockdown has demonstrated that we need more than time trapped at home to organise and sort; the problem was never a lack of hours to devote to the task as we had always assumed, but rather something within that needs to be tamed and brought to heel.  Who would have imagined that seven years down the track with supposedly oodles of time, I'd still be contemplating how to declutter myself of  physical stuff?  Strangely the ...
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Exhaustion

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  Who would have thought it?  Yesterday, according to my Fitbit app, I walked more than 5 miles without leaving the house; most of it was between wardrobes and the bed where robe contents were displaced and sorted. Now in the course of  the motivational training sessions, I was warned that one wardrobe and a time limit of 4 hours were desirable. However, when Mister E expressed interest in getting his hanging rails decluttered too, it seemed opportune to keep going. After all when the man who cannot even bear to throw away a cardboard box, admits his closets need a good tidy up and needs help to do this, who could possibly refuse? To be fair, he took to the process with a great deal more realism and less sentimentality than I did. In the end the hangers on his rails move freely whereas mine are still a trifle squeezed. Looking at the number of empty coat hangers we produced, I'm ashamed to say we must have jettisoned at least a hundred items between us, most of which wer...
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A Reprieve

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  Tonight I am writing this post rather than continuing my game of catch up with Downton Abbey. After a week of  constant viewing, I am even beginning to sound like Lady Mary; should I deign to clamber on top of a horse and ride it side-saddle, you will know that my conversion is complete. Yesterday, I remained on target to reach the finale today when I noticed that the warning to the effect that all episodes would be removed on 31st January appeared to have disappeared. I wondered if an extension had been granted or if instead I was already viewing on borrowed time. I checked again this morning, and, can you believe it, after all those mammoth sessions in front of the television there is indeed now a new expiry date in two weeks' time! I am unable to explain my relief.  Retirement and deadlines simply don't go together. After a career of working to time limits,  I honestly have no idea why I succumbed to the challenge. All I can think is that, still slightly intoxi...
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Happy New Me

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  There's something very special about New Year. There I am at 11.59 pm on 31st December waiting for the clock to strike; I whisper a few resolutions; the New Year rushes in and I am a transformed being. Except it doesn't work like that. Least of all last night, when I couldn't keep my eyes open late enough to witness the ushering in of 2022. It continues to be a hard life in retirement (she says smiling).  I was up this morning, however, with a good thirty minutes to spare before welcoming the first dawn of the new me, assuming of course that I had remembered to make some resolutions.  I hadn't.  It wasn't so much that I'd forgotten to make any as, to be honest, I genuinely couldn't think of any. Of course, nobody's perfect but in retirement where everyone strives to live in the present, resolving to socialise frequently, regularly ring Great Aunt Betsy (another figment of my imagination), shed pounds or come up with anything to alter your life for the ...
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Popular Posts in last 30 days

Travel - A New Dimension

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  I have recently returned from a family trip to the eastern Algarve where we rented a villa and spent our days on the beach running in and out of the sea and building sandcastles. A reminder of childhood holidays from yore, except there was no need for a windbreak and we also forsook the opportunity for sandwiches with tiny fragments of grit in them for a small choice of coastal restaurants and cafes. The sun shone everyday; temperatures were warm and best of all tourist numbers were low meaning we frequently had a vast area of seashore to ourselves. The packing to get there was another matter. No feelings of warm nostalgia when it became a mammoth operation to accommodate a mountain of nappies, books, toys, baby clothing and essentials, despite our rental property being fully equipped. Does every generation invariably weigh itself down with more and more stuff? I certainly don't recall travelling with so much when the Eldest and Youngest were little but then my own parents probab...
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The Dreaded To Do List

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My To Do List habit is something that I have carried over from diligence in the workplace. I'd like to be able to describe it as a thing of beauty but in reality it is on the one hand the bane of my life, on the other potentially the only item on which I can rely to maintain order. I keep it in a specifically designed app that is available on all my devices as both a standalone schedule and also a daily precursor to calendar entries. Essentially there is no hiding from it. Some days it is a monster with a controlling claw, on others a tawdry specimen that can easily be ignored. There are chores that repeat, reminders for bill payments and other deadlines, nudges for seasonal tasks in the garden and so the list goes on. There are some days when I wonder  if the time I expend reallocating dates for jobs on the list could perhaps have been more usefully  deployed tackling those items. On other occasions, I sail through the list, ticking off every item for the day and reaching the...
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A New Chapter

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Back in the early days of retirement I acquired a new car . I freely admitted on this blog that, of habit, I gave all my cars names and on that occasion, over 10 years ago now, the vehicle was named Miss Scarlet. Until the last 12 months we have had a happy relationship and I confess that I had never before hung onto a car so long. On reflection, however, my very first motor car (Sunshine Brum Brum - it was a rather bright and distinctive yellow) was elderly when I acquired it and probably outdid Miss Scarlet in vehicular years when, for reasons of reliability, we were obliged to part company. I have discovered in retirement that dependability is not quite as important as it was when the daily commute to work was a necessity. Cancelling or postponing leisure plans is no big deal and where I feel that I am obligated to commit, then cadging a lift from Mister E  has worked well too. Unfortunately there comes a time when, after a couple of big repairs, the fear of continuously haemorr...
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Simplification

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  One of my pleasures in retirement has been my garden, particularly the  greenhouse and vegetable patch. Sadly, because of the excavation work that took place starting in the autumn of 2023 and followed in 2024 by our vacating the house, the whole garden has been very much neglected. I had to abandon any thought of planting this year when there were so many other chores to contend with inside the house, after we returned at the end of March.  In light of the persistent dry conditions and high temperatures, a fallow plot may well have been fortuitous and, with the hosepipe ban, has certainly saved me hours of carrying watering cans.  Nevertheless, a reduction in the temperature, cloud cover and some free afternoons over the past week have finally encouraged me to try to regain a semblance of order outside and, ever the organiser, to consider  a game plan for next year. That's not easy when in recent years we have never known whether the earth is going to drown o...
Read more

A Full Service

-
Image
  It's not just the Spring Cleaning that I embrace in February and March because, much as I dislike routine, the end of winter and beginning of spring have become a time to put other aspects of our house in order. So, it's a period for sorting ourselves administratively with meetings with our financial adviser and personal banker; reviewing and renewing insurance policies, changing insurer as necessary; checking tariffs and switching energy suppliers. In fact this year we have surpassed ourselves by finally updating our wills too!  Energised by the thought of springtime and rebirth, it's also become a time for medical checks, new spectacles, and a dental check-up. When making my appointment with the optician, I was given the option of a hearing test; I declined but no doubt, in years to come, that too will find its way into my retirement body scan. It's not simply a phase for a human body overhaul either, as we've subjected our cars to annual serv...
Read more

New Experiences

-
Image
  The hallmark of retirement has to be opening the door to a raft of new experiences. This can involve travelling, but more and more frequently I have found that the time retirement bestows enables unfamiliar adventures much closer to home. Indeed fresh perspective and novel opportunities can often arise unexpectedly and from out of the routine and mundane. This past week has been no exception. Following on from the acquisition of The Bug , I decided that I was too cowardly to try out the self parking function alone so called into the car dealership where the salesman was more than willing to show me the vehicle's capability. Nothing ventured, nothing gained but apart from deriving a good laugh at The Bug's choice of parking spaces (at one point it parked on the access route between two rows of parked cars, blocking everyone else in) and failure to recognise all the obvious ones, it is not a function I anticipate much need for. Indeed the demonstration convinced me that I have ...
Read more

Lessons in Life from Alfred Wainwright

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It is hard to visit the Lake District and not be reminded of Alfred Wainwright , the celebrated fellwalker and author whose Pictorial Guide to the Lakeland Fells in seven volumes remains the leading authority on hill walking in the area. Whilst out in the open air last week many of his written thoughts also came to mind. The joy of shared experience and of the human sub-conscious perhaps, or an attempt to answer the most profound of questions that haunt our every moment. Wainwright's answer however, whilst illuminating, fell short of providing a definitive answer to that one word question, "Why?": "...more and more people are turning to the hills; they find something in these wild places that can be found nowhere else. It may be solace for some, satisfaction for others: the joy of exercising muscles that modern ways of living have cramped, perhaps; or a balm for jangled nerves in the solitude and silence of the peaks; or escape from the clamour a...
Read more

The 3 x 60 Challenge

-
Image
So much is written about the post-work bucket list that as you approach retirement, you inevitably feel that you should have one. A tick list of 100 things to see and do before you die. You don't even have to think up your own any more, the Internet is full of them. Glance through them if you will and you quickly get the impression that retirement must be full of adrenalin rushed grandparents throwing themselves out of aeroplanes or climbing Kilimanjaro. Indeed the eldest recently sent a book to Mister E and me entitled "101 Coolest Things to Do in Great Britain." Now it is a good read and has some, shall we say, "interesting ideas" but for those that hold the most appeal I can honestly say that I've already been there, done them, got the photographs. There are others that wild horses wouldn't drag me to. It may be cool, but somehow Mister E and I attending Bestival is beyond even the most vivid of imaginations. The problem with trying to...
Read more

Young and Old

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  The past couple of weeks have flown by. During it I have repeatedly felt like the filling between a slice of young and a slice of old, as I've dashed between the family's oldest and youngest generations. Grandotty had her first ever sleepover with us when her parents travelled north for a week, before they left with Little Sister  to attend and stay overnight at a wedding celebration. I'm glad to say the grandparents survived unscathed and Grandotty was an absolute delight. The only cloud on the horizon, apart from the post-babysitting fatigue,  was that due to a technical oversight on the part of her parents, we were provided with only 3 spare pairs of disposable training pants for the whole 24 hours that she was in our care. A little slow on the uptake, we didn't realise until after the nearest supermarket (8 miles away) had closed on late Sunday afternoon. Hats off to Grandotty, we didn't quite manage to complete a crash course in toilet training but she did as...
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Unexpected

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  I had an unexpected visit to the dentist today. Unexpected on two scores: first, because I never thought it possible to ring at 3pm and get an appointment for 4.15 pm (courtesy of a last minute cancellation); second, because apart from check ups I have had no need for dental treatment for over 40 years. Unfortunately that changed when, chewing on a slice of toast (I swear it wasn't even crisp) a molar at the back of my mouth broke. I wasn't in any pain but knowing from the experiences of Mister E that these things, if left, tend to fester and cause problems when you least want them, decided to get it checked over as soon as possible. Now on my last foray for dental treatment, back in my twenties, I recall being absolutely petrified. It was for a filling and a decade had passed since the sadist who posed as my childhood dentist had wielded a drill in my direction and filled my back teeth; no anaesthetic, nothing but the drill constantly hitting a nerve and he insisting it woul...
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