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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A Full Service

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  Image by Couleur on Pixabay 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 subje...
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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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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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One a Day

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  I'm no longer sure if it's a feature of lockdown or of retirement, but, whereas I spent a working life juggling office and family commitments, suddenly one appointment a day seems to fill the diary. Actually having anything in the diary during lockdown is a highlight in itself, of course, but when you were always accustomed to fitting a visit to the dentist in and around office hours it is vaguely disheartening to realise that it might be all you achieve in daylight hours at the moment. To be honest I've been on a bit of a roll following the trip out to Leyburn on Saturday for that first dose of vaccine. We were strangely fatigued on Sunday, a not uncommon side-effect apparently, but Monday morning saw me out on the road bright and early. I'd booked the car in for its annual service and got it there just as the garage was opening its doors for business. I decided to wear an FP2 mask for the occasion but it did make communicating with the receptionist a trifle difficul...
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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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Business Networking in Retirement

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Love it or hate it, business owners and key professionals have become accustomed to walking into rooms full of people and making small talk with strangers. It's the real life equivalent of Twitter or LinkedIn. Sometimes to ease the conversation and connections, games are played.  I recall one event where we had to stand up in turn and tell the room what we were looking for in the lowest number of words possible. That was an easy one for a divorce lawyer: "adultery"; it reduced the room to hysterics but I did get work referred as a result! Relieved of the obligation to network in retirement, I have been toying with deleting my LinkedIn profile. It does seem a brutal step to take, severing those historic connections and therefore the potential for reconnecting. Conversely, the deeper I get into retirement living, the deeper the divergence from the business world and the less important maintaining an online profile seems to be. Recently, however, an old c...
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Not Only But Also

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  Today was our big coronavirus vaccination day and it really was a fortuitous decision to have winter tyres on my car, although the first 100 metres uphill from our drive is always the worst part of the journey. Indeed crossing Barden Moor before dropping down into Leyburn was even rather pretty, despite gusty winds blowing snow onto the road in front of us. The vaccination process itself was quick, straight forward and well-organised. We were early but told to go in regardless and there was no queue, unless a slight wait at the door to the room where three of our local doctors were administering the inoculations counts. Indeed the longest part of the process seemed to be the questions asked of us followed by a brief explanation of the whys and wherefores, after which we were asked if we still wanted to proceed. Well it would have taken more than a rehearsed speech to put us off, especially after driving 20 miles to get there. Mind it was only afterwards we were handed an explanat...
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Tilting

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  We can all go through life attacking imaginary enemies if we so choose. Don Quixote tilted at windmills, but I dare say today he'd have equally mistaken a row of pylons for evil giants.  In retirement my choice has been to avoid conflict, as I try to negotiate my way to a place of calm and stress-free Karma. Unfortunately in recent weeks, it has not been so easy.  There is one chance for the floors  of our home to be reinstated properly. We have no confidence that the insurance company's contractors can deliver. Would you employ a crew used to digging holes and trenches to put everything back together again with the finesse of a master housebuilder? We are understandably running scared. Work has ground to a halt and having sought expert advice have been left even more concerned. It's just like being back at work, waking in the middle of the night to confront the worries of the next day. Even then, I doubt I ever dreamt about filling in floors nor planned conversati...
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Distractions

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    After my last blog entry and the continuation of anxiety and consequent loss of sleep, I'd like to think that I employed that good old tactic known as distraction. Others might perceive it as being the evolutionary flight response. We spent two days in York, staying in a hotel overnight to make sure we well and truly escaped the issues haunting us. As well as taking in its ever growing Christmas Market and a fantastic evening meal out, it was a great opportunity to visit the Art Gallery and museums when most people were choosing to indulge in that popular December pastime of Christmas shopping, enabling us to enjoy crowd-free exhibits. The latest exhibition at the art gallery is entitled "The Art of Wallpaper: Morris & Co." Humour me, I wasn't sure what to expect, but we actually found the history of wallpaper and the framed samples fascinating. Amongst our various visits, we also called in at The Yorkshire Museum. I have to say it has changed significantly si...
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Starting Early

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   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...
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Day 3

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  It was my third morning back at the gym today. Apart from forgetting my trainer shoes (again!), I confess to being modestly proud to have survived unscathed. So far there are no screaming muscles, my joints aren't stiff and I'm ready to do it all again tomorrow (trainer shoes packed in readiness). Conscious of  fast approaching the era for physical decline, yesterday I found my attention online diverted to a somewhat old study on the benefit of being able to sit down onto the floor and then stand up again without using your hands. I surprised myself by being able to do this relatively comfortably. That's just as well, because the study from more than a decade ago suggests that failure gave a seven times greater likelihood of dying within six years. On the one hand that could suggest that this blog might be around for a while yet. On the other, and on the basis that I'm pretty sure I probably couldn't do that in the early days of retirement not to mention during th...
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Nightmare Over?

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  Could the nightmare finally be over? Not the one about the house as sadly that's destined to continue for a while yet, but perhaps the other one involving my car.  It didn't feel like that at the weekend. After picking the car up on Thursday evening, complete with all kinds of new parts, it drove just like a dream. Well, for all of 3 miles anyway. Then the nightmare began again as the inside became flooded by petrol vapour. There were profuse apologies yesterday when the garage checked it over and conceded that the mechanic had inadvertently nicked the seal on a hose causing a vapour leak. They sorted it as a matter of priority and thankfully I am fully mobile once again. I was straight back to the gym and a weights class this morning. Talk about being out of practice. The weights were fine, but I forgot my trainer shoes and water bottle! All part of retirement's rich tapestry of incompetence and brain fog, or perhaps, after reducing life to walking pace, speeding it up a...
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Dream or Nightmare?

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   It sounded a little too good to be true when we received an email at the beginning of the week from the remediation company contracted by the insurers, suggesting that we could feasibly be back in our home by Christmas. The day dreaming began and the pace of work in the rooms upstairs that we are decorating quickened. Little by little, however, we realised the serious pitfalls of such a situation, not least because notice to terminate the lease on our temporary accommodation would need to be given this month with no certainty that we would actually be able to return as indicated. Corners would need to be cut and/or we would be returning to somewhere only half finished with no prospect of entertaining family over the Christmas holidays.  Then nightmare of nightmares, because the tenancy end date would actually be 25th December, I had visions of cleaning and clearing two houses at the point when most people might be sitting back, slippers on, waiting for Santa Claus to p...
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Not Broken, Just Broke

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  Back on 20th October, I posted an entry here referring to my broken house, my broken car and mused over whether I could be broken too.  By way of update, garage number one was unable to fix my car and in desperation I took it to the specialists at garage number two. They assure me they know what's wrong and a day's minor surgery should have Miss Scarlet back on the road again. Of course bad news followed the good in the form of the quotation. I'm not yet broken, but I shall be broke!  
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Empty Nest Syndrome

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The youngest arrived on Saturday morning and left to return to London this afternoon. It was a quick visit but we managed to squeeze in a trip to see my mother, a meal out, a visit to the cinema and a good old fashioned Sunday dinner. It all felt very busy, although the youngest has never been loud, the house was noisier than we have become accustomed to, and there just wasn't as much time to spend together as we would have liked. Seeing her off at the station was a moving experience but, of course, it's only a few more weeks until she'll be home for a month. Upon my return and, solely out of interest I assure you, I found myself looking up Empty Nest Syndrome on Wikipedia.  Apparently all parents are susceptible but those who are dealing with other stressful events such as, and it cites "retirement" as a specific example, are particularly vulnerable! Oh dear! However, it does point out that coping mechanisms include pursuing one's own hobbies an...
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Never Say Never, But..

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  In my blogpost on September 8th , I described the challenge of undertaking an online course in Health and Nutrition. I am pleased to report that the final assignment was completed and submitted on Friday. Whilst I did my best to spread the workload over the time allowed, there was so much to complete that I still felt under pressure and far removed from the carefree retirement state I now consider normality. On the plus side, it felt like a new experience and I do feel far more knowledgeable than previously; I also appreciate the practical implications of what I have learnt and am already conscious of making changes as a result. However, I would like to think that even wild horses will not drag me back to the classroom. I do so much prefer the stimulation of active practical learning and creativity. So it was that during September I also undertook the restoration of an old Ercol rocking chair that my grandmother had given me when I was only a toddler. It was a dark, stained finis...
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Blind Making the Blind

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I shall begin with the proviso that I am unsure whether or not the statistics I am about to quote are correct, but I do know that Pareto would at least approve. So: I am one of the 20% of women who own a sewing machine. Until  last week I was also one of the 80% of women who own a sewing machine and do not use it. However, in a sudden burst of creative activity my reliable little dressmaking aide has been placed on the desk in the eldest's bedroom which, since he did kind of leave home seven years ago, I am slowly taking over as craft room. The task which I set myself was to make a window blind for the small box room in the Nottingham property. The previous blind had given up the ghost but an inspection suggested to me that it would not be beyond the wit of man nor indeed Caree's limited ability to replicate the design. I confess I have never made a blind in my life before. To be honest I would also struggle to recall anything I have ever made with the sewin...
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