A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

Yes, 30 days later and I have survived the terrors of the #minsgame . No cheating and in all I calculate that I have thrown out 496 objects. So how does it feel? Has my life improved as a result and do I feel unburdened? Well I certainly have space on shelves, in cupboards, wardrobes and drawers where previously there was none. I have also totally shocked and shamed myself  by uncovering items that I could hardly believe I hadn't actually flung years ago, like the almost obsolete video tapes which I jettisoned today. I confess, however, that I do still have a collection of work suits albeit reduced in number!  As I look around now,  I know that there is still a long way to go before I achieve that minimalist look and the benefits of simplicity that I am seeking. Nonetheless, after a calendar month, I have changed my attitude to hanging onto possessions simply because I feel they might come in useful even when I have no obvious current use for them. Going ...

When you go to the gym and then wake up the next day with aches in muscles that you didn't know you had, there are inevitably occasions when you wonder if exercising is as good for you as it is made out to be. Indeed my worst ever injury resulting in breaks to my ankle, tibia and fibula, took place whilst playing sport, albeit many years ago. However, information published recently in the British Journal of Sports Science suggests that, even in men aged 73, thirty minutes of moderate to vigorous physical activity a day will extend life expectancy by five years. Get in there, my fitness craze is continuing.

T his morning I proceeded from Fitball (where you do all kinds of awful things to your body, in the interests of strengthening your core, whilst holding an enormous ball) to Aquafit (where you do all kinds of awful things to your body in a swimming pool). This was all undertaken as part of my quest for health and fitness, of course, although I'm certain one of my recent classes must have been responsible for a knotted muscle which has been causing me to suffer an ugly pain. Having decided that the best policy, in addition to massaging it, is to try to stretch it out, I am of course continuing to put myself through the agony of fitness classes.  In reality they are good fun, although I had to pinch myself at one point this morning in the pool when  I thought that I was going to burst into laughter. Looking at myself holding a giant woggle, it would have been hard to convince anybody that I was not participating in some kind of organised entertainment at a post-war ho...

I have always loved books and envisaged that in retirement there would be ample opportunity to read the piles of novels that pervade so many rooms in our home. If truth be known, whilst I certainly find the time to read more than I did before I retired, I am still making slow progress in getting through what is probably at least one lifetime's worth of reading material within our four walls. I am a member of a reading group which meets every six weeks to discuss a chosen book and in between I always try to read another two or three books. I have fairly broad tastes in literature, reading everything from Milton and Chaucer to contemporary writers, of whom my favourites are Ian McEwan and Sebastian Faulks. I usually avoid science fiction, however, and, when in need of simple, no-thought entertainment, immerse myself in an easy to read chick-lit. Holidays, especially whilst travelling on aeroplanes, are a great time for reading. Last week was no exception although, cons...

Mister E and I returned from a week on Santorini on Wednesday. Unfortunately the return flight was somewhat delayed and it was 4.15 am when we got home after driving back from Manchester airport. With a time difference of two hours between BST and Greece, it felt like 6.15 am and we were well and truly exhausted. Note to ourselves: try to book morning flights in future to avoid such occurrences. Mind talking to the lady on the plane next to me I couldn't help but feel smug at the fact that, unlike her, I did not have to be at work for 9 am. I had last visited Santorini in 1979 just after I had graduated, when I joined an unwashed mass of under 25's from Britain, Germany and France, sleeping on beaches as we all island hopped around the Aegean. This time, I am pleased to report, that Mister E and I had very comfortable accommodation in a delightful hotel and there was not a sleeping bag to be seen on the neighbouring beach. Thirty six years ago I had arriv...

Whilst staying on Santorini last week, Mister E and I spotted this sign. I reproduce it here because it accurately sums up so many of the values that I have adopted and how we seek to live our retirement. (With thanks to Tranquilo at Perissa, Santorini)

So many people feel they cannot afford to retire and whilst this may be true for some, there are others who have not done the maths. Before Mister E and I decided to take the plunge, we felt that it was important that we worked out the extent of our expenditure as opposed simply to an income and savings forecast. We accordingly tracked and broke down our spending, then, satisfied that the kind of retirement we sought was indeed an affordable option, jumped in. We have continued to analyse our expenditure and, as we anticipated, in retirement spend less on some areas (primarily car expenses and clothing) and more on others (travel, leisure and incidental costs in particular). Surprisingly utility bills which we had assumed might increase significantly with our daily presence have not done so, presumably offset by our various absences. The most important thing, however, is that by now knowing what we use our money for, we are in control and, sh...

I have received wise words in 140 characters from a fellow Tweeter. "Don't over volunteer,"was the impact of the message. Swapping work for retirement at first leads you to believe that you will suddenly have a spare forty hours a week. Believe me it is not like that. Retirees don't go around saying they "don't know how they ever found the time to go to work,"  for nothing. However and in that honeymoon phase there can be an incentive to fill the hours freed by not working with other commitments. I was fortunate to have taken on board some advice that I received before retiring which was not to commit to anything new in the first twelve months and am so glad that I listened. Whilst I have been able to give more time to the voluntary bodies with which I was involved prior to retirement, I have also been able to indulge myself in a variety of ways as no doubt regular readers of this blog will appreciate. I have tried and continue to try ...

I recently read an article by Oliver Burkeman in The Guardian in which he queried whether or not we can have a meaningful life without a sense of continuity.  It transpires that most people are Diachronic. That is to say that their life is a single story, moving from one stage to another, each stage connected by many threads to both its prequel and sequel. There are, however, others who are Episodic. The various periods of their lives have seemingly no connection with what has gone before. Experiences are remembered but have no bearing on where and who the person is now, and there is no obvious order to the random episodes lived. I suspect that it is family and friends that very much root us to our past and help provide the running continuum that takes us from birth, school, work and ultimately into retirement. However, Diachronics can be anxious about what they have done with their lives and that continuous thread can prevent the vital change that would really ...

Here am I thinking that I have been going to a gym regularly. Today I examined the sign on the door and it actually says Fitness Suite. I am not sure why, but I was quite bowled over by the distinction. For me Fitness Suite has a certain "je ne sais quoi." After all it is the place I go to and put in enormous amounts of effort in an endeavour to acquire an element of fitness. When I told my mother, she misheard, as is her way, and seemed to think that I was buying a new three piece. When I told Mister E, he asked if it was the equivalent of one of those protein shakes. Okay, I got the message: I went to the gym today!

S o I managed to stay up until 4.15 am and was back up to follow the televised coverage of the election at 8.30 am. I now feel pretty bad on two counts: the result and fatigue. I am not sure what I was really expecting the outcome to be, but with my love for colour would have been content to see the possible emergence of a rainbow coalition with a few progressives in there pressing for a reduction in austerity and much needed changes in society. In retirement I now suspect that it is very easy to get cocooned in your own little philosophical bubble and perhaps become unaware of the political inclination of the country. Of course I was not alone in failing to anticipate the sudden leaning to the right resulting in a majority Conservative government; certainly the opinion polls were far off the mark too. Is it because people are already forgetting the horrors of the Tory years from 1979 to 1997 (or were even too young to experience them) ? Did the electorate really vote pu...

The polling stations have just closed and the counting of votes in our National Election will now begin. Retirement has meant that not only have I had more time to follow the campaigns of the various parties but have also been able to examine their manifestos and learn a little about current economic and political theory. With nobody able to predict a likely winner, it has also been one of the most intriguing election battles in my lifetime where and for once, we have heard from politicians who believe in society rather than simply markets, commodities and money. It is my plan to stay up tonight because and for the first time since 1979 I have no office to go to in the morning. Even in 1979 and with university finals looming, I recall going to bed not long after midnight, the result by that time being obvious and a gloom having descended, as a result, on my student house. Mister E and I have discussed whether or not to put champagne on ice in case the outcome shou...

It is said that there is a book inside everybody and that when writing you should ensure that you describe life as you have experienced it. No wonder, therefore, that so many books have an autobiographical element. Were I to set pen to paper then, and based on my experience this morning, I think I would have to call it "Death on a Trampoline." Come to think of it, that might even make a very nifty title for my autobiography as opposed to a fictional murder mystery. In my quest for health and fitness, I am continuing to seek out new experiences and sometimes, just occasionally they come to me. This morning that is exactly what happened when Tuesday morning Spin sessions at the gym have been replaced by Boogie Bounce. Ever one to indulge in the novelty of a new challenge I thought that I would give it a go. Basically you take up position on a mini trampoline and then for 45 minutes, whilst music blares out, the instructor yells at you to bounce in one direction or ...

Today I tried my hand at some DIY. You know the kind of thing: you wear old clothes and do something messy whilst holding a tool or two. In my case I decided it was time to put together the poppy I have been storing from the Tower of London's magnificent display in its moat last year. Following the instructions in the box, I amassed gardening gloves, a hammer and no I baulked at eye protection (nanny state gone crazy unless someone thought I was actually likely to stab myself in the eye with the stalk). The trouble was that when I analysed the contents it was only to discover that I had been supplied with two washers the same size and no spacer to actually fit inside the poppy head. Mister E came to the rescue with a collection of assorted plastic washers that he had been hanging onto, just in case (I know it defeats the letting go principles of the #minsgame ), and out we went into the garden. Sadly there was no need for the ham...

Oh dear, throwing away objects is not my strong point. It is not that I even like material possessions but, as I am discovering, clearly suffer from an innate ability to see a potential usefulness in so many defunct items as well as a blind spot when it comes to identifying which well loved and comfortable pieces of clothing are past their sell by dates. I really want to reform because by the same token I relish the idea of a clear home and there is a minimalist in there somewhere trying to get out. So Day 3 of the #minsgame and, after trying to kid myself that an empty tube of toothpaste might count but finally realising that was cheating, I rearranged my wardrobe, storing away winter layers and bringing out clothes that I had not seen since last year. In the process I resolved to throw away three items. It was hard dear reader, so hard. In the end I settled on a pair of sandals that remain uncomfortable despite leaving them in the back of the wardrobe for six years presu...

Yesterday Mister E and I returned to York to deal with our unfinished business . The Aesthetica Exhibition in St Mary's Church (de-consecrated in 1958) was, shall we say, interesting! Neither as colourful nor as animating as I like, with a preponderance of monochrome and some depressing topics as well as a piece of sound art which actually made us appreciate the quiet of Coppergate when we left. The cherry blossom trees around the city walls were however in full bloom and more than made up for the grey within the art gallery. Whilst in York, we also collected an online order which had been delivered to a local shop  and comprised "retirement" clothing for the outdoors. I took it home knowing that I would need to throw some more of that office clothing away to make room for it. Sometimes the clutter at home and all those items I keep hanging onto thinking they may have a use one day can really get me down.  I was pleased, therefore, this morn...