A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

There is no doubt that of late one of the prime divisions in this country must be between those who have some kind of outdoor space attached to their home and those who do not. I am fortunate to fall into the former group and have been making the most of the fair spring weather to sow vegetable seeds in the greenhouse whilst planting onion and potato sets outside. In fact, I'm so up to date in the garden that after turning compost and sweeping paths, I've had to resort to sitting outside with a book and cup of tea to make the most of the brilliant sunshine whilst avoiding indoor chores.  Life is certainly confusing at the present time. The May blossom in our hedge has been and gone, yet perhaps Spring only truly arrived today when we heard the first cuckoo call. I gather, however, that it has been significantly warmer further south than our little patch of North Yorkshire garden. It's little wonder, therefore, that for some city dwellers complying with the He

Image by Arturs Budkevics from Pixabay "What are you going to do about your hair?" That's been a popular refrain from Mister E of late. Seriously, I don't think it's too bad, after all I had it cut quite short not long before all hairdressers were ordered to shut shop and it never looks great at the best of times. Also, I made a useful decision in retirement to let it grow into its now natural colour, a mix of grey and white, so there are no roots to worry about. I have had a hankering for some time to dye it a soft pastel shade. However, there is no hair dye in the house and it hardly counts as essential shopping so, despite the fact that an enforced period of staying at home would of course be a wonderful time to experiment, I guess it is not going to happen. I did find myself chatting over the wall to a neighbour who confessed that her husband had "done her roots" for her. Desperate times! Mister E is very handy and an excellent

Yes, I had an afternoon out recently. To be fair, it was more like 20 minutes but in the present circumstances every excursion is exciting and can form the highlight of the day. It certainly beats waiting to watch your dustbins being emptied. On this occasion, it was a trip to our pop-up Post Office. Every Friday afternoon the Postmaster arrives in the village and sets up his computer terminal in the community hall enabling all manner of transactions to take place. I had a cheque to pay in and rather than a 10 mile journey to town to the nearest ATM, thought I would make use of this rural service. I was inevitably concerned at the prospect of meeting a queue of people jostling for position but based on a population of less than 500  the chances of meeting more than 2 people in the hall are always pretty slim. There was no need to worry anyway as I was the only customer. There was a reason for this when it transpired that the computer was having an "off day," although I was as

Absent from my blog for a week; confess, did you think  I might have caught it? In truth I've been making the most of dry and sunny days, not necessarily always warm but fair enough to get into the garden. It's only mid April and the vegetable patch and greenhouse sowings at Casa Risover have never been so far advanced at this time of year before. Let's hope we don't have a series of frosty nights or they'll be back to square one. The bright days have encouraged both blossom and spring blooms; the daffodils are dying back and being rapidly replaced by tulips. It's a far cry from 33 years ago today when Mister E and I got married and I recall wondering if sufficient daffodils would actually be in flower to provide a colourful backdrop to the wedding photos. 16th April that year was a pleasant Spring day too, and the photo album shows plenty of spots of yellow amongst the bare trees and hedgerows. This year, our hedge has rapidly turned green and, inevitably, I

It's curious the little rituals we have embraced in this strange new life of solitude and social distancing. It started with hand-washing and then logic suggested that we ought to be wary too of other ways we could bring Covid 19 into the home. If people have to be quarantined when they come into contact with it, what about all those plastic, paper and cardboard surfaces that are brought into the house on a daily basis? Are they virus free when we are told this thing lives on some surfaces for up to 72 hours? The speculation began and then, in my capacity as Parish Clerk, I received various protocols for handling and disinfecting goods to be passed to the elderly and vulnerable. Life was so much simpler when you knew  your daily risks were primarily crossing the road or negotiating a flight of stairs. On the basis, of course, that you can rarely eliminate all dangers, the additional steps taken to protect ourselves involve little more than leaving deliveries outside in the sunshine

Moonshine is playing an increasing part in life here at the hermitage. To be fair I'm not talking strong liquor, especially of the illicit kind, although it was such a pleasant evening that Mister E actually sipped on a Negroni whilst sitting out on our patio this evening. I've reached that stage of solitude where simply staring at a glass of wine instantly puts a pound around my waistline, so, in recovery mode from another YouTube fitness video using a Swiss ball this time, I retreated for a shower. Now, darkness has fallen and I'm looking up at the moon again. It's supposed to be a pink supermoon but, as ever, my imagination never quite stretches further than trying to spot the cheese from which it is reputedly made. It is, however, definitely a full, rounded moon, quite different from the slender fingernail edge of a new crescent moon that must have been two weeks ago. That new moon appeared in the nightsky the evening after we were told about the restrictions on our

So much for the promise of warm weather; it was stifling inside my greenhouse but outside a blustery wind demanded a couple of layers of insulation. To add insult to injury the Health Secretary mandated everybody to cease sunbathing. I know we are meant to be hardy souls "up North" but anyone sunbathing in our village today would have had to be seriously deranged too. The fear, however, is that what's happening in London parks could result in serious restrictions on the freedom to exercise that we are safely enjoying in this area. Just in case, Mister E went off to enjoy a long bike ride whilst I stuck to sowing seeds and deadheading daffodils. Now life has become so restricted we appreciate the liberties we have so much more. I also seem to be spending more time talking on the telephone or via the Internet but with far less to say. When I ended up describing to one family member the finer details of hanging out the washing, I realised to what extent the limitations on da

Image by Michael Gaida from Pixabay Immersed in gardening today, I was musing as to the prospect of actually developing green fingers. A detailed inspection failed to reveal any, although the dirt from the earth certainly lent a hue of its own to my palm. It's funny, I never used to like my hands. Small with wrinkled digits, I needed them at work to shake hands, hold a dictating machine and type or take written notes. They always seemed to me rather ugly and the thought of giving them special care, least of all nail polish that might draw attention in their direction, was very much avoided. Now, in retirement, they have been coming into their own and I feel finally that, as I mature, I am growing into them. Of course it could be that with all the hand washing that has been going on of late, everybody else has developed wrinkled hands too and mine now look totally normal. However, I'm clearly digressing as the impact of social distancing and weakening eyesight means I quite simp

I'm thinking this blog could become a schedule of all those places I was planning to visit, but haven't. (Today Mister E and I were meant to be in Amsterdam.) However, the last thing I want it to be is a tale of woe and missing out. Retirement is all about new experiences as well as places and in the case of Amsterdam, as you can guess from the photographs, I have been on a number of occasions before. Whilst there can't be many people who have a pandemic on their bucket list, I have to admit that the past week has certainly offered up opportunities to wander, metaphorically, through pastures new. I've previously described the surreal experiences of collecting medication from the surgery and shopping for groceries as well as doing HIIT to YouTube videos.   I've even referred to streamed Pilates classes where elegant West Coast ladies with beautiful smiles coax you to stretch; there are occasions though when my muscles have found out that their sparkling pearly te