A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

  (Image by David Reed from Pixabay) It might be all those Scandi-noir series we watched last year or, now I've matured a little, an aversion to the millennial green gracing our walls but, entrenched in decorating and decluttering, I'm aiming for a minimalist feel. So much so, that today we decided on a trip to IKEA for some wooden storage boxes to complete the look of the upstairs area that I'm very gradually painting at the moment. An incentive to finish what I've started if you like and believe me, with the contents of one large cupboard strewn all over the landing, I do need to get on. Trouble is we only got half way there when the tyre pressure warning light popped up on the dashboard. I slowly drove off the motorway to the nearest garage which, as we'd hoped, had an air supply. A visual inspection failed to reveal an obvious puncture, so Mister E sprang into action, checking the pressure for each of the tyres and then inflating the culprit. Of course that the

  Mister E and I had our second vaccine inoculations yesterday. It was quite a carnival atmosphere in the sunshine with everyone in sunglasses, some in shorts, many stopping to soak up the sun on the benches by the pond whilst others had reserved seats at the terrace cafe. All it needed was an ice cream seller and the quintessential summer's day vibe would have been complete. Not that Mister E and I would have partaken, as we had travelled equipped with our own provisions, determined to make the most of the warm spring day with a picnic. Leaving the vaccination centre at Leyburn behind, we drove up the dale onto the top of Grinton Moor, stopping at an isolated spot at the edge of the road. The view was stunning but with a bitter north wind blowing across the hills, we had to add another two layers over our T-shirts.  This was no ordinary picnic either, as Mister E magicked folding chairs from the boot of the car, along with plates, cutlery and a culinary feast from out of a large c

  Following all those packages I referred to in my last blog post, this arrived today: Biological Substance Category B.  I've been invited to participate in a study to assess the level of immunity to COVID-19 within the population. Why not, I thought. After all, as well as contributing to the research, it might be interesting to learn just how protected I am at the moment, coming up for my second dose of  the vaccine. I might also gain some insight as to the general situation from the summary of the study outcome that will be forwarded to participants, Of course it could end up being a blow to my confidence as we begin to merge again with the outside world but at least I should have a slightly better idea of the risk level. Meanwhile, if anyone can explain why, just when restrictions are being relaxed, I have finally opened those cans of paint that I bought 13 months ago for decorating during lockdown, I'd be most grateful. Is it really a sub-conscious excuse to  stay at home,

  Every now and again a Gangster Granny makes front page headlines when she's caught dealing in drugs. HM Prison Holloway isn't where I want to spend my retirement but obviously there is a small minority that thinks differently.  During lockdown we have been surrounded by neighbours with not only courier deliveries but also collections. Laughingly Mister E and I have come to the rather comic conclusion that it must be opiates. Were you to meet these upstanding members of our community, you would understand how ridiculous the notion is. Sadly, however, if they could see the contents of the parcels I have handled of late, they might be forgiven for assuming my own guilt.  A few days ago I despatched a DNA test. Tracking down my ancestors has reached the stage where the need to mix spittle and stabilising fluid has overridden the long and desperate wait for the reopening of the County Records office. Honestly it felt truly odd posting a phial containing that blend off to a laborat

  So the pandemic restrictions are eased to enable two households or up to 6 people to meet outdoors and what happens next? Just like the rhyme: the north wind doth blow and we shall have snow. Well it cetainly made for a chilly Easter weekend when we caught up with various parts of our family that we hadn't seen for months, braving the cold to sit in gardens in winter coats and mittens. Mister E even resurrected a fetching bright red Michelin Man-style jacket last worn trekking in the Himalayas. Chic indeed. I relied on a thermal vest and porridge for breakfast! This week, non-essential shops have opened again along with beer gardens and restaurants on the terrace, just in case we start to feel a little too cosy indoors. Nothing much has altered in our behaviour as yet though; "lockdown-lite" I think it's called. Meanwhile, and because of the hard overnight frosts, all the seeds I enthusiastically sowed last month are enjoying the B&B experience in my utility roo

  One of the joys of retirement isn't so much the opportunity to enjoy creativity but rather to embrace again one's playful side. I succeeded in combining the two over my coffee breaks this week when I went into Easter Bunny knitting mode. To be truthful they are chocolate creme egg cosies, although why I should think that a creme egg needs to be kept cosy is something that I am finding impossible to explain. With spare wool left over from a baby-knit and espying a simple and free pattern online from To Be Adorned, I just couldn't resist. Happy Easter!