A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

  We spent a week over Christmas in London at the home of the Eldest and Dilly. It was brilliant to spend so much time with our family (the youngest stayed too), especially with our granddaughter who reached the dizzy age of 10 months on Christmas Eve. As she's already becoming a confident walker after taking her first steps somewhat precociously over 2 months ago now, she was into everything. The ladies, however, chose to escape on the Saturday before Christmas, making our way to Pudding Hill Lane and the ABBA Arena for a performance of ABBA:Voyage. I'm not sure that I was fully prepared (platform shoes aside) for what to expect and confess to finding the whole experience somewhat surreal. It honestly felt as though we were at a live concert with ABBA on stage. Just how authentic are those virtual reality avatars? Forget botox and cosmetic surgery, this has to be the obvious route to eternal youth. Trouble is, with my singing voice, I doubt anybody would be interested in prese

  I know that across the world there are so many communities that through war, natural disasters or lack of funding for infrastructure are going without what we in the West regard as basic necessities. Contaminated water alone brings so much illness and disease. The statistics are appalling. According to Water Aid’s website,  almost 1 in 10 people globally do not have access locally to clean water. Back at Chez Nous, retired life has had some luxury restored to it with a temporary connection from the new water pipe to the house. After laboratory testing early in January, we are confident that the Do Not Drink Notice will be revoked. The best Christmas present ever! It would be wonderful if we could share it with those who will continue without but, in the absence of some truly miraculous Christmas magic, I guess a charity donation must suffice. In the meantime my best wishes too for your very own Happy Christmas.

  Yesterday I had one of my regular monthly meet-ups with a very dear friend. In the summer months, we normally include a long walk in our itinerary; in the winter we tend to fequent museums and art galleries. There was no mistaking what time of year it was on this occasion, not least when we had a mince pie each with our coffee. I set off in the dark and returned in the dark, there was a definite chill to the air and the trains I used to reach our rendezvous were crowded with Christmas shoppers and charity fund raisers dressed as elves! It is often said that, in the words of TS Eliot, "The journey, not the destination matters." In so far as I enjoyed the thrill of the train ride, I agree. I used a newly downloaded app to be guided to the correct platform for train changes and daringly managed the whole trip with only digital barcodes on my phone; both novel experiences for this retired traveller who normally likes to err on the side of caution with everything printed out in

  No, it may be 9th December but I haven't yet been to a Christmas  Disco. I know there's something about regressing as you age but going back to those teenage years when the whole of December seemed like one endless party isn't something I've yet subscribed to in retirement. That said, the Fitness Studio at the gym was recently upgraded to include vertical fluorescent strip lights on the walls that can be set to flash and change colour. Far superior in fact to the projected colours at the local community hall that my 15 year old self  frequented. In Keep Fit to Music the other day, the memories came flooding back, even if I was lying on the floor at the time in a hip bridge. I assure you it had nothing to do with any historic attempt at break dancing (which, in my youth, certainly hadn't caught on where I grew up). Rather, I think it was inspired by the Christmas soundtrack that the instructor had introduced by way of seasonal gesture.  All those Christmas melodies

  We had our regular annual review with our Financial Advisor this week. The investments that sustain our pension funds remain stagnant as we were already aware, but the good news is that, regardless, he recommends spending them on exploring Planet Retirement. Money matters but so does fulfilment. Obviously, first Covid and then this year the requirement for our presence to resolve the leaking oil issue, have both intervened to curtail our travels and experiences. Consequently, he echoed our concern that we don't want to miss out for too long, ending up in frail health and unable to realise lifetime ambitions.  We are so conscious of this and whilst vague plans are frustrated at present, it's good to have ratification from a third party. How easy it must be in retirement to slip into sitting at home in splendid isolation adopting the attitude that venturing out is only hassle. There may be a time in the future when we have to embrace that restricted lifestyle but for the moment

How do the truly elderly navigate bureaucracy? Recently I had an uncomfortable experience from checking an older relative's energy bill. Her gas and electricity come from one of our largest providers and back in August when I had conducted the same check, I submitted meter readings for her, naively thinking that her direct debit payments would be reduced because of the credit that had built up. Now why ever would I think that an energy supplier might behave decently and do this, especially for somebody whom it has listed as a vulnerable person? Yesterday it was apparent that instead not only had the direct debit payment been increased but the credit was now running into 4 figures and so far as I could see approximated a whole year's supply of energy. Not wanting to telephone, because I really can't stand those awful "Your call is important to us," messages as you hold for eternity, I decided to try the chat bot. I succinctly explained that we were looking for a re

  Hunkering down from the wintry weather, I've picked up a piece of embroidery that I must have begun over twenty years ago, possibly just after the youngest was born. I have a vague recollection of working on it again upon the birth of a niece or nephew but essentially it has lain untouched in a drawer for two decades. Memory plays tricks, so when I saw it there I was convinced that it was almost complete, only to unfold it and discover quite the contrary. On the basis that I'm always up for a challenge in retirement and there's nothing to entice me to venture out this weekend, I decided to concentrate on endeavouring, at long last, to finish it. Clearly you don't call it cross-stitch for nothing. In fact I'd go so far as to say you don't call it cross stitch because of its shape and intersecting lines. Rather the name must surely derive from the vexing nature of pushing needle through cotton and back at the exact points required by the pattern and all the whil

  I guess the title Christmas Yoga conjures up images of various poses in Santa Claus hats. Whilst a few eager contemporaries squeezed in a yoga session yesterday morning, the rest of us waited until early afternoon to make an appearance in the function room of a local public house for a festive get together. In retirement large Christmas social events can be pretty much non-existent. Indeed I'm sure I've left the days of polite conversation, wine and canapes under a ceiling of gawdy decorations, behind me in the business world. Yesterday was something quite different. A group of approximately 2 dozen retired ladies, who are committed to practising Yoga (at least now and again), dispensed with their leggings and instead congregated in their best frocks to enjoy a Christmas dinner together. The bar did a roaring trade, a relatively sedate quiz became a raucous affair and the laughter, chatting and occasional outbreak of song, went on for more than 4 hours. There were crackers an

  The Eldest and Dilly completed the purchase of their first home in August but have continued to live elsewhere whilst they restore and decorate to their satisfaction. Yesterday I visited a niece who has only just moved back into her house after a period of 6 months, again to allow refurbishment to take place. It all makes Mister E's and my desire to remain in our home whilst the floors are drilled out, despite knowing that the facilities we have access to will be reduced, appear a little bizarre.  Are we stalwarts from another age? Has retirement rendered us incapable of coping with change? Are we simply showing early signs of cognitive decline? Have we entered an era of indolence? I guess it's hard to explain our thought processes, especially to those younger family members who have willingly left their homes vacant and sought to avoid disturbance and potential misery by basing themselves elsewhere. To be honest, I'm not sure I can even explain our reasoning to myself. W

  This morning I awoke in the Loch Lomond and Trossachs National Park, at Crianlarich which is often described as the Gateway to the Highlands.  I had not been kidnapped, so rising there was no surprise as Mister E and I had travelled up as part of a pre-winter visit to the Retirement Project.   I always love waking in the Scottish countryside. It doesn't matter where, as inevitably you are surrounded by the vastness of  landscape. The photographs hardly do the location justice, snatched as they were quickly on my mobile phone at first light and before Mister E scraped the ice from the windscreen and we headed westwards to the coast and marina. Whenever I stay away from home, I never cease imagining what it would be like to live in that place permanently. Retirement is obviously the perfect opportunity to relocate to the perfect fantasy destination. Accepting that downsizing may be necessary at some point, where, with an almost infinite choice, would we downsize to? Flights of fanc

  The rain seems to have been non-stop for days now, sometimes heavy, sometimes less so but incessant regardless. Then just when I thought we had seen the last of big holes on the drive, our illusions were shattered. A truck arrived to collect the skip that contained the contaminated hardcore dug out mainly from behind the house a couple of months ago. Despite the weather, the driver was well-dressed for the conditions and appeared to have everything under control until the moment, skip loaded, he moved to drive back onto the road. As his front wheel trundled over the reinstated driveway above the trench that had been filled, didn't it just go and collapse! Of course, this being a project controlled by loss adjusters, we have no say in the way the work is conducted, but honestly you couldn't make it up. If we'd been employing them directly we'd be beginning to suspect we'd hired cowboys. As it is, I've been checking so far as I can to ensure all jobs comply wit

  A little after 4pm and it was so black outside that we had to put the lights on. Storm Debi has been making itself known all day with heavy rain and a strong wind. In fact the weather was so disgusting that after a brief foray for Yoga and Pilates classes I was glad to get home and hunker down. Contending with foul conditions on top of everything else only adds to the torment and tension. I've always said that one of the benefits of retirement has been an ability to follow the seasons and live life accordingly but I'm not so sure about relating to or synchronising with these short, dark, depressing days.  When I was last able to get out into the garden for a limited tidy up in readiness for what feels like a fast approaching winter, I noticed that we appear to be hosting a hedgehog's nest behind some shrubbery. It made me wonder whether hibernation might actually be an appropriate way to harmonise with the coming months. It's been a pattern of our retirement to try to

This past week, there has been progress. A small mechanical digger, a wheelbarrow and shovels plus 2 men to operate them have wreaked havoc on our drive. They dug a trench from water meter to house wall and then into the garage, laying the new waterpipe complete with aluminium barrier.  With piles of earth everywhere, along with that trench, it was hard not to recall the throw away comment of the Project Manager months ago when he indicated that once they started to dig, the garden would resemble the Somme. He wasn't far off. Fortunately they've done a good job of putting everything back the way it should be. Now it's simply a question of waiting for the plumber to connect the house fittings to the pipe, followed swiftly by the joining of the new pipe to the water meter and at that point our supply of safe drinking water from the tap should resume. Talk about excitement; it won't be a moment too early when it happens. I think the fervour hit the Project Manager too as h

Whilst older people are often happier than in their earlier years, after 60 (linked to retirement and health issues) it seems that self esteem and confidence can begin to deteriorate. A group of us discussed this over coffee today between gym classes. Blame was attributed to a variety of factors including the long Covid lockdowns, physical afflictions, loss and grief and, in the last couple of years, so many bad news stories emanating from wars or climate change. In no way do I feel exempt from the potential impact. There's so much out there at the personal level and on the wider horizon that can frighten me to bits were I to let it. Knowing how easy it was to end up on a hospital trolley hooked up to a heart monitor and drip in the Emergency Department; the difficulty getting travel insurance as a result; catching Covid on holiday ; the demise and serious illnesses of close family members as well as others I have known ; the ongoing issues with my knee ; they are all playing a ro

  On Friday we went to a House Building and Renovation Show. After building our current home (well we didn't actually lay the bricks ourselves, but you get my gist) 24 years ago, we do not have any intention of repeating the experience in retirement. We love the finished product but the memory of the stress and hassle of getting there, militates against doing it all again. A sport for younger people you might say. We've always been happy with our home, so much so that, and despite the decluttering, we still haven't seriously contemplated down-sizing which I'm advised is a must at some point in the future. As for remodelling, well that's always sounded like even more hassle than building afresh.  We were potentially the show's most lukewarm visitors, surrounded as we were by a throng of amateur but enthusiastic would-be developers. Our presence was, of course, encouraged by the thought that ripping our house apart to deal with the contamination under it could be

  In a pique of organisation, I actually completed and submitted my tax return a few days ago. It avoided my usual rush before the 31st January deadline and is making me feel very smug indeed. Whilst accessing my online tax account, I thought I would take a peep at the National Insurance section and double-check that all is in order for payment of my state pension when I finally become entitled in a little over 4 months' time. Assurances by my financial advisor after I made a voluntary contribution at his suggestion and an official forecast several years ago suggested that I shall receive a full state pension at what has been an ever shifting qualification age.  I confess that I had never explored the record in much depth, relying instead on professional advice and the calculations undertaken by the government and sent to me by letter. With hindsight, I perhaps should have left things to rest there. However, when taking a glance (and breathing a sigh of relief that all still remain

  Reverting to our headache of an oil leak , there was finally progress this week. Firstly we had confirmation that the loss adjuster has approved the strategy for the installation of a new waterpipe as well as the clean up operation. Secondly, but perhaps more ominously, the loss adjuster's surveyor visited primarily to take photographs in case the proposed works cause cracking or other damage He didn't simply confine himself to the areas where the digging out will take place inside and out, but also photographed the rest of our downstairs including the rooms that were decorated only a few months ago. Thank goodness we have had the foresight to hold back on replacing the soft furnishings and lighting, although we have been hoping to escape with dust rather than fractures to the walls. Resilience and optimism remain high even if we struggle to gather clouds with silver linings. It's not how we would have planned this stage of retirement  but we have to appreciate what we do

  Somebody recently told me that they'd enjoyed modelling, participating as a favour at a charitable event for the first time this summer. Handbags, sunglasses and high heels with quick changes in between each outfit. In retirement I'm keen to try many things but I'm definitely not glamorous enough to ever consider stepping onto a catwalk, so felt in no way tempted to give it a go. Earlier in the month , however, I referred to my need for active diversions to the ongoing headache caused by the oil leak. Last week, I too found it in modelling. In my case, however, it was of the clay variety when I signed up for a Highland Cow Sculpting workshop. Didn't I just love it. A far cry from the plasticine of my childhood, clay is altogether more malleable if somewhat messier too. I even got to play with an extruder in order to create all that long hair. My piece has now gone to be fired and although there's every probability that it will have crumbled before we're reunit

  Of late, suffering from the anguish of various aches and pains, I've been reminded of the lyrics from Dem Bones. With a pain from the hip to the knee, I seem to have had more than an implicit understanding that the knee bone is connected to the thigh bone and the thigh bone to the hip bone. Of course, in my case the cause has been primarily muscular but it still hasn't prevented those lyrics going round and round in my head.  My knees suffer from degeneration and arthritis mainly as a consequence, I suppose, of  numerous meniscus tears. There's a long history there with incidents going back as far as my twenties with disco-dancing, skiing and even wind-surfing. As somebody recently said to me, "Well at least you had lots of fun damaging them!" Frankly, I'm not sure that was necessarily case; certainly not the time my knee gave way jumping down from the airport shuttle bus on the way to the Alps and I arrived in the resort already hopping on one leg and never

  What is it about water that entices us? Like all living things we need it to survive but how often have you read claims about its healing powers and the sense of well-being that it brings? The health claims extend to a myriad of wellness spas, not to mention the explosion in popularity of wild swimming. I cannot claim that going in search of running water is part of our strategy to build resilience . Indeed a brief trip last week might be better described as an escape from the issues that are besetting us. However, it's amazing how spending the night in a small hotel less than 40 miles away really satisfied that desire for peace and contentment and not just because we had tap water that we could actually drink and clean our teeth with!   After meeting a friend at Barnard Castle for the day, Mister E and I headed onwards up into the heart of Teesdale. We were blessed with benign conditions and as well as clean drinking water, soaked up the sight, sound and majesty of not one but t

    Life has a habit of throwing misfortune our way. Retirement is no exception to that rule and indeed as we age we are more likely to encounter and face the demise of loved ones, health issues and increasing frailty of body and even mind. There are also those day to day issues that we might find harder to deal with, not to mention the unexpected shocks and surprises ready to leap out when we least expect them. The main advantage we have in retirement is a lifetime of experience in dealing with adverse circumstances. We are now in the advantageous position of building on that experience and developing still further our resilience.  Action for Happiness identifies resilience as one of the 10 keys to a happy life. Resilience doesn't mean that we are no longer impacted by awful situations but instead that we can overcome both the crisis and the stress and anxiety it brings to us, enabling us to move on positively, build on our fortitude and learn from the ordeal. Sinc

   A few weeks ago I bought a singing bowl whilst visiting a Nepalese craft fair. There's a certain skill to inducing a sound but once perfected the effect is a harmonious reverberation that lingers for several minutes. Sitting cross-legged which is never easy with my unstable right knee, the bowl induces a feeling of calm and self-compassion.  It's another stopping place on my path of discovery in the world of retirement. So much so that two weekends ago I attended a Sound and Meditation workshop which left me tingling with the vibrations for 24 hours afterwards. Buoyed by the experience, last night I went to a soundbath in a village church some 15 miles away. Lying down in the darkness of the aisle, atop a yoga mat and huddled in layers and a blanket, I closed my eyes and let the oscillations take over. The sound, generated by various singing bowls, bells,  rattles  and  gongs , was complemented by the acoustics of the stone building and I pulsed from within. Sound baths are

  I can't say that I generally feel the cold. Indeed Mister E and I are happy to keep our house at a maximum temperature of 18 to 19 degrees celsius. It's just as well bearing in mind that we have had no oil supply to run the central-heating boiler for several weeks. That really didn't matter when we were being blessed with summer weather but the recent tilt into autumn has certainly not gone unnoticed. Whilst an inability to warm the bathroom radiators to dry towels, along with a lack of heat in the utility room for airing clothes has been a nuisance, it's hardly been a great bugbear. Gradually, however, there's been an increasing awareness of the chilly evenings and I've found myself reaching for a fleece to put on. With some heavy rain and no sunshine, the effect has become pronounced. So much so that, travelling to London on Saturday, I was really aware of arthritic inflammation and pain in my left hand. Whilst Mister E drove, I found myself rubbing the swol

  The state-pension triple lock has featured in media debate in recent weeks with speculation as to whether or not the Government is genuinely committed to maintaining it or not. Some politicians of course are not reticent in putting forward arguments for its abolition. I am a member of the cohort who, because of changes in Government policy, was denied her state pension at first 60, then with relatively short notice at 62 as well. Luckily, I am now growing in confidence that it might actually start to be paid when I attain 66; those only slightly younger than myself must wait until 67. Whether the pension, which we now have to work longer to earn in full, will be worth a realistic sum going forward, is of course dependent on the Government's commitment to the lock. There are those who argue that the country cannot afford the increases it guarantees and whereby the state pension rises annually in line with inflation, average wage growth or 2.5% whichever is the greater. What they o

  It is said that when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade. Embrace positivity and turn your misfortune into a beneficial and perhaps even enjoyable experience. I thought I'd come up with something similar within the constraints of my greenhouse recently. Somebody earlier in the year suggested that I grow cucamelons. I confess that I found the prospect of growing a cross between a melon and a cucumber rather exciting, duly sowed the seeds and nurtured the seedlings that followed. There was no hint on the seed packet as to how large the fruit grew and I think, understandably, I was expecting something perhaps mango sized.  When the plants became overcome by tiny fruit, at best 2 centimetres in length, I reached out to colleagues in the village gardening club for guidance. The consensus was that this was the limit of their size and that they go well as an addition to cocktails as well as being eaten as a sweet canap é . Reader, to my mind, they can best be described as an