A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

These days literature festivals abound with so many towns hosting, plus, of course, the bookshop tours and talks by authors when their new books are launched. It's many years since I went to such an event but last weekend I certainly made up for it. The Youngest was visiting, so we took the opportunity to spend Saturday afternoon in Durham City where its annual Book Festival was underway. A cold wind was blowing through the city centre, so after a bracing walk across the market square we were glad of our pre-booked tickets and shelter in the Gala Theatre. The next morning I dropped her at the station for a train back to London and work, whilst I proceeded to meet up with a friend to travel to Harrogate for another book event in the comfort of its Convention Centre, although, to be fair, without the chilly wind the town felt almost spring-like. All events had a similar format with a host posing questions from the comfort of an armchair and the author perched on the sofa's edge, ...

This week is a startling anniversary; fifty years since I arrived at university as a naïve young fresher. My closest friend from that era and I decided to mark the occasion.  We opened a bottle of wine. It was, of course, considerably better quality than the half pints of cider we were accustomed to buying in the Hall Bar five decades ago. Goodness me where has all that time gone? Back in 1976, we had been required to present ourselves on 4th October. As she had arrived suffering from the after effects of a virus, she had skipped dinner and gone straight to bed. On this occasion, with her staying over at mine, I offered to replicate that first university dinner: stew followed by gooseberry crumble, according to my trustworthy diary from the time, and I had specifically noted that neither dish was at all pleasant! In the end I couldn't bring myself to indulge our nostalgic musings to that extent and I hopefully served up something a little more satisfying to our tastebuds. Sadly, al...