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The 3 x 60 Challenge

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So much is written about the post-work bucket list that as you approach retirement, you inevitably feel that you should have one. A tick list of 100 things to see and do before you die. You don't even have to think up your own any more, the Internet is full of them. Glance through them if you will and you quickly get the impression that retirement must be full of adrenalin rushed grandparents throwing themselves out of aeroplanes or climbing Kilimanjaro. Indeed the eldest recently sent a book to Mister E and me entitled "101 Coolest Things to Do in Great Britain." Now it is a good read and has some, shall we say, "interesting ideas" but for those that hold the most appeal I can honestly say that I've already been there, done them, got the photographs. There are others that wild horses wouldn't drag me to. It may be cool, but somehow Mister E and I attending Bestival is beyond even the most vivid of imaginations. The problem with trying to
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All Aboard for Pampering

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Mister E and I may be retired but we still enjoy being pampered now and again; who says you have to be working hard to deserve a treat? Yesterday offered one of those occasions when we were spoiled with a train trip on board the Northern Belle, previously operated and restored by the Venice Simplon Orient Express. It was a day for lounging back in a plush seat, eating and drinking everything put in front of us (and there was quite a quantity) whilst watching the scenery glide serenely past. The luxury of our surroundings and the attentive service from uniformed staff all added to the sense of occasion and enjoyment. We were entertained by wandering musicians and a magician on our figure of eight route around County Durham and North Yorkshire, ending up eventually back where we started at Darlington Station. Just like my retirement so far really; there is no obvious destination but the journey getting there is immensely pleasurable.
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A Full Service

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  Image by Couleur on Pixabay It's not just the Spring Cleaning that I embrace in February and March because, much as I dislike routine, the end of winter and beginning of spring have become a time to put other aspects of our house in order. So, it's a period for sorting ourselves administratively with meetings with our financial adviser and personal banker; reviewing and renewing insurance policies, changing insurer as necessary; checking tariffs and switching energy suppliers. In fact this year we have surpassed ourselves by finally updating our wills too!  Energised by the thought of springtime and rebirth, it's also become a time for medical checks, new spectacles, and a dental check-up. When making my appointment with the optician, I was given the option of a hearing test; I declined but no doubt, in years to come, that too will find its way into my retirement body scan. It's not simply a phase for a human body overhaul either, as we've subje
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Late, Even in Retirement

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  (Image by Merry Christmas  from Pixabay) Whilst retirement continues to throw up its new experiences, I'm conscious that some of them only arise because I'm a little late for the party. We have the misfortune to suffer from the problems that rural connectivity throws up. In particular, we  frequently struggle with mobile reception at one side of the house, whilst at the other it has proved impossible to obtain a wifi signal meaning that the benefits of a smart televison are non-existent.  However, during last year's initial lockdown, for the first time I appreciated the potential of casting especially from the iPad to the living room. It's been an indispensable way to participate in online exercise classes.  On Sunday, I was idly exploring other options to cast when I discovered that every series of Downton Abbey is available on Amazon Prime. I'm one of those few people who until now has never watched a single episode. I was, of course, working when it aired on t
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Exhaustion

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  Who would have thought it?  Yesterday, according to my Fitbit app, I walked more than 5 miles without leaving the house; most of it was between wardrobes and the bed where robe contents were displaced and sorted. Now in the course of  the motivational training sessions, I was warned that one wardrobe and a time limit of 4 hours were desirable. However, when Mister E expressed interest in getting his hanging rails decluttered too, it seemed opportune to keep going. After all when the man who cannot even bear to throw away a cardboard box, admits his closets need a good tidy up and needs help to do this, who could possibly refuse? To be fair, he took to the process with a great deal more realism and less sentimentality than I did. In the end the hangers on his rails move freely whereas mine are still a trifle squeezed. Looking at the number of empty coat hangers we produced, I'm ashamed to say we must have jettisoned at least a hundred items between us, most of which were old work
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A Reprieve

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  Tonight I am writing this post rather than continuing my game of catch up with Downton Abbey. After a week of  constant viewing, I am even beginning to sound like Lady Mary; should I deign to clamber on top of a horse and ride it side-saddle, you will know that my conversion is complete. Yesterday, I remained on target to reach the finale today when I noticed that the warning to the effect that all episodes would be removed on 31st January appeared to have disappeared. I wondered if an extension had been granted or if instead I was already viewing on borrowed time. I checked again this morning, and, can you believe it, after all those mammoth sessions in front of the television there is indeed now a new expiry date in two weeks' time! I am unable to explain my relief.  Retirement and deadlines simply don't go together. After a career of working to time limits,  I honestly have no idea why I succumbed to the challenge. All I can think is that, still slightly intoxicated from
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One a Day

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  I'm no longer sure if it's a feature of lockdown or of retirement, but, whereas I spent a working life juggling office and family commitments, suddenly one appointment a day seems to fill the diary. Actually having anything in the diary during lockdown is a highlight in itself, of course, but when you were always accustomed to fitting a visit to the dentist in and around office hours it is vaguely disheartening to realise that it might be all you achieve in daylight hours at the moment. To be honest I've been on a bit of a roll following the trip out to Leyburn on Saturday for that first dose of vaccine. We were strangely fatigued on Sunday, a not uncommon side-effect apparently, but Monday morning saw me out on the road bright and early. I'd booked the car in for its annual service and got it there just as the garage was opening its doors for business. I decided to wear an FP2 mask for the occasion but it did make communicating with the receptionist a trifle difficul
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The Danger Zone

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I have generally considered myself  to be healthy and my retirement lifestyle equally so. I exercise daily; eat a good diet; don't add salt to my food; don't drink much; have never smoked; have no obvious stress triggers; have even lost half a stone in weight since finishing work although, like many people, several more pounds won't be missed. Grief, I sound so boring! Anyway, I was a little concerned by my hospital visit at the end of July when the nurse checked my blood pressure. I could see the reading on the screen and, as it seemed high to me, I did ask her if it was okay.  "Absolutely fine," she said but that didn't exactly allay my fears. After all I had been sitting in a waiting room that could easily have passed for Obesity International and what if mine had simply been the lowest she had seen all morning? The result has been nagging on my mind, so on Monday I called into our surgery and had the Practice Nurse take another readin
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Business Networking in Retirement

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Love it or hate it, business owners and key professionals have become accustomed to walking into rooms full of people and making small talk with strangers. It's the real life equivalent of Twitter or LinkedIn. Sometimes to ease the conversation and connections, games are played.  I recall one event where we had to stand up in turn and tell the room what we were looking for in the lowest number of words possible. That was an easy one for a divorce lawyer: "adultery"; it reduced the room to hysterics but I did get work referred as a result! Relieved of the obligation to network in retirement, I have been toying with deleting my LinkedIn profile. It does seem a brutal step to take, severing those historic connections and therefore the potential for reconnecting. Conversely, the deeper I get into retirement living, the deeper the divergence from the business world and the less important maintaining an online profile seems to be. Recently, however, an old c
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Not Only But Also

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  Today was our big coronavirus vaccination day and it really was a fortuitous decision to have winter tyres on my car, although the first 100 metres uphill from our drive is always the worst part of the journey. Indeed crossing Barden Moor before dropping down into Leyburn was even rather pretty, despite gusty winds blowing snow onto the road in front of us. The vaccination process itself was quick, straight forward and well-organised. We were early but told to go in regardless and there was no queue, unless a slight wait at the door to the room where three of our local doctors were administering the inoculations counts. Indeed the longest part of the process seemed to be the questions asked of us followed by a brief explanation of the whys and wherefores, after which we were asked if we still wanted to proceed. Well it would have taken more than a rehearsed speech to put us off, especially after driving 20 miles to get there. Mind it was only afterwards we were handed an explanatory
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Popular Posts in last 30 days

Broken

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  Never before have I been so grateful to hear that one little word, "broken." For months now, witnessing the alarming increase in NHS waiting times and repeated examples of maladministration, I have had concerned discussions with friends where we have bemoaned the fact that just when we might be on the cusp of needing it the most, the NHS clearly cannot cope. Of course, those conversations have taken place against a backdrop of Tory propaganda telling us how many more hospitals have been built, staff recruited and additional spending deployed. In truth that £350 million a week promised on the Vote Leave battle bus has never been needed so much. Such a shame it was never ever going to be deliverable. Thank you, therefore, to the new Health Minister, Wes Streeting, for saying yesterday what we have all known for sometime: The NHS is broken. How refreshing to hear something that accords with public perception instead of the constant lies and slogans of the previous incumbents. 
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Lisbon to Porto

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  I have already referred in passing to our trip to Portugal from which we returned on 4th July. It was a fascinating journey arriving in Lisbon and returning from Porto in the company of a small group of similar aged travellers. I suppose the big question is, can I recommend it for retirement vacations? Like so many of the world's popular destinations, Lisbon and Porto in particular were very crowded with lengthy queues to enter the best known attractions; the number 28 tram had standing room only and allegedly carries pickpockets as well as tourists in a city renowned as one of the safest in the world. The railway station in Porto with its beautiful tiled frescoes is awash with sightseers making the simple act of boarding a train something of a squeeze before even reaching the platform.   Away from the better known towns, life is much more peaceful and the Douro Valley astoundingly beautiful. Wine, port and traditional pastries made to old recipes were abundant. Our accommodation
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Cash Nexus

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  We returned from a journey through Portugal in time to vote on Thursday. It was our first foreign trip in over a year (because of that dreadful house issue) and I have to say it took a while to acclimatise ourselves once again to the challenges of travelling. When I say acclimatise there were no problems on the weather front, discounting rain on 5 days but we had at least gone prepared with waterproofs. Now I know a year had elapsed, but I'm confident that on our previous ventures, save for a small purse of euros, we have managed our funds by way of one of those credit cards that promises a live exchange rate and no transaction fees. Starting in Lisbon, it wasn't long before we came across bars and cafes where cash was king. Of course, that should not have been a problem as, armed with a Santander debit card, we are promised cash withdrawals from the Bank's ATMs again free of charges and with the live exchange rate. Even better, Google Maps confirmed any number of Santand
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We Made It

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    After a brief sojourn in the UK to provide sufficient time to process the laundry from our last trip, vote in the General Election and catch yet another awful cold, we headed south again. This time our destination was Ponta Delgada in the Azores. You may recall our aborted mission to reach there in 2022. This time we decided to eliminate the risk of an ocean crossing by flying directly to Sao Miguel, 41 years since Mister E sailed there from Dartmouth in a small 34 foot yacht. It was something of a history test for him as he sought to get his bearings but, in so doing, becoming resigned to the fact that the spot where he had tied his boat to a buoy is now buried under a concrete extension to the port infrastructure. He also bewailed the tourist industry that has developed since he plus his crew of one had arrived as something of lone adventurers back in the day. At least he was thankful for the absence of the packs of wild dogs, as he described them, and our hotel accommodation wa
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B is For…

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  Now summer has decided to make an appearance, we’ve been taking advantage of the warm weather. It started with a trip to the beach with the Eldest who was visiting and who kindly appointed me as camera man for his surfing antics. Then we all travelled south to spend more time with Grandotty. At 16 months her vocabulary is obviously limited, but it is amazing how much of life can be condensed down to “more” and “gone.” She also provided an incisive perspective on living in the moment. When you are coerced by a tiny tot into noticing and acknowledging every bird and bug, with a pointed finger and either a “bir” or a “bu”, you begin to be so much more aware of the world around you. I’ve stared with avid interest at a snail crawling along the patio edge, watched a bee on a garden lily, spotted a spider in the corner and lost count of the number of pigeons I’ve waved my index finger at with glee. They all move on to an accompaniment of “gone” and a plea for “more.” As an adult, the joy of
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I Am Grandma

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  I am about to go through a second retirement. When the eldest and Dilly told us last autumn that, all being well, we were scheduled to become grandparents at the end of this month, I decided to relinquish my role as Parish Clerk. I have been in post since October 2015 and whilst a small salary is paid, it is very much a voluntary position in so far as hours worked and tasks undertaken double those contracted to be delivered. I have, however, enjoyed contributing to the community in this way and been able to put the skills learnt from my decades of legal practice to good use.  However, having been a working Mum for most of my career, I have absolutely no intention of being a working Grandma and so my notice of resignation was duly delivered. Sadly, there have been no enquiries from anyone interested in taking over the role and, honour bound, I have continued in position on the strict understanding that, replaced or not, I would not work beyond my grandchild's due date of 28th Febr
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Tax Avoidance

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Tax avoidance seems to be in vogue at the moment, certainly in certain quarters of elite society. Not to be outdone and since my last blog entry, I have: Participated in 5 Pilates, 6 Yoga, 2 Strength, 2 Abs, 3 HIIT and 2 Zumba classes; Been swimming twice; Met friends for lunch on 3 occasions; Prepared for and clerked a Parish Council meeting, typing up the minutes afterwards; Met a friend for a walk along the escarpment at the edge of the North Yorkshire Moors; Spent a week staying and walking in the Langdale Valley in the Lake District; Met up with my Sketchbook Group; Knitted a baby blanket and a couple of new born size hats; Kept up my regular visits to Mum; Read 2 books and started to follow various TV series (the latter is a complete novelty for me); Attended a meeting and to administration as a charity trustee; Acquired a steam carpet cleaner and set it to use throughout the house somewhat vigorously; Talked to all and sundry on the phone and face to face; Started a big clear ou
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Languishing

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  The fourth day of this head cold and I feel that I am languishing in a state of total inertia. In retirement jumping out of bed on a morning has commonly been driven by my passion for morning exercise classes. Presently and until Wednesday, I have cancelled them all. My calendar is blank and time is devoted solely to staying warm and cosseting myself. To be fair, I have detected sufficent improvement in the malaise enveloping me that I am at least now looking at potential plans for activities going forward. From time to time, I do look at the original strategy for retirement that I committed to writing back in 2014. Ashamed yesterday by how much of Britain I have not seen, do I now add to my mortification by potentially calculating how far away I am from fulfilling my own agenda? After all if I'm already feeling melancholy from a heavy cold, would a diagnosis of failure make me suffer any further? Perhaps adopting a dead cat strategy and analysing progress at this juncture might
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Feel the Joy

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 There are occasions in exploring retirement that I feel I am sampling things so that others don't have to. An example arose this week when I decided to read "The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying," by Marie Kondo. The KonMari Method and decluttering are now synonymous. Whilst we've probably all heard about her strategy of holding an object to see if it sparks joy, I decided it was time to see if there was anything more that I could learn. Into my 9th year of retirement and, regardless of the progress made, I still wonder if I shall ever reduce possessions to the point where I can give myself a well-deserved "Job Done" and accompanying pat on the back. Turning the pages, I quickly learnt that the preferred strategy is to get stuck in and aim to complete the task as quickly as possible and in any event in no more than 6 months. Whatever have I been doing for the past 8 and a half years, I wondered? Obviously not putting our house in order once and forever, as sh
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The Long Commute

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I have been doing a lot of commuting lately. Not that daily drudge but a weekly motorway trip to and from the Midlands as I immerse myself in DIY getting our rental property in Nottingham ready for re-letting. It's been an opportunity to call in on a friend en route, stay in one of our favourite hotels (offering cut price bargain rates in what was clearly a down season before the Christmas revels began in earnest) and brush up on my decorating skills. The intention to blog has always been there but, as on the month long trip to America that preceded this bout of industrial activity, there never seems to have been the time. Just like those old days of daily working and commuting perhaps. Indeed sitting in the car one Tuesday evening as I sought to escape the city lights along with thousands of other road users, I was captivated by how many people repeat that inescapable journey not once a day but twice. Streams of cars held up by traffic light after traffic light and all
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