A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

   I had a birthday at the weekend. Falling, as it does, in the early part of March, it was always touch and go as I grew up as to whether it would snow on the big day or not. That hasn't been an issue in recent years but this year delivered up a first. When Mister E and I took a break from decorating at our home, as we get the unaffected areas prepared for our return, we sat on our patio area and ate lunch (sandwiches from a Tupperware container) outside! Since then, normal service has resumed and when I set off for the gym this morning it was, of course, sleeting.  Needless to say I am now keeping a careful eye on the forecast which currently says it is going to rain non-stop on our moving date. Fingers crossed that it is as inaccurate as ever. In the past, I have often mused over the fact that I am now able to plan my days around the weather. There are some commitments, however, that even in retirement I realise I'm desperate to keep, rain or shine.   ...

  In my last post I commented on what seems to be the frantic nature of life as you run from one commitment to another. Who'd have thought how easily you can fall into the trap of doing this, even when you are retired and theoretically have time at your disposal. I've been ruminating on my folly and although that wonderful feeling of tranquility is clearly linked to a slower tempo, it isn't true that in order to appreciate the joy of life you always have to operate at a snail's pace. Indeed the early years of retirement are very definitely an opportunity for adventure and exploration; deriving thrill from the novel and unfamiliar.   Two weeks ago, when I was in London for Grandotty's birthday, I took advantage of the Eldest and Dilly working, Grandotty spending the day in nursery and Mister E struggling with an aching foot, to set out alone. On this occasion I headed for Whitehall and the Churchill War Rooms. It's not a venue that I have ever visited before and ...

  This morning proved to be the perfect antidote to all that juggling . I made it to the gym for 9.00 am and circuit training. Then, with almost a 2 hour gap until a Yoga class, I gravitated to the spa area for the first time this calendar year. A typical March nip in the air did not prevent me from venturing into the outdoor jacuzzi where, surrounded by rising bubbles and with a view over the open countryside, all felt well and tranquil. The steam room, infra red sauna, and rain-forest shower prolonged the effect. Lounging in the tepidarium after a soak in the hydrotherapy pool (more bubbles), life felt peaceful once again. I lingered over dressing and drying my hair; those daily tasks that are usually rushed. Then finally a flowing Yoga session after which I emerged back into the world, serene and calm. It never lasts long though does it? A ten mile drive to my local town and a frantic search for a parking space before arriving for a hair appointment with only a minute to spare....

  Oh my goodness. I'd never considered retirement could be pressurising until recently when , just like those jolly times in a working life, I've found myself juggling.  There's still no working boiler at home but our return date remains fixed and is ever more imminent. Consequently anxiety levels are rising and there's now decluttering at both ends of our personal property chain too. I'd like to think that letting go after you've gone without for almost 12 months would be easy, but sadly I'm still finding it challenging! Then there's decorating to finish, whilst dodging workmen and dust to complete it. Not much multi-tasking there you might think, however I failed to factor in my mother undergoing her own little crisis and the time it takes to provide support and solutions. Regrettably, her end of the retirement spectrum is less alluring than mine, although no doubt I'll find plenty of material to blog about if I ever reach my nineties. What I think...

 I have frequently been disappointed, especially in retirement, returning to once visited or even frequented places. Perhaps I retain an idealised notion in my head as to how things used to be or maybe, just maybe, they have deteriorated. Often, of course, the disenchantment has stemmed from their growth in popularity, with crowds and traffic detracting from the experience. There was no such let down yesterday when a friend and I went to see Skipton Castle. In my case, it was the first time I had stepped through the ancient gatehouse since my childhood. Consequently my memories were vague, although I do have an abiding recollection of my first ever encounter with a garderobe (medieval toilet), peering through a hole to the cliffside and water below! Guess what, it was still there and the drop from seat to beyond equally as impressive. More than 900 years old, Skipton Castle claims to be one of the best preserved castles in England. As an adult with the experience of many more cast...

Events of the past 20 months chez nous are rapidly drawing to a close albeit at an increasing pace. It reached a point in mid-January where we just couldn't take any more, so we uprooted to the Lake District along with all the family.  The day before we left, however, holiday vibes were destroyed by an email indicating that notice to terminate the rental of our temporary accommodation on 25th March was being served and that if we believed our own home was not yet ready for occupation we should contact the loss adjuster, who presumably had authorised the service of the notice in the first place. It was perhaps unfortunate that I only got round to checking my emails in the evening because the chances of rousing the loss adjuster on a Friday night were non-existent.  So off we toddled across the Pennines,  panicking in the knowledge that our home still had cut pipes all over the place, no floor, no heating source etc.. Then malaise set in: the weather was awful; cold, damp a...

  I spent yesterday afternoon in my volunteer role as trustee of an almshouse. After reading an article on The Guardian website earlier in the week referring to research over the decades on the benefits of volunteering, I  could have felt very smug indeed or at least basked in the higher echelons of a score on a happiness and well-being chart.  It seems that helping others boosts our health in a variety of ways, but with one proviso, namely that you have to do it for solely altruistic reasons. If you do, however, body and brain are allegedly repaid in a multitude of ways including the easing of inflammation, the boosting of mental health, the building of resilience, feeling fitter and even living longer. One study also suggested that volunteering with three different organisations gives you an increased benefit. Darn, I may have been volunteering in three directions when I first retired but life has a habit of getting in the way and of course I've deliberately shed roles ...

  You will recall that back in November I was moaning as to our lack of confidence in the contractors appointed by the insurance company to remediate our home. A meeting took place and their strategy for reinstatement was amended to our satisfaction although we have been well aware of the need to monitor carefully. Thank goodness we have been on the ball. Concrete slab stage was reached shortly before Christmas and last week a team was deployed to construct the underfloor trunking for the water pipes. Although our ability to inspect the latest work was delayed because of the weather, Mister E and I called in to check yesterday.  Honestly, you would struggle to make this stuff up, but somewhere along the way they had decided to insert vast amounts of unnnecessary trunking where no water pipes are to be nor indeed have ever been. Then, they had totally overlooked the need to install pipes to connect to one of the radiators. I gladly left Mister E to deal with the Project Manage...

  It's taken twelve days to log in, but finally I'm creating my first blogpost of 2025. We enjoyed a very traditional family Christmas with close family staying for 10 days and during that period of time  we caught up with extended family too. There was the inevitable surfeit of food and I confess that exercise and healthy eating very definitely took a back seat until they were resumed last week. As ever Grandotty is the gift that keeps on giving  and having got over the nasty cold she kindly passed onto me at the beginning of December, she arrived with another one. No prizes for guessing who succumbed immediately they left. The pitfalls of grandparenting has to be that lack of immunity to nursery matured viruses. I have been considering a need to decelerate a little in 2025. Simplicity and the Zen zone it is argued require us to slow down to enjoy and appreciate more. I hadn't envisaged that curbing the pace of life would be enforced rather than engineered, but hey if co...

    I know there is a theory that as retired humans age they become more grumpy but, seriously, 'tis the season to be jolly and what better way for getting you into the party spirit than a run of seasonal bonuses?  Mine started at our annual Yoga Party when yours truly didn't just go and win the Charity raffle: a rather wonderful hamper of Christmas goodies! That was followed swiftly by my state pension bonus, a whole tax free £10! Of course there have been repeated discussions between Mister E and me as to how best to apply our combined sum of £20. To date, and on the basis that it is still better to give than receive, we've acquired a copy of the Big Issue between us, and are down to £15 looking for a good cause tomorrow. The Youngest and her boyfriend arrived on Friday and we are presently awaiting the imminent appearance of the Eldest and family. The cot has been put up in a separate bedroom which is something of a step forward from their last visit. I did ask Dilly i...

   My primeval nesting urge invariably sets in as the days grow noticeably longer and Spring is in the air. Unusually, and just as the shortest day of the year approaches, I've been hit by a compulsion to declutter. So, totally out of kilter with my normal instinctive behaviour,  I have been dropping goods off at the Charity Shop at the end of the year rather than the beginning. I've also found an outlet that buys old digital cameras (the Charity Shop having refused to accept them in case I might inadvertently have failed to wipe the memory and their contents presumably be distasteful!) I've disposed too of a significant percentage of my paperback book collection; the part with yellowing loose pages and tiny print in an obscure font with no double line spacing. Horror of horrors, in an epoch where Charity Shops want nearly new goods and these were fit for nothing other than recycling assuming that the paper could be separated from the glue which appeared to be rapidly det...

    After my last blog entry and the continuation of anxiety and consequent loss of sleep, I'd like to think that I employed that good old tactic known as distraction. Others might perceive it as being the evolutionary flight response. We spent two days in York, staying in a hotel overnight to make sure we well and truly escaped the issues haunting us. As well as taking in its ever growing Christmas Market and a fantastic evening meal out, it was a great opportunity to visit the Art Gallery and museums when most people were choosing to indulge in that popular December pastime of Christmas shopping, enabling us to enjoy crowd-free exhibits. The latest exhibition at the art gallery is entitled "The Art of Wallpaper: Morris & Co." Humour me, I wasn't sure what to expect, but we actually found the history of wallpaper and the framed samples fascinating. Amongst our various visits, we also called in at The Yorkshire Museum. I have to say it has changed significantly si...

  We can all go through life attacking imaginary enemies if we so choose. Don Quixote tilted at windmills, but I dare say today he'd have equally mistaken a row of pylons for evil giants.  In retirement my choice has been to avoid conflict, as I try to negotiate my way to a place of calm and stress-free Karma. Unfortunately in recent weeks, it has not been so easy.  There is one chance for the floors  of our home to be reinstated properly. We have no confidence that the insurance company's contractors can deliver. Would you employ a crew used to digging holes and trenches to put everything back together again with the finesse of a master housebuilder? We are understandably running scared. Work has ground to a halt and having sought expert advice have been left even more concerned. It's just like being back at work, waking in the middle of the night to confront the worries of the next day. Even then, I doubt I ever dreamt about filling in floors nor planned conversati...

  It was my third morning back at the gym today. Apart from forgetting my trainer shoes (again!), I confess to being modestly proud to have survived unscathed. So far there are no screaming muscles, my joints aren't stiff and I'm ready to do it all again tomorrow (trainer shoes packed in readiness). Conscious of  fast approaching the era for physical decline, yesterday I found my attention online diverted to a somewhat old study on the benefit of being able to sit down onto the floor and then stand up again without using your hands. I surprised myself by being able to do this relatively comfortably. That's just as well, because the study from more than a decade ago suggests that failure gave a seven times greater likelihood of dying within six years. On the one hand that could suggest that this blog might be around for a while yet. On the other, and on the basis that I'm pretty sure I probably couldn't do that in the early days of retirement not to mention during th...

  Could the nightmare finally be over? Not the one about the house as sadly that's destined to continue for a while yet, but perhaps the other one involving my car.  It didn't feel like that at the weekend. After picking the car up on Thursday evening, complete with all kinds of new parts, it drove just like a dream. Well, for all of 3 miles anyway. Then the nightmare began again as the inside became flooded by petrol vapour. There were profuse apologies yesterday when the garage checked it over and conceded that the mechanic had inadvertently nicked the seal on a hose causing a vapour leak. They sorted it as a matter of priority and thankfully I am fully mobile once again. I was straight back to the gym and a weights class this morning. Talk about being out of practice. The weights were fine, but I forgot my trainer shoes and water bottle! All part of retirement's rich tapestry of incompetence and brain fog, or perhaps, after reducing life to walking pace, speeding it up a...

  Back on 20th October, I posted an entry here referring to my broken house, my broken car and mused over whether I could be broken too.  By way of update, garage number one was unable to fix my car and in desperation I took it to the specialists at garage number two. They assure me they know what's wrong and a day's minor surgery should have Miss Scarlet back on the road again. Of course bad news followed the good in the form of the quotation. I'm not yet broken, but I shall be broke!  

  It must be a month ago now that houses around us suddenly began to be decked out with arrays of  pumpkins, cobwebs and spiders. The most amazing thing was that this decoration took place almost entirely during the hours of darkness, so we would awake on a morning to the sight of yet another house embellished by attempted creepiness. It's all been something of a change to the relatively staid, mundane and unornamented surroundings of October in our home village, all no doubt a reflection on the contrasting demographics of the suburban outskirts where we are temporarily residing and of rural hamlets. Last week we played host to Grandotty and parents, meaning that our age statistics were more in keeping with the rest of the street. Needless to say Grandotty revelled in constant walks to see the spiders.  "Spider! Quick, quick! Run, run!" became a constant refrain. I swear I've never enjoyed (or perhaps even noticed) the run up to Halloween before. That's the great ...

  Yes, the house is broken but it is supposed to be being put back together. Except, when we last visited, somebody had decided that it would be a good idea to relay patio pavers at a noticeably higher level than those that had not been uprooted. It's not that I'm opposed to terracing but not across the patio please. So now there's another job to redo and so possibly delay our return still further. You really can't make this stuff up. It's tempting fate to ask to be given a break, but that's exactly what I did get last week, except this time it's the car that's now broken too. My fault for hanging onto it too long, I suppose. I had thought I'd try to embrace the whole retirement ethos of driving around in an old vehicle, being unable to decide what exactly to upgrade it for, especially now we appear to be entering the sunset stage of fossil fuel driven vehicles. It was a silly move based on the idea that, whilst I'd always needed a reliable car ...

   It sounded a little too good to be true when we received an email at the beginning of the week from the remediation company contracted by the insurers, suggesting that we could feasibly be back in our home by Christmas. The day dreaming began and the pace of work in the rooms upstairs that we are decorating quickened. Little by little, however, we realised the serious pitfalls of such a situation, not least because notice to terminate the lease on our temporary accommodation would need to be given this month with no certainty that we would actually be able to return as indicated. Corners would need to be cut and/or we would be returning to somewhere only half finished with no prospect of entertaining family over the Christmas holidays.  Then nightmare of nightmares, because the tenancy end date would actually be 25th December, I had visions of cleaning and clearing two houses at the point when most people might be sitting back, slippers on, waiting for Santa Claus to p...

  In my blogpost on September 8th , I described the challenge of undertaking an online course in Health and Nutrition. I am pleased to report that the final assignment was completed and submitted on Friday. Whilst I did my best to spread the workload over the time allowed, there was so much to complete that I still felt under pressure and far removed from the carefree retirement state I now consider normality. On the plus side, it felt like a new experience and I do feel far more knowledgeable than previously; I also appreciate the practical implications of what I have learnt and am already conscious of making changes as a result. However, I would like to think that even wild horses will not drag me back to the classroom. I do so much prefer the stimulation of active practical learning and creativity. So it was that during September I also undertook the restoration of an old Ercol rocking chair that my grandmother had given me when I was only a toddler. It was a dark, stained finis...