A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

  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...

   I've never been the kind of person to get excited by cosmetic trends encompassing anti-ageing products until the sudden appearance of lines on my face has recently had me wondering if I should perhaps be a little more aware. Don't get me wrong, Botox and chemical fillers, let alone nips and tucks, hold no appeal whatsoever but perhaps the idea of ageing gracefully does, certainly since those wrinkles suddenly started to appear. I was sure there had to be a reason for the abrupt materialisation of creases across my brow but the only one I could think of was that operation back in February 2022 when my ready supply of oestrogen was whipped away. At least that was my train of thought until recently when my attention was drawn to the results of a study which suggests that rather than ageing gradually the human body suffers two dramatic bursts of depletion at around 44 and again at 60. Okay, so those ages are history on my part but it does explain what feels like a sudden surg...

  Today, I drove my mother to the large hospital 25 miles from where she lives. I drove, because using public transport would have required two trains and then a bus. It would also have taken two and a half hours to ensure that we did not miss the second train when any quicker schedule was based on the first train running on time and then changing platforms and onto the next train all within a minute. With her advancing years, my mother finds it difficult if not impossible to climb up and onto public transport and as her health difficulties have justified a disabled parking badge, it made sense to drive and use the bluebadge for priority parking. Knowing that parking can be tricky on the hospital site and my mother can't rush, we arrived with a generous forty minutes to spare but, reaching the disabled parking bays, noted that they were fully occupied. Of course, that ought not to have been a problem, so instead I dropped my mother at the door and gave her instructions to wait for ...

  School pupils returned to their desks last week after the long summer break. I did likewise, having impetuously signed up for a course on Health and Nutrition a few weeks ago. My second assignment was due yesterday and what with our trip to the Lake District and other commitments, it was looking touch and go as to whether I would actually complete it by the deadline set. Needless to say, I took advantage of the appalling weather outside to hunker down at the computer and get on with it.  Save for refreshment breaks, I was there for 12 long hours although I confess that most of the time I was captivated by both the topics covered and the challenge of the task.  I haven't undertaken any formal learning in retirement so it's all been something of a novelty. That said, yesterday I inevitably found myself comparing my situation to the world of work which must have been the last place I spent that amount of time at a desk. It was perhaps a shame that the very nature of the co...

  We returned yesterday from one of our regular trips to the Langdale Valley in the Lake District. Oh my, how it rained during our week long stay; torrentially, for days or so it seemed. It started an hour or so after we arrived late on Saturday afternoon and then continued almost unabated until Thursday when we had intermittent showers. Sunshine finally arrived on Friday when we were at last able to leave waterproofs on the peg and don T-shirts instead. Years ago, when I was working and holidays were a precious resource, a week's drenching of that magnitude would have been viewed as a vacation disaster. Even in retirement and until recently, I might have viewed it with severe disappointment. These days, less so. Living temporarily as we are on an urban housing estate, plunging ourselves into the joys of woodland living, overlooking a roaring beck with a backdrop of fells (we couldn't see anything higher for the low cloud), was an absolute delight regardless of the tempest arou...

  Well I never! Several years ago I changed the background and layout of this blog and in so doing and for no obvious reason lost the ability to reply to specific comments. Ever since, I've been obliged instead simply to make my own comment in response. Today and as a consequence of circumstances of which I profess no knowledge, my right to comment has suddenly returned. I know that as we get older, we are supposed to become more set in our ways and dislike change, but this is one alteration I certainly approve of and long may it last. Whilst referring to change, a main topic of discussion at the gym this morning was inevitably the weather. There was a general concurrence that this week we appear to be edging noticeably towards autumn. Now that's a change I honestly don't like too much, especially when we waited so long for summer sunshine to make an appearance this year. Of course August is rushing by, the nights are definitely getting darker sooner and before we know it, ...

  My vegetable patch has been notably absent from this blog and indeed my life this summer. Before we vacated our home, I planted potatoes and onions and then left it. Forays back to the garden have been made only to harvest new potatoes and shallots as well as from the fruit trees. Sadly whilst the trees are doing us proud, mainly because of the lack of wasps this year, the harvest from the ground has so far proved disappointing. It demonstrates, I suppose, that my regular presence is indeed required to administer tender loving care in the form of a watering can and fertiliser, as needed. That said, and however much I enjoy gardening, it has been a boon not to feel tied down in the servitude of peas and cabbages. So much so, that I have now even been devising plans for next years vegetable beds which might see two or three of them taken out of action. I have a feeling that displays of colourful blooms amongst the edible crops might be easier on the back, require less man hours to ...