A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

  I have actually made some progress with planning out my direction for 2026. I'm doing it with the mind-mapping technique and at present have produced a draft of something that resembles a spider's web with text scrawled across it. There's quite  a bit of refinement to be undertaken and detail to be added but, if nothing else, it helps me to put options into perspective and hopefully assist in directing focus as I've realised very quickly that I can't possibly follow every strand of the strange diagram I have created, there just simply aren't going to be sufficient hours in 2026 to permit it! Meanwhile, life continues apace regardless. Last week I spent a very pleasant afternoon in York by myself, visiting the Art Gallery where the pieces shortlisted for the Aesthetica Art Prize of 2025 were still on display complemented by Future Tense: Art in the Age of Transformation. The latter was a huge light installation by Squid Soup and Liz West that you could wander i...

I saw the Doctor last week about the biceps pain I've been struggling with since before Christmas. It transpires it's a partial tear rather than the sprain I had suspected and although I can tell it is healing, albeit slowly, my left arm continues to feel incredibly weak. All that effort I put in to stay fit and one muscle chooses to repay me with an injury and eight weeks of rest from lifting anything with it  As ever, I've found the silver lining in the form of my tax return which, freed from some of my regular gym classes, I've been able to complete and submit with breathing space before the 31st January deadline. The weather has been exceptionally cold too, so I've snuggled down with a book for a couple of hours every day and ticked four off my reading list for the year. With those, a birthday lunch, non-weight-bearing classes, tidying up after the festive period's visitors and sorting various issues for my elderly mum, I've not been exactly idle. Despit...

Well here we are in the Year 2026 and my very best wishes for health and happiness to all. From New Year to New Year's Resolutions to New Me; I think that's how the theory goes. If so, I'm ashamed to say that discernible change at this end is non-existent. All those thoughts of renewal and revival went out of the window when I awoke yesterday feeling totally exhausted, nursing the beginnings of a cold and a biceps sprain that has haunted me the whole of the festive season. Start the year as you mean to go on? On this form, no thank you.  Of course, it's only a hiccup. It's arrived, however, just after a lovely Christmas when so many of the extended family visited and close family stayed; I got the shopping in and decorations up in time; cooked for what can only be described as crowds on three occasions and enjoyed the company of those gorgeous grandchildren for eight full days. We've eaten all the left-overs and there are some days when I swear I haven't lef...

I confess, I am a little behind with my Christmas preparations. Perhaps I was overly relaxed when I thought two weeks was too early to start getting everything ready or maybe a tad optimistic as to how long the necessary steps would actually take.  Let's say the wheels came off over the weekend when I realised the enormity of clearing a spare bedroom ready for Grandotty to sleep in. Sadly, it was full of those boxes we've just never found the time or perhaps more correctly enthusiasm to empty since returning home at the end of March. Thankfully, and bar only two that I have found space elsewhere to store, everything is now sorted, the bed is made and the floor is clear. So a little late in erecting the Christmas tree, it became a task scheduled for this afternoon, after I had picked up the Youngest from the station and together we had undertaken a major food shop. Sadly, it didn't happen. A delay on the railway meant that the Youngest arrived an hour late. Even then we plan...

  Following on from my post about Nature and Art , yesterday I found the ideal venue. It was at Nunnington Hall, a National Trust Property situated on the edge of the Howardian Hills. Inside there was a photography exhibition by Joe Cornish and Simon Baxter with the title "All the Wood's a Stage." Yes it was a play on that much famed quotation from Shakespeare, but the point they were making was that trees are the performers in nature and that we should reconnect with woodland using our powers of observation and other senses. I wasn't sure what to expect but went with an open mind. The photographs were stunning, unlike my own example above. They showed trees through the changing seasons; symbols of life, beauty, death and renewal; providers of quietude; guardians of the environment. They appeared as immense, silent wardens of the natural world and a fundamental part of the planet's vital ecosystem. I felt inspired; I wanted to reach for a camera myself or at least...

Many years ago, in that world of work I invariably wore black . Dull, sombre coloured suits with white blouses and heeled shoes were viewed as appropriate attire for both office and court room. I think there was even a myth that black flattered and slimmed. Hence I had a collection of LBD's for evening events and even black swimwear for holidays. In retirement I realised that they served little purpose. Getting rid took much longer, but I think I finally got there in 2021. Today, however, looking through my wardrobe where various hues of blue dominate, the thought went through my mind that whilst there is no black there is no purple either. I was thinking of course of that wonderful poem by Jenny Joseph, " Warning- When I am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple ."   Scanning the poem in my head, I realised that I don't have a red hat (unless the pink one I now wear in the garden in winter, after it was partially eaten by a moth, counts). I haven't taken to spending m...

  Yes the Christmas chatter has begun: "Do you have your tree up?"  "Are you sending Christmas cards this year?" "Have you bought and wrapped your presents?" On my part the answer to all of those has been a definitive No! Those who can smugly answer Yes, appear concerned that December 25th is but a mere seventeen days and so many hours away. For me that really is an age, just imagine all the exciting things I have planned for the interim (like planting bulbs , for instance). Despite ticking off a couple of Christmas lunches already, I do subscribe to the idea that the Christmas season can be extended far too long if you let it and what's wrong with a bit of spontaneity when it really does arrive? Now that attitude is totally contrary to how I thought my approach to the festive season in retirement might be. There again, why change the habits of a lifetime?  This will be our first Christmas at home since 2022, so of course I am looking forward to it and...

We're heading towards the end of another year but why is it that once again I never managed to get all my borders dug over and bulbs planted before the gardening season came to an abrupt end? Forever the optimist, I'm still checking the forecast, hoping for a rise in temperature and one or two calm days in anticipation of finishing the job.  As a consequence of the digging that went on inside and outside the house starting in late 2023, autumn clear-ups have of necessity been neglected for the past two years. The baked clay that resulted from our recent summer of drought and high temperatures resisted all attempts to turn it with a spade, whilst, in the meantime, field mice from the adjoining farmer's land have filled themselves at the expense of my tulip and crocus bulbs.   Confronted by a depleted floral display when we returned home earlier this year and facing another in the Spring of 2026, I had therefore set myself the task of planting a thousand bulbs. The pro...

I have just returned from another enjoyable but exhausting trip to London to see our granddaughters. On this occasion, rather than driving, Mister E and I took the train and the journey proved to be the only part of our four nights away when I got the opportunity to sit down with a book. I had deliberately chosen something light and recommended to me on the basis that it was funny and astute, a little in the style of Jane Austen's humour but set in the late 1960's. I'm not at all sure that it completely lived up to that description but it had a certain wit and whimsicality that captivated me regardless. The book was 'Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont' by Elizabeth Taylor and it depicts the interaction between various long stay, elderly guests at a hotel on Cromwell Road in London. I was intrigued to turn the pages in circumstances where friends have often suggested that in our dotage it would be preferable to check into a good hotel rather than a care home. Mrs Palfrey w...

  Acquiring an electric vehicle has introduced me to various new concepts when it comes to driving.  'Range anxiety,' for instance, seems to be a phrase that crops up regularly. Progressing so suddenly from a hot, dry spring and summer into current conditions has fostered an epidemic of the condition and I've even heard tell of one poor lady who couldn't bear the stress and ended up part-exchanging her electric car after only a few months to return to a conventional petrol engine. Unfortunately, deploying heating, lighting and windscreen wipers throughout every journey has an inevitable impact on battery power and the decrease in miles per kwh as a consequence can be worrying. Somebody even described to me how they are donning extra layers and driving without heating in an effort to tweak as many miles as possible out of their charge. I'm lucky in that most of my driving is local and to be honest I'm not sure that I would have swapped to an electric car if it wa...

Ever since new research at Kings College , London suggested that visiting art galleries is good for our health, I seem to keep stumbling across commentary on the findings from that study. It concluded that viewing original art could lower markers within the body for a wide range of inflammatory conditions including heart disease, diabetes, stress and depression.  As somebody who is predisposed to a number of inflammatory conditions, my interest was piqued. Already aware of the benefits of  immersing oneself in nature and of exercise, how wonderful if visiting exhibitions can be added to the list of preventative healthcare measures for adoption in retirement. Some of my best days out in the last decade have certainly involved admiring the creativity of others which I always find generates an inner emotional response. Potentially it now seems feasible that instead of planning a visit to a gallery as a cultural indulgence, we should look upon it as a prescription for the wel...

  The highlight of my social calendar in the last few days was an Alpine Evening organised outside the gym where four large tepees were installed on the lawn, complete with a gondola carriage for photographs. Mulled wine was available on tap, whilst raclette and bratwurst were served to eat. By chance, the temperature had plummeted to below freezing and we were even treated to a flurry of snow from the sky above.  Like most events, it was of course the company of others present who really made it a success, although recognising some people in their winter coats and hats rather than lycra was a challenge in itself! Many of us suffered a healthy dose of nostalgia reminiscing about skiing trips past but not present. Concerned about weak knee and hip joints or maybe brittle bones, it really was the closest most are ever going to get to après ski going forward in retirement. Of course, I realised as long ago as 2013 that skiing wouldn't dominate our retirement planning and althoug...

During our recent visit to Crete , Mister E and I stayed in a small boutique hotel renowned for its gastronomic offering. Still on UK time, we reserved a table in the restaurant on our first night for somewhat late in the evening. So much so that as we entered the other diners were already in the process of leaving.  It was a relatively small room, perhaps a dozen tables, certainly no more.  Shortly after we sat down and the other guests departed, an obvious security guard entered and began to rearrange tables. He came and went, communicating by walkie talkie and indicating to the waiting staff that: "They say they won't be long." Obviously our interest was drawn and when suddenly we spotted three people running up the staircase, our eyes turned to the entrance. Shouldered on either side by two apparent minders was someone whom I can only describe as the most enlivened ball of nervous energy I have ever encountered.  "That's X," said Mister E. "No, it...

  Back in 2009 (a year when retirement wasn't even on the horizon) I visited the first ever Durham Lumiere Festival. It left quite an impression, not least of the Son et Lumiere depicting the history of Christianity in the North East. Indeed, I don't think I shall ever forget the images of the Lindisfarne Gospels projected onto the facade of the Cathedral against a haunting musical score.  The Festival grew into a biennial success and I always intended to visit again. With its rise in popularity, however, it became a ticketed event and although tickets were free, there was inevitably a degree of organisation in obtaining them. Other things got in the way and suddenly 16 years had passed. I realised that if I was ever going to experience the event again, I really had to get online, click a couple of buttons and secure entry passes. I did so a couple of months ago ensuring I could breathe a sigh of relief when a few weeks later it was announced that, because of local authority f...

  When I wrote about our trip to Portugal , I did say we were searching for inspiration for a recovery trip. On a whim and with a definite need to experience a little more European sunshine before winter sets in, Mister E and I headed off to Crete. Age must definitely be playing its part because this was not our usual must-explore-from-dawn-to-dusk travel adventure. We have seen the archaeological highlights of Crete previously, so we embarked on this vacation with the sole aim of resting, reading and relaxing.  The weather smiled kindly on us and with blue sky, sea and even a matching swim towel, life was almost complete. With the addition of some coastal rambles, authentic tavernas, our own plunge pool and temperatures in the mid-twenties this was a trip that ticked the boxes set for it. Sometimes retirement life is so busy that I forget about the need to simply stop and breathe. Part of me believes that with the absence of  the daily pressures of a working life, I...

My To Do List habit is something that I have carried over from diligence in the workplace. I'd like to be able to describe it as a thing of beauty but in reality it is on the one hand the bane of my life, on the other potentially the only item on which I can rely to maintain order. I keep it in a specifically designed app that is available on all my devices as both a standalone schedule and also a daily precursor to calendar entries. Essentially there is no hiding from it. Some days it is a monster with a controlling claw, on others a tawdry specimen that can easily be ignored. There are chores that repeat, reminders for bill payments and other deadlines, nudges for seasonal tasks in the garden and so the list goes on. There are some days when I wonder  if the time I expend reallocating dates for jobs on the list could perhaps have been more usefully  deployed tackling those items. On other occasions, I sail through the list, ticking off every item for the day and reaching the...

  I have recently returned from a family trip to the eastern Algarve where we rented a villa and spent our days on the beach running in and out of the sea and building sandcastles. A reminder of childhood holidays from yore, except there was no need for a windbreak and we also forsook the opportunity for sandwiches with tiny fragments of grit in them for a small choice of coastal restaurants and cafes. The sun shone everyday; temperatures were warm and best of all tourist numbers were low meaning we frequently had a vast area of seashore to ourselves. The packing to get there was another matter. No feelings of warm nostalgia when it became a mammoth operation to accommodate a mountain of nappies, books, toys, baby clothing and essentials, despite our rental property being fully equipped. Does every generation invariably weigh itself down with more and more stuff? I certainly don't recall travelling with so much when the Eldest and Youngest were little but then my own parents probab...

  The hallmark of retirement has to be opening the door to a raft of new experiences. This can involve travelling, but more and more frequently I have found that the time retirement bestows enables unfamiliar adventures much closer to home. Indeed fresh perspective and novel opportunities can often arise unexpectedly and from out of the routine and mundane. This past week has been no exception. Following on from the acquisition of The Bug , I decided that I was too cowardly to try out the self parking function alone so called into the car dealership where the salesman was more than willing to show me the vehicle's capability. Nothing ventured, nothing gained but apart from deriving a good laugh at The Bug's choice of parking spaces (at one point it parked on the access route between two rows of parked cars, blocking everyone else in) and failure to recognise all the obvious ones, it is not a function I anticipate much need for. Indeed the demonstration convinced me that I have ...

  I had an unexpected visit to the dentist today. Unexpected on two scores: first, because I never thought it possible to ring at 3pm and get an appointment for 4.15 pm (courtesy of a last minute cancellation); second, because apart from check ups I have had no need for dental treatment for over 40 years. Unfortunately that changed when, chewing on a slice of toast (I swear it wasn't even crisp) a molar at the back of my mouth broke. I wasn't in any pain but knowing from the experiences of Mister E that these things, if left, tend to fester and cause problems when you least want them, decided to get it checked over as soon as possible. Now on my last foray for dental treatment, back in my twenties, I recall being absolutely petrified. It was for a filling and a decade had passed since the sadist who posed as my childhood dentist had wielded a drill in my direction and filled my back teeth; no anaesthetic, nothing but the drill constantly hitting a nerve and he insisting it woul...

Back in the early days of retirement I acquired a new car . I freely admitted on this blog that, of habit, I gave all my cars names and on that occasion, over 10 years ago now, the vehicle was named Miss Scarlet. Until the last 12 months we have had a happy relationship and I confess that I had never before hung onto a car so long. On reflection, however, my very first motor car (Sunshine Brum Brum - it was a rather bright and distinctive yellow) was elderly when I acquired it and probably outdid Miss Scarlet in vehicular years when, for reasons of reliability, we were obliged to part company. I have discovered in retirement that dependability is not quite as important as it was when the daily commute to work was a necessity. Cancelling or postponing leisure plans is no big deal and where I feel that I am obligated to commit, then cadging a lift from Mister E  has worked well too. Unfortunately there comes a time when, after a couple of big repairs, the fear of continuously haemorr...