A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

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...

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...

  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 ...

  There’s a meme circulating on the internet at the moment to the effect that for the first time ever a British woman finally went out, leaving her cardigan at home. Today, amidst all this glorious sunshine and stifling heat, I did likewise! There are some things that never change though: I still had an umbrella in my bag! Image by  emmabeyjd  from  Pixabay

  The spin dryer on our trusty washing machine has broken. Instead of turning at 1200 rpm, it moans, groans, and twirls at maybe 60 rpm. How long do we expect to hang onto our white goods for? This one has served us well for just over 15 years and to be honest after a year stagnating in the garage whilst its home in the utility room was dug out, we never expected it to work again. It surprised us, however, and seemed keen to spring back into life, even if I did have to run a few seriously hot washes and a descaling cleaner to get rid of the musty smell that had built up inside. Now, some six weeks later it has slowly ground to a halt. The washing has literally been hung out to dry as a consequence. A big decision  had to be made; did we seek to have it repaired or was it time to buy a new one? You might recall we had this exact same dilemma in 2019. Back then and in an effort to boost our green credentials, we relied on the repair man and it proved to be a wise decision....

  After my last blogpost, you'd be forgiven for thinking I'd dashed off for a sabbatical on a desert island thus explaining my apparent absence from this platform. Sadly, and much as I might wish otherwise, I've instead been maintaining the huge effort required to re-establish our home. I'm not sure if it's age that's catching up with me but I'm certainly not finding it as easy as I might have imagined. There again being forced to knuckle down in retirement and tackle work that I would not have chosen, if it weren't for the circumstances, is a strange phenomenon after the carefully orchestrated freedom of the past decade. That said, I did manage to squeeze 6 nights in London when I helped out with Grandotty's childcare. I'm unsure what the expectations of me were but, for some bizarre reason, the Eldest and Dilly seemed to think I was the ideal person to  sort potty training. Perhaps they assumed that my memory would extend back 30 plus years to ...

  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....

  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...

   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...

  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...

  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 ...

   I spent last weekend in a one man tent at the World Yoga Festival on the showground at Henley on Thames. I confess I've never been to a festival before but on the basis that meat, never mind alcohol, was strictly forbidden I knew it would avoid the excesses that the Youngest has described to me from her own experiences at Glastonbury and beyond.  All chanting and drumming stopped by 11pm; the weather was wonderful; the ladies I went with were great company; I was exhausted from all the Yoga classes and other activities; my appetite was sated from the vegan food stalls. Regardless, I slept terribly! Maybe it was that hard bump on the ground beneath my sleeping bag but I'm convinced camping gets harder as you age.  Why put myself through the hardship? It's another dimension to my exploration of Planet Retirement and that quest for the holy grail which if it's not the meaning of life must at least be the route to its fulfilment.  When I first entered retirement,...

  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 jo...