A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

  There are times when we all deserve a little whine. Today I am taking advantage and want to moan about the rain. I know that the British predeliction for speaking about our weather is well known, but of late it is also very much well-founded. The buds bursting into green in the hedgerows and trees; our resident hare running around the adjacent field; the Spring bulbs already fading; the lighter evenings. It should all be adding up to a rapid movement towards summertime. Unfortunately cool temperatures and constant rain are spoiling everything. Indeed the farm next door seems to be growing nothing more than a crop of mud and the number of hours (not even days) that I have been able to get out into the garden can be very much counted on one hand. Today, with a dry forecast, expectations were high despite the deluge overnight. Of course, in true British fashion we ended up with a mild day ruined by strong winds. Suddenly I'm feeling envious of those who make the decision to retire t

  Oh my. I really am disaster prone at present. I am now a regular traveller to London in order to spend time with Grandotty who celebrated her first birthday at the end of February.  I have never been a fan of city living but sacrifices have to be made when the immediate family are all in the capital. Transferring at King's Cross onto the underground and then again onto an overland train are now normality for me and all changes are generally conducted without mishap, or so I thought. Last week changed everything when the small leather hold-all I was carrying was stolen from my shoulder as I boarded the overland train. Perhaps I looked like a vulnerable country cousin come to town and was specifically targeted. Hats off to the thief (or more likely gang who crowded around me as I prepared to enter the train), I certainly didn't notice until the moment it disappeared and by which time I was being carried forward by the throng of people also accessing through the doors with me. I

  Like every new year, January started off with so much promise. After it did its best to impede my ability to breathe let alone exercise by knocking me down with a never-ending head cold and then spent most days tossing rainwater from the sky, I can't say I'm sorry to see its departure. Of course there were the good bits, like my nephew's wedding and our week away in the Lake District, but generally speaking  I confess I'm just glad it's gone. Restored and revitalised, I want to get out and attack life again. However, I've read so much of late written by people decrying the month of January that I can't help wondering if I'm simply living in an echo chamber. After all its hardly fair to blame a period of 31 days banded together under no more than the name of a month for either my woes or the weather. I may have felt that my role as an explorer of retirement was temporarily suspended but I still made headway with some serious decluttering, totally emptyi

  2024 started in the same way that 2023 ended: with a family gathering. On New Year's Eve we met up for a meal with the more northerly branch of Mister E's side of the family. Then, on New Year's Day, we gathered again with the Eldest and Youngest at a holiday home for 3 nights in order to attend my nephew's wedding. Are there ever happier family occasions than weddings with the opportunity to catch up, in a joyous party atmosphere, with relatives you don't see as often as you would like? Unfortunately Covid intervened to prevent my mother coming, whilst my granddaughter succumbed to chicken pox meaning that neither she nor Dilly could travel. There must be something about weddings and viruses that seem intinsically linked for us in recent years, but at least Mister E and I were unscathed this time around. Mind it could also  have been much worse as the groom had unsuspectingly visited my mother the week before and was feeling so ill on New Year's Day that we w

  No, it may be 9th December but I haven't yet been to a Christmas  Disco. I know there's something about regressing as you age but going back to those teenage years when the whole of December seemed like one endless party isn't something I've yet subscribed to in retirement. That said, the Fitness Studio at the gym was recently upgraded to include vertical fluorescent strip lights on the walls that can be set to flash and change colour. Far superior in fact to the projected colours at the local community hall that my 15 year old self  frequented. In Keep Fit to Music the other day, the memories came flooding back, even if I was lying on the floor at the time in a hip bridge. I assure you it had nothing to do with any historic attempt at break dancing (which, in my youth, certainly hadn't caught on where I grew up). Rather, I think it was inspired by the Christmas soundtrack that the instructor had introduced by way of seasonal gesture.  All those Christmas melodies

How do the truly elderly navigate bureaucracy? Recently I had an uncomfortable experience from checking an older relative's energy bill. Her gas and electricity come from one of our largest providers and back in August when I had conducted the same check, I submitted meter readings for her, naively thinking that her direct debit payments would be reduced because of the credit that had built up. Now why ever would I think that an energy supplier might behave decently and do this, especially for somebody whom it has listed as a vulnerable person? Yesterday it was apparent that instead not only had the direct debit payment been increased but the credit was now running into 4 figures and so far as I could see approximated a whole year's supply of energy. Not wanting to telephone, because I really can't stand those awful "Your call is important to us," messages as you hold for eternity, I decided to try the chat bot. I succinctly explained that we were looking for a re

  Hunkering down from the wintry weather, I've picked up a piece of embroidery that I must have begun over twenty years ago, possibly just after the youngest was born. I have a vague recollection of working on it again upon the birth of a niece or nephew but essentially it has lain untouched in a drawer for two decades. Memory plays tricks, so when I saw it there I was convinced that it was almost complete, only to unfold it and discover quite the contrary. On the basis that I'm always up for a challenge in retirement and there's nothing to entice me to venture out this weekend, I decided to concentrate on endeavouring, at long last, to finish it. Clearly you don't call it cross-stitch for nothing. In fact I'd go so far as to say you don't call it cross stitch because of its shape and intersecting lines. Rather the name must surely derive from the vexing nature of pushing needle through cotton and back at the exact points required by the pattern and all the whil

  This morning I awoke in the Loch Lomond and Trossachs National Park, at Crianlarich which is often described as the Gateway to the Highlands.  I had not been kidnapped, so rising there was no surprise as Mister E and I had travelled up as part of a pre-winter visit to the Retirement Project.   I always love waking in the Scottish countryside. It doesn't matter where, as inevitably you are surrounded by the vastness of  landscape. The photographs hardly do the location justice, snatched as they were quickly on my mobile phone at first light and before Mister E scraped the ice from the windscreen and we headed westwards to the coast and marina. Whenever I stay away from home, I never cease imagining what it would be like to live in that place permanently. Retirement is obviously the perfect opportunity to relocate to the perfect fantasy destination. Accepting that downsizing may be necessary at some point, where, with an almost infinite choice, would we downsize to? Flights of fanc

  A little after 4pm and it was so black outside that we had to put the lights on. Storm Debi has been making itself known all day with heavy rain and a strong wind. In fact the weather was so disgusting that after a brief foray for Yoga and Pilates classes I was glad to get home and hunker down. Contending with foul conditions on top of everything else only adds to the torment and tension. I've always said that one of the benefits of retirement has been an ability to follow the seasons and live life accordingly but I'm not so sure about relating to or synchronising with these short, dark, depressing days.  When I was last able to get out into the garden for a limited tidy up in readiness for what feels like a fast approaching winter, I noticed that we appear to be hosting a hedgehog's nest behind some shrubbery. It made me wonder whether hibernation might actually be an appropriate way to harmonise with the coming months. It's been a pattern of our retirement to try to

  Reverting to our headache of an oil leak , there was finally progress this week. Firstly we had confirmation that the loss adjuster has approved the strategy for the installation of a new waterpipe as well as the clean up operation. Secondly, but perhaps more ominously, the loss adjuster's surveyor visited primarily to take photographs in case the proposed works cause cracking or other damage He didn't simply confine himself to the areas where the digging out will take place inside and out, but also photographed the rest of our downstairs including the rooms that were decorated only a few months ago. Thank goodness we have had the foresight to hold back on replacing the soft furnishings and lighting, although we have been hoping to escape with dust rather than fractures to the walls. Resilience and optimism remain high even if we struggle to gather clouds with silver linings. It's not how we would have planned this stage of retirement  but we have to appreciate what we do

  What is it about water that entices us? Like all living things we need it to survive but how often have you read claims about its healing powers and the sense of well-being that it brings? The health claims extend to a myriad of wellness spas, not to mention the explosion in popularity of wild swimming. I cannot claim that going in search of running water is part of our strategy to build resilience . Indeed a brief trip last week might be better described as an escape from the issues that are besetting us. However, it's amazing how spending the night in a small hotel less than 40 miles away really satisfied that desire for peace and contentment and not just because we had tap water that we could actually drink and clean our teeth with!   After meeting a friend at Barnard Castle for the day, Mister E and I headed onwards up into the heart of Teesdale. We were blessed with benign conditions and as well as clean drinking water, soaked up the sight, sound and majesty of not one but t

   A few weeks ago I bought a singing bowl whilst visiting a Nepalese craft fair. There's a certain skill to inducing a sound but once perfected the effect is a harmonious reverberation that lingers for several minutes. Sitting cross-legged which is never easy with my unstable right knee, the bowl induces a feeling of calm and self-compassion.  It's another stopping place on my path of discovery in the world of retirement. So much so that two weekends ago I attended a Sound and Meditation workshop which left me tingling with the vibrations for 24 hours afterwards. Buoyed by the experience, last night I went to a soundbath in a village church some 15 miles away. Lying down in the darkness of the aisle, atop a yoga mat and huddled in layers and a blanket, I closed my eyes and let the oscillations take over. The sound, generated by various singing bowls, bells,  rattles  and  gongs , was complemented by the acoustics of the stone building and I pulsed from within. Sound baths are

  It is said that when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade. Embrace positivity and turn your misfortune into a beneficial and perhaps even enjoyable experience. I thought I'd come up with something similar within the constraints of my greenhouse recently. Somebody earlier in the year suggested that I grow cucamelons. I confess that I found the prospect of growing a cross between a melon and a cucumber rather exciting, duly sowed the seeds and nurtured the seedlings that followed. There was no hint on the seed packet as to how large the fruit grew and I think, understandably, I was expecting something perhaps mango sized.  When the plants became overcome by tiny fruit, at best 2 centimetres in length, I reached out to colleagues in the village gardening club for guidance. The consensus was that this was the limit of their size and that they go well as an addition to cocktails as well as being eaten as a sweet canap é . Reader, to my mind, they can best be described as an

  It is the first day of May and obviously I began it by washing my face with the dew on the May blossom from the hawthorn hedges before taking my place, ribbon in hand, by the maypole on the village green. Yes, I have been idly dreaming but sometimes there is a pang for the old traditions that persisted for centuries until we all became a little too sophisticated and learnt to prefer the immersive entertainment of the television screen. In our local market town an ancient charter still upholds the right to hold a May Fair in the High Street for 4 days. For hundreds of years I have no doubt that its main purpose was to trade animals and hire itinerant agricultural workers. Today it is a noisy funfair, allegedly encouraging pickpockets and petty shoplifters into the centre whilst creating mayhem for the traffic flow as a consequence of road closures. It does, however, serve its purpose in getting people to congregate and mix whilst bringing smiles to small children's faces. I guess

   I have been put on notice that my name will shortly be removed from the Solicitors' Register  unless I pay the paltry sum of £20 to cover administrative charges incurred by the Regulatory Authority in complying with data protection requirements. Since I retired I have remained on the roll albeit in a non-practising capacity, although and until now no fee had been levied for the privilege. At £20 the sum is nominal but frankly is there any point if I love retirement so much that I have no intention of ever returning to practice?  Apparently, so long as my name is on the roll I have the benefit of being able to vote in Law Society elections, something I have never done since retiring. I can also make use of the Law Society's premises in Chancery Lane which I have actually visited in retirement, but only once. I will continue to receive regular professional updates and the online copy of the professsion's magazine. I'd be lying if I said I'd never glanced at them in

Do birthdays become more or less important as you get older? I've had one this week but on the basis that it's not considered I've turned a significant age have pretty much downplayed it, or so I thought. Of course, there's always that red-letter day feeling and I treated myself by staying away from the gym (figure that one out, if you can) and avoided anything that could be deemed an obligation rather than a pleasure. Now I know cards aren't a thing anymore especially amongst the younger generations and throughout the day I received plenty of text messages to keep me buoyed, but our postman let me down big time. I think he must be carrying on  the postal workers' industrial action single handedly because we haven't seen him since Monday. That wouldn't normally bother me but this week I realised how much of a birthday tradition opening that array of coloured envelopes is, and missed glowing in the warmth generated by all the good wishes for my unique day