A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

  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 ...

This past week, there has been progress. A small mechanical digger, a wheelbarrow and shovels plus 2 men to operate them have wreaked havoc on our drive. They dug a trench from water meter to house wall and then into the garage, laying the new waterpipe complete with aluminium barrier.  With piles of earth everywhere, along with that trench, it was hard not to recall the throw away comment of the Project Manager months ago when he indicated that once they started to dig, the garden would resemble the Somme. He wasn't far off. Fortunately they've done a good job of putting everything back the way it should be. Now it's simply a question of waiting for the plumber to connect the house fittings to the pipe, followed swiftly by the joining of the new pipe to the water meter and at that point our supply of safe drinking water from the tap should resume. Talk about excitement; it won't be a moment too early when it happens. I think the fervour hit the Project Manager too as h...

  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 ...

    Yesterday was the pits. At least that was what the email I received implied.   "I shall be arriving at 10 am to start digging trial pits," wrote the contamination expert. I'm not sure quite what I was expecting; some kind of lunar landscape interspersed with deep craters perhaps. Oh well if we haven't been able to get away and fly to the moon or indeed anywhere, creating the effect in your back garden might just have the same impact and without all the hassle of airport check-ins. In the end, however, the work was far less intrusive. Fear the worst and hope for the best they say.  Directly attributable to a month or more of detection work by Mister E and me, as well as too much time spent on hands and knees sniffing in strange corners, I'm pleased to say that we were able to direct the expert and his shovel to within a couple of feet of striking oil. It wasn't quite a spout bursting from the core of the earth but, drilling down and scraping away, he found ...

  This weekend marks 5 weeks of living on bottled water. Not the most auspicious of anniversaries, coinciding as it has with Plastic Free July and ruining all attempts on my part to live more sustainably. So the stress runs on, but we are building our resilience.  In my case, I have found that throwing myself into exercise classes and some heavy gardening certainly helps and undoubtedly has me falling asleep even before I get into bed. Last weekend the Village Gardening Club co-ordinated a tour of members' gardens. Rain had forced me to abandon any effort to weed and I confess that my flower beds, with some in an ongoing state of renovation, were an embarrassment. I devote my time in early summer to the vegetable patch and then never find a weather window to sort the rest of the garden; it's usually too wet, too windy or too hot making the clay soil seal like concrete. However, shamed by the success of others and helped by ideal conditions, this past week Mister E and I have f...

  I'm not sure why but I do love my garden. However, toiling for hours to produce fresh produce just at the time it is widely available in the shops and consequently relatively cheap, surely requires some explanation. I think it is that mixture of nature and nurture, not in the sense of the great psychology debate but from the perspective of getting up close and dirty with the first, whilst deriving pleasure and reward from the actual process of rearing all those seedlings and cuttings. Experimentation and creativity abound; the economics of production are irrelevant. However, there is no doubt that it can be back-breaking and tiring. Since retiring, I have concentrated on trying to reduce some of the more physical aspects of digging and weeding. Consequently, I now have a system for adding compost and turning the soil immediately each bed has been harvested, covering it with a weed suppression fabric until it is time for planting again. In the flowerbeds too, I have begun to use b...

  When you are working so often busyness, stress and fatigue are held up like an award of honour displayed proudly on your chest. In reality they are debilitating and in due course exhaustion can lead to burn out. There are still occasions when I feel overburdened but unlike my pre-retirement days it's so much easier to remedy the situation. This week, as well as all the cleaning up from last week's disasters and on top of my normal schedule, I've put myself under pressure by seeking to dig over, compost and re-mulch the garden whilst the sun shines and before the clay soil turns once again to something that resembles concrete. Contemporaneously I'm trying to build in a variety of self watering systems based on wicking and capillary actions. There are seedlings to transplant and pot on, as well as more seeds to be sown directly into vegetable  beds. It's a race against time and it feels like I'm losing. Nowadays I know that the most important things in life are ...

  Here in the north of the country we are suffering from a typically miserable (weather-wise) Bank Holiday weekend. Temperatures have struggled to make even double digits and it has rained almost continuously. Pretty much what I was trained to expect whilst working but, despite the flexibility that retirement brings, when you are conscious as to how far behind the garden is this season, it is potentially frustrating all the same. Moreover, I say that as somebody who, in retirement, claims not to "do frustration." Mid week it was a very different picture, the sun shone brightly, we had blue sky and although it was certainly not warm, it brought spring into the step as well as confirmation of the season. I've spent all winter looking forward to such days. They certainly impact upon behaviour as the need to nest-build and declutter strikes. This last fortnight we've been seriously affected, deciding to redecorate our bedroom from floor to ceiling. Is it just me or do ste...

  Yesss! It's hard to know how to express my delight but today was my first time working in the garden this year. To be honest, I wasn't entirely looking forward to what I anticipated would be a somewhat chilly occasion but there are a couple of pruning jobs that have to be undertaken in February and I had resolved to start them this weekend. Conditions, however, were so delightful that I extended my time outside and did three times what I had planned. I was rewarded not only with a front garden that looks distinctly more tidy than when I started but that feeling of being alive and at one with the world.  Bulbs are peeping through, there are crocuses in bloom and tiny buds aplenty. The birds were singing loudly and I even sowed some seeds to germinate indoors. The season of rebirth is beginning and in another month or three the bare shrubs are going to be resplendent once again in green. It's hard to describe how completely uplifting the whole experience was. Spring eases i...

  The weather has been a little tricky this year in the garden. The vegetable plot got off to a late start with frost persisting into May. It was mid-June before we began to detect any real warmth in the weather. Before we knew it, and despite a lack of sustained sunshine, drought conditions persisted and by August a hose-pipe ban was instated which, despite now weeks of wet conditions, I understand was finally lifted this week. Of most concern to me, however, is the rapidity with which we have suddenly moved from constant rain or drizzle to cold temperatures. Fair weather gardener that I am, I've been avoiding a soaking by seeking out activities more pleasurable than undertaking an autumn clear up. Obviously this means that now we have limited hours of daylight, grey skies and damp miserable conditions, I've been crawling around in the mud planting bulbs and clearing dead foliage.  What did I say in my last blog entry about letting go of anything that doesn't spark joy? Ex...

  Returning from a week away we have been welcomed by an abundance. Unfortunately not all abundances are welcome equally.     The fruit and vegetables were appreciated, less so the multitude of wasps helping themselves to the profusion of apples and plums. Then, of course, there was the big job of watering everything, although luckily there had been some rain during our absence and the water butts were brimming once again. Where, however, have all those cats suddenly appeared from? It seems they've taken advantage of our being away to add the garden to their territorial claims. Talk about an invasion; the battle to regain our land and expel unwanted visitors has begun. Finally there was the mountain of work (a dirty word in retirement). It wasn't just fruit picking for which I had to don leather gloves to protect against buzzing insect life but also, now that the temperature has cooled, the pressure is on to complete our current unfinished project of  restoring the ...

  Oh my goodness, it has been warm. 39 degrees last Tuesday afternoon was simply outrageous. It felt like a foreign vacation minus the swimming pool and waiter, which I now realise are vital in that kind of heat. Worse still the humidity gave birth to zillions of tiny sciarid flies, almost as irritating as mosquitoes which fortunately still haven't made an appearance in this part of the world. That said, at least retirement meant we could just give ourselves up to the heat and do nothing unless swilling the rear patio shaded from the morning sun counts, after all the water round my feet was the nearest I was getting to a paddle that day. I can't begin to imagine working in those temperatures although an air-conditioned office could appeal. In my case I have resorted to the car and the fitness studio for cool air to be piped in, well it's either that or shopping in the freezer aisle. Normally an exceptionally warm summer's day here might reach 27 degrees after which a 10...

 😱😱😱 One third of the way through a long Bank Holiday weekend and I awoke this morning feeling like a cross between Edvard Munch's The Scream and that screeching emoji. To be more precise and to clarify, it was my muscles that were screaming though, not my vocal chords. Despite knowing better, not only did I spend all day yesterday digging, lifting and bending in the garden but I totally overlooked stretching off afterwards. Away from a studio class, stretches of the quad, calf and hamstring, not to mention back and side bends, don't seem to feature in my regular routine. After 6 hours of hard labour they really must; the tragedy of course was that I only remembered this when I descended the stairs this morning, rigid and in agony. One of the tribulations of my retirement is always that I want my body to do more than ever whilst caught in a never ending spiral of ageing and stiffness. Fortunately the pain has eased, not least after deliberately extending my limbs and spine i...

  I wholeheartedly subscribe to the notion that Nature always uplifts the spirit. Don't, therefore, dismiss me for the fact that I enjoy spending many hours of my retirement in the garden and no, I don't mean on a sun-lounger. The long Easter weekend has seen me pottering in the flower borders, sowing vegetable seeds in the greenhouse and taking cuttings from shrubs for propagation. I understand that this is not necessarily how many might wish to pass their time but perhaps they may feel more empathy with my means of deriving enjoyment if I divulge that the weekend culminated with an evening in the village pub. The third Monday of the month and it was of course Gardening Club! Well sometimes you do have to take your hobbies to that next level and what better way than discussing the finer points of soil, slugs and spuds whilst sipping a drink. It truly made my heart sing which, believe me, is better than it beating too fast.    

 One visitor down, I thought, as I waved the youngest off on Thursday afternoon following a far too brief stay. I quickly comforted myself with the thought that there were two more to welcome, with Dilly and the eldest scheduled to arrive yesterday. Having guests to stay and mixing over the long Easter Bank Holiday weekend is of course almost a novelty after being strictly prohibited for the last two years. Sadly, Covid-19 intervened again when Dilly tested positive on Thursday night after feeling under the weather for a couple of days. In a spirit of preparation we had, of course, already filled the fridge in readiness. Whilst some items could be frozen the prospect of more generous portions than usual and an empty diary saw me heading quickly to the gym where I even booked an extra class. I'm sure that in retirement I eat nothing like the quantity I used to, but burning extra calories just in case suddenly seemed a perfect way to spend Good Friday!  The weather has taken a t...

I always know it's March when the hares begin to entertain in the field beyond our garden. Courtship rituals seem to involve madcap chases and boxing matches. "Hare today; spring tomorrow," is the message of the month. Of course, so much time has elapsed since I last posted an entry here that I've not only been watching the hares for several weeks but spring has actually arrived. My healing process has proceeded apace and fortunately enabled me to get into the garden with a spade, just in time to enjoy some wonderful warm spring weather. Snow is now forecast for Wednesday but it was good whilst it lasted.  Spring is regarded as the season for rebirth and it is so enjoyable to watch the bulbs blooming and buds bursting into blossom.  After an absence of over 2 years, we also got to visit our retirement project, six hours away at Crinan. That has to be another renaissance to add to the month's total. Moreover the weather there was magnificent, enabling us once again...

  I made the most of my Get Out of Jail Free card (after negative lateral flow tests on Days 5 and 6) to wander up the road to the postbox this afternoon. Actually I could have escaped my incarceration by doing exactly that yesterday but this egregious restriction on my liberty, unwarranted though it may have been, wasn't exactly limiting anything I was looking to do and bearing in mind it poured with rain all day on Sunday, I decided to postpone my sniff of freedom for benign weather conditions. After 11 days of indoor recuperation it was a strange feeling going out by myself, even if it was just for 10 minutes. I was interested to see how my heart might react to the sustained effort of a short uphill stroll. Fortunately I think any elevation in its rate has been more than offset by the intake of fresh air by my lungs, so the jury remains out pending the outpatient monitoring as to any ongoing effects. Importantly, it set up my confidence for more tomorrow (fair weather dependent...

  Say what you like but you don't properly appreciate the change from  autumn to winter until you are retired. I know when working there are the horrors of a commute through snow and ice on occasions, whilst retirement affords the opportunity to huddle indoors and avoid the harshness of the conditions outside. However, it is in retirement that there is the time to observe what's happening outdoors as the leaves change colour and fall to the ground, and also to participate actively in the transition from one season to the next. It's certainly not the role of a calm observer either. This week, conscious of a forecast which translates into winter beginning tomorrow with plummeting temperatures and no obvious recovery for the forseeable, Mister E and I have been in a mad rush to batten the proverbial hatches.  The garden has been put to bed with the sunken vegetable beds tucked up in weed suppression fabric and the containers with tender plants moved into the greenhouse. Shru...