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Showing posts with the label Relating

The Joy of Grandparenting

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  We spent last week in the Lake District, treated to the torrential rain and wind provided by not one but two storms. On the plus side, as the height of the beck outside rose and rose, it was a great excuse to simply stay in on a couple days  to play with our granddaughter who joined us there with her parents, the Eldest and Dilly.  The net result was that I made up for the lack of fell walking by the number of circuits completed around the sofa chasing one small toddler who is now so confident on her feet that she is trying to run whilst squealing with delight. If that wasn't exhausting in itself, the lively debates that happen with an eleven month old certainly are. Armed only with a vocabulary of four words she can certainly argue. The first two words are obviously Mummummum and Dadada but when the second two are very clearly "yes" and "no," the adults are in trouble! If I had any doubts whatsoever on the reproductive score, I now fully comprehend why givin

Cold Comfort

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  The temperature has plummeted outside but thank goodness. At least it might kill off some of the nasty bugs that are doing the rounds not to mention those that would otherwise be plaguing the garden later in the year. I'm still hunkering down, although fortunately the sniffling is subsiding and if it hadn't been for all the black ice, might have been tempted to attempt a return to the gym this morning.  I've only had one foray out in the last fortnight and that was to fulfil a longstanding hair appointment. I paid the price the following day with something of a relapse whilst the journey home, as dusk was quickly turning to darkness, was sufficient to put me off ever venturing out again. First a Jack Russell barking at the end of a farm's drive decided it wanted to hurl itself at my car, presumably to ensure I  kept moving which, after swerving to avoid it, I duly did. A sigh of relief, at which point two deer with a joint death wish leapt out in front of me; emergenc

Your Health and Happiness

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  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

Christmas Yoga

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  I guess the title Christmas Yoga conjures up images of various poses in Santa Claus hats. Whilst a few eager contemporaries squeezed in a yoga session yesterday morning, the rest of us waited until early afternoon to make an appearance in the function room of a local public house for a festive get together. In retirement large Christmas social events can be pretty much non-existent. Indeed I'm sure I've left the days of polite conversation, wine and canapes under a ceiling of gawdy decorations, behind me in the business world. Yesterday was something quite different. A group of approximately 2 dozen retired ladies, who are committed to practising Yoga (at least now and again), dispensed with their leggings and instead congregated in their best frocks to enjoy a Christmas dinner together. The bar did a roaring trade, a relatively sedate quiz became a raucous affair and the laughter, chatting and occasional outbreak of song, went on for more than 4 hours. There were crackers an

The Last Resort

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  The Eldest and Dilly completed the purchase of their first home in August but have continued to live elsewhere whilst they restore and decorate to their satisfaction. Yesterday I visited a niece who has only just moved back into her house after a period of 6 months, again to allow refurbishment to take place. It all makes Mister E's and my desire to remain in our home whilst the floors are drilled out, despite knowing that the facilities we have access to will be reduced, appear a little bizarre.  Are we stalwarts from another age? Has retirement rendered us incapable of coping with change? Are we simply showing early signs of cognitive decline? Have we entered an era of indolence? I guess it's hard to explain our thought processes, especially to those younger family members who have willingly left their homes vacant and sought to avoid disturbance and potential misery by basing themselves elsewhere. To be honest, I'm not sure I can even explain our reasoning to myself. W

Losing Confidence

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Whilst older people are often happier than in their earlier years, after 60 (linked to retirement and health issues) it seems that self esteem and confidence can begin to deteriorate. A group of us discussed this over coffee today between gym classes. Blame was attributed to a variety of factors including the long Covid lockdowns, physical afflictions, loss and grief and, in the last couple of years, so many bad news stories emanating from wars or climate change. In no way do I feel exempt from the potential impact. There's so much out there at the personal level and on the wider horizon that can frighten me to bits were I to let it. Knowing how easy it was to end up on a hospital trolley hooked up to a heart monitor and drip in the Emergency Department; the difficulty getting travel insurance as a result; catching Covid on holiday ; the demise and serious illnesses of close family members as well as others I have known ; the ongoing issues with my knee ; they are all playing a ro

Progress of Sorts

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  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

Joy

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  It's quite common in some of the Yoga sessions I attend for the instructor to open the class with a poem. Something short and meaningful that we can hold onto. A calming theme to focus on during the practice perhaps. Maybe my mind is just too active because it doesn't always have that effect. Yesterday was one of those instances and on this occasion the poem was called "Joy Chose You," by Donna Ashworth. She has the whole piece on her Facebook page if you are interested in reading it but in it she indicates that we "usher joy away because (we) are not ready for it." Instead we can be too busy getting our home clean and tidy or trying to perfect our lives or earn money, all so that we can live happily.  Joy, Ashton points out, however, "cares nothing for your messy home, or your bank balance or your waistline." Instead she claims it works by sneaking into the "cracks of your imperfect life" so you cannot invite it in, but only be ready

A Night for Reflection

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  New Year's Eve, a night for reflection when, as you may have gathered from my blog post here yesterday I am hardly in the party mood; instead I am full of cold and sick of people! Well the latter isn't qute true but you get my drift. Once upon a time when I was relatively young, staying in at New Year would have resulted in the initiation of a full medical examination. These days I don't even suffer from that relatively new disease known as the Fear of Missing Out. In fact, looking at posts by friends on my Facebook Timeline not to mention WhatsApp messages, staying in could even be the new normal. It seems I have reached the age when people wish you a Happy New Year at 8pm before disappearing to bed with a good book and a yawn. That's retired living for you; a few days of merriment at Christmas and it's enough partying for the rest of the year. Before I jump on the bandwagon and head up the stairs myself, I thought I really should take a moment to reflect on 202

Let It Go

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  Over the years I have adopted the habit of reading the Booker prize short-list. As a consequence I often find myself immersed in a tremendous book.  Long reservation times at the library mean that I am still waiting for some of the novels that were so accoladed this year to become available. To date, however, I can only express my disappointment, especially as the last specimen took me 3 weeks of hard graft and dedication to complete. I confess, tholokuti (is that enough to tell you which book it was?), I could easily have been persuaded to cease reading it altogether except, without skipping to the final page and despite it being an allegory and political satire where I surely knew the ending, I did want confirmation of what happened next. I was inevitably disappointed by my chore of endurance. In fact, I almost convinced myself that I had just forgotten how to enjoy a book when my usual pattern is to become so absorbed that I complete any novel within 2 to 3 sessions and then have

Smartphone Update

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  In the early days of this blog, one of my post popular posts mulled over what I then considered to be a smartphone dilemma. On retiring I was obliged to return the iPhone issued to me for work and was trying to decide whether or not I would actually need one solely for personal use. That's definitely not a blog entry that has stood the test of time. I  did resolve the issue by purchasing an android smartphone and have, of course, never looked back and to the extent that I have recently updated it for a second time.  Keeping in touch with friends and family via WhatsApp, especially the eldest when he was living in New Zealand, is an imperative and with the opportunity for group chats it's so much more useful than text messaging with of course the option for video calls too. Then there's the app I use to book gym classes and one to synchronise with the Fitbit on my wrist. It carries my electronic calendar and To Do List as well as my contacts' telephone numbers and add

Family Intrigue and Promotion

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  Dilly's Mum has just had her first book, The Secret of Elephants, published. It was released yesterday and I completed reading it earlier this evening. Now I am not one to include book reviews in my blog but on this occasion, let me just say that the intrigue of the plot held my attention sufficiently that I was compelled to read it from start to finish as quickly as possible, allowing only for my other commitments. The story gives an insight into a multi-generational family divided between India and Zimbabwe but united by their joint heritage. Whilst we are given a true flavour of Indian culture it is tinged too with the impact of global westernisation and for the reader a subtle insight that humankind whether it be in Asia, Africa or Europe shares so much in common.  I know that the author is in the process of completing her second novel and also that to do so has required hardwork, time and diligence in order to meet deadlines set by her publisher. All that whilst still perfor

Party Girl

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    Definitely out of practice. A family party to celebrate a double retirement at the weekend and I'm still in recovery mode. Worse still that's despite playing the part of the no-drinking driver and being home and tucked up in bed by 11.30pm. It was a great night for dancing, even if I did find the music several decibels louder than I might have chosen but my knees continue to pay the price. My throat too still feels hoarse from all the shouting over the sound system.  Well for an hour or three it was good to recall that this is how the Saturday nights of youth were regularly spent. Now, in retirement, a party only comes around every 6 to 8 months; probably just long enough for the euphoria to abate and a proper recuperation to take effect. Retirement is a worthy cause for celebration  but in this instance I even wondered if I was actually the only fully retired person in the room. The shining example for all to aspire to as I strutted my stuff on the dance floor... or, in re

Cognitive Ability and the Barry Humphries UK Tour 2022 Promo Clip

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Ageing and memory loss purportedly go hand in hand; Covid-19 and brain fog dominate the headlines; there's also menopause with the impact on cognitive functions of changing oestrogen levels. Is it little wonder that I am a tad paranoid at present? Then at the weekend the Observer published a story on the hidden long terms risks of surgery  where studies have shown that the brain takes a pounding in the arms of anaesthesia. Call me neurotic if you wish but I am now constantly on the look out for personal symptoms signalling a worrying decline. I'm not sure that, whilst lunching with my brilliant gym buddies today, muddling up the name of a potential venue for a future meet up is a concerning sign or not. Still I am conscious that where once I might have relied on pure mental ability to house a personal calendar and schedule deadlines, I now have a tendency to make a digital list synchronising across all devices. Mister E prefers paper and pen, but as a consequence

Hare Today

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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

Tormented

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  I don't like to feel totally helpless, but events at the other end of Europe over the past 24 hours have created that torment regardless. Somehow it seems absurd to post a blog entry updating you on my cushioned way of life whilst others are forced to fight for theirs or else leave everything to flee for safety. It is hard to appreciate just how much we take our freedom and comfortable lifestyles for granted and how ineffective we potentially are in protecting the liberties of others. There again and at moments like these it is easy to have our own "What if it were us?" moments or to feel guilt when putting something pleasurable in the diary for next month. Are our lives really going to proceed as normal or is a vile dictator on the verge of spoiling life as we know it for everybody? So much for the Universal Declaration of Human Rights when at least one of the five permanent members of the UN Security Council can just disregard its contents at will. A 21st century act

Relaxation

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  I don't think I'm really cut out for this rest and recovery malarkey. In addition to the fact that the slightest bit of activity seems to justify a rest that's more than twice as long as the period of action, my sleep pattern too appears to have extended itself by an extra 30 minutes or more at both ends. A short walk as taken yesterday and the day before was thwarted today by Storm Dudley. That was a shame, as getting out into the fresh air, even for just a brief period of time, really energised and enlivened me although the effect was not sustained. There's a lot of truth in that "Blow the cobwebs away," saying. Unfortunately, had I ventured out today, it might have been more than cobwebs that became windswept. My attention span too is limited, so once the day's Wordle is completed, time is filled flicking through a magazine rather than reading a gripping book; chatting on the phone with friends and family or watching television, the trashier the bette

A Day Out

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  There's nothing like a day out to boost the mood. When your destination is an unknown quantity that you have never visited before, it provides both stimulation and reinvigoration. The problem at the moment can be persuading yourself to enter potentially crowded places. However, on the basis that so many people are thinking likewise or sheltering from the cold, frequently a place that would normally be teeming with people can, contrary to all expectations, be deserted. So yesterday found me travelling again by train, this time to meet up with a friend for a visit to the Bankfield Museum in Halifax where an art exhibition by Kate Lycett had been recommended to us. Her paintings were an interesting mixture of  golden threads, geometric patterns, and landscape in an architectural style. I confess that after admiring her work, I subsequently wasn't surprised to discover that she had been influenced by an architect originally and had also specialised in textiles. The colours were

In Flames

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  (Image by DeSa81 from Pixabay ) Recent reports of forest fires around the world have been distressing. Conflagrations that burn and burn have to be one of the worst human nightmares.  Closer to home, we have suffered our own blaze as the local television mast went up in flames yesterday depriving almost a million homes across the region of their radio and TV reception, "indefinitely" according to some reports. Obviously a Smart TV would be the answer but with the constraints on rural broadband I'm unsure how many people will be able to rely satisfactorily on this if everyone starts to stream at the same time. There are also many households (we being one of them) who don't even possess such technology although we do cast to our living room TV from a variety of other devices instead. Fortunately we are still at that stage of retirement where the television set is frequently silent as we find other diversions to distract and entertain us. Fast forward another 20 years

Life's Purpose

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  (Image by Arek Socha from Pixabay )   In the Guardian today , columnist Zoe Williams posed the question: Where do we find life's purpose? I read the article, hoping to find the answer. Instead, she concluded that the people to ask are those of us who are retired! Fonts of all knowledge and masters of the universe, have we actually discovered the meaning of life? Of course, retirement presents the opportunity to search, to experiment and to wonder. But obviously if I had the answer, I wouldn't have read the article in the hope of learning something I think the gist of what she was writing is that when we discover that work itself does not meet our quest for fulfilment, what will? That of course is the scary thing about retirement; defined by work, how will we fill our time, will it be enough to satisfy us? Some people don't adapt. There's a large hole where work used to be and they return. Others find it a time of contentment but is that the purpose of life, contentm