A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

  It was my third morning back at the gym today. Apart from forgetting my trainer shoes (again!), I confess to being modestly proud to have survived unscathed. So far there are no screaming muscles, my joints aren't stiff and I'm ready to do it all again tomorrow (trainer shoes packed in readiness). Conscious of  fast approaching the era for physical decline, yesterday I found my attention online diverted to a somewhat old study on the benefit of being able to sit down onto the floor and then stand up again without using your hands. I surprised myself by being able to do this relatively comfortably. That's just as well, because the study from more than a decade ago suggests that failure gave a seven times greater likelihood of dying within six years. On the one hand that could suggest that this blog might be around for a while yet. On the other, and on the basis that I'm pretty sure I probably couldn't do that in the early days of retirement not to mention during th...

  I know that across the world there are so many communities that through war, natural disasters or lack of funding for infrastructure are going without what we in the West regard as basic necessities. Contaminated water alone brings so much illness and disease. The statistics are appalling. According to Water Aid’s website,  almost 1 in 10 people globally do not have access locally to clean water. Back at Chez Nous, retired life has had some luxury restored to it with a temporary connection from the new water pipe to the house. After laboratory testing early in January, we are confident that the Do Not Drink Notice will be revoked. The best Christmas present ever! It would be wonderful if we could share it with those who will continue without but, in the absence of some truly miraculous Christmas magic, I guess a charity donation must suffice. In the meantime my best wishes too for your very own Happy Christmas.

  I know that as you age it is considered common to have issues with your urinary tract or prostate. Mister E and I however seem fated to have problems with a different kind of plumbing. The central heating has been a headache on occasions with a blocked radiator and more recently a screw through a pipe.  We currently have an issue with the heads on the Retirement Project too. However all this pales into insignificance when compared to events of the past 3 weeks. I've moved from a state of shocked paralysis, through panic to waking up in the night attempting to logically solve the problem at 3.30am (it never works and just leads to continuing insomnia). If I ever thought I'd left the world of stress behind me the day I retired, I could not have been proved further wrong. Hot sweaty palms, a fast beating heart and bouts of sudden nausea have all made their inevitable appearance. It started a few days after we returned from our Baltic trip (and believe me, I could now do with ...

  I know food inside packaging is shrinking as manufacturers try to convince us that the current round of price rises isn't as bad as we know it to be. But surely that shouldn't apply to books as well? "Brevity is the soul of wit," says Polonius in Shakespeare's Hamlet (an ironic point for a character who was somewhat verbose). Perhaps I'm just stumbling across particularly clever literature, but if a book length of 70 pages or so is gripping then, a little like the chocolates in the box on the supermarket shelf, I want more. Conversely if the writing is awful then you might think I've been relieved of the chore of turning too many pages. Since resolving not to stick with disappointing novels , whether it's a novella or trilogy I can, of course, just as easily ditch both at an early point. No, my complaint here is that for some curious reason the books I have been reading this year are much shorter than I had expected. I suppose that comes from taking ...

  We have recently returned from another little foray. On this occasion we went to Malta and what can I say? Flying again after all this time- it was almost a new experience but bit by bit the memories return: the queues; the waiting; the cramped airline seats; the appalling range of  over priced and undertasting snacks; those passengers at the various airport checks with the wrong documentation. I could go on but, discomfort and all, it was quite simply great to be able to do it again. Malta too was a new to us destination. Another place that we had cancelled our planned visit to, back in 2020. A home from home in ways that I had not expected; well it always makes crossing the road easier when the traffic drives on the left, not to mention finding a post box when it's red! Staying in Valletta, we wandered to our limits finding the light, history and architecture very much to our pleasing; an urban photographer's paradise, even in the rain. We also had easy access to local bu...

  I took this photo  on a visit to Carlisle a few years ago. Had it a little more red and blue on the face, it would share a remarkable resemblance to how I look, at the moment! Yes, on Friday I continued this year's predilection for hospital visits and found myself back in the hospital waiting room nursing a litany of cuts, grazes, bruises and friction blisters. I think it counts as a sports injury sustained, as it was, on returning home from the gym when I decided to try a nose-dive from my front doorstep. The varifocal glasses I was wearing (and the undoubted cause for this latest attempt at self-destruction) dug hard into my face as I planed across the drive, swallowing grit and ultimately, as I lay recovering my breath and shivering with shock, dripping in blood. Three days later, I look as though I've only just survived a couple of rounds in a boxing ring with swelling above the left eye and a blister beneath reducing my vision and giving me a very definite street fight...

  Here we are: no blog entry on my part for over 3 weeks and now two in quick succession. Yes, I know, it's just like those proverbial double decker buses where, after waiting goodness knows how long, two arrive  at once. I suspect I could be turning into the blogging world's version of a fair weather friend/sailor/walker/gardener (take your pick). In my case, however, a bad weather blogger might be a more apt description. A spell of balmy days is always an excuse for avoiding chores and administrative tasks. Apologies, I'm overwhelmed by proverbs today which is why "Make hay whilst the sun shines," comes to mind. I do tend to take that saying a little too literally in retirement but it is fantastic to not only have a choice as to when to do something but to be able to select the right weather for it too. Of course, I'm not sure how my house and paper work would ever get done were I to inhabit warmer climes but, living in the north of England, I know we are ge...

  Last week the media expressed an inexplicable degree of excitement in the findings of a study from Singapore that concluded housework increases cognitive function as well as physical health in the elderly. Darn, the justification for recruiting a home-help in retirement diminishes by the day. To  be fair, as we already know, exercise is good for you and housework, it seems, is just a little more of that, making up for any shortfalls in recreational activity. In fact on those rare occasions when I actually clean windows the Fitbit on my wrist automatically recognises it as swimming. The study, however, notes the meaningful nature of housework as a key component of daily living. As Mister E and I gambol through our dust strewn and untidy home in pursuit of more stimulating projects, could meaning be missing from our lives? Have the washing machine and vaccum cleaner released me to exercise in gym classes only to deprive me of purposeful and fulfilling action? I suspect not. ...

  (Image by messersrach from Pixabay) The results of a YouGov survey published last month demonstrated an intriguing difference between the generations when describing a forthcoming weekend. It seems that under 40's refer to it as "this weekend" and over 50's as "next weekend" with those between 40 and 50 being equally divided as to how best to define it. Whoever is it that dreams up these surveys? But, having done so, what on earth can be going on here, apart from the confusion? Despite falling into the older age bracket, it seems that I am in a minority of 50 pluses who would allude to "this weekend" when their contemporaries say "next weekend" instead. I'd like to think it's because I remain young at heart but it's probably that I'm so accustomed to making arrangements with my offspring that I adopt their language.  Is it actually the case that younger people, busy at work or with young families, see the weekend as wi...

Mothering Sunday and I certainly felt like Old Mother Hubbard as a result, although neither a dog nor bone were involved.  Statistics published in the media suggested that as many as 40% of people were intending to flaunt the current Stay at Home Rules and risk a fine by visiting their mothers outside of the circumstances currently permitted by law. There was no problem on my part, as we are very much in a bubble and I visit 3 times a week in any event. My downfall was in dismissing those statistics as poppycock and assuming that I could pick up a bouquet of flowers on my way to visit.  I wasn't proposing daffodils in cellophane from a garage and deliberately steered clear of the garden centre where I imagined those looking for somewhere to take their mothers might be congregating, take-away coffee in one hand and a pot of dahlias in the other. Obviously I know florists have been operating behind closed doors but the idea of arranging a delivery and then turning up in person a...

  I may be a cynic, but I can also be an optimist spurred on by the giddy excitement of believing  that something better could be about to happen. Are you a glass half full or half empty kind of person?  I used to think that I veered towards the pessimistic, but either retirement has changed me or I've always tended to concentrate so much on the detail of the waterline itself that I rarely notice the level. Today was a case in point, not just because of a new juncture for democracy in the USA but also because of a myriad of events closer to home: The temperature for starters was 10 degrees and whilst it is already plummeting again, it could be a sign that the worst of the winter weather has been and gone. Indeed whilst plodging through the incessant rain, it was gratifying to notice snowdrops in flower. There are also masses of other bulbs now growing quickly in the garden, even if I did get soaked in the downpour peering at them, whilst indoors my amaryllis is blooming. ...

  I don't know if you use Google Maps Timeline or not. Some might describe it as a gross invasion of privacy tracking your every movement, I like to think of it as my insurance in the event of kidnapping. If you have Location History  switched on in your Google Account then probably, like me, you've had no reason to check it of late, after all who went anywhere in 2020? I was therefore surprised to receive an email with a 2020 update indicating that I'd been to one other country (and no it wasn't referring to Scotland), visited 19 new cities (Google's definition of a city seems to be pretty loose) and 41 new places in the course of 14 trips. Of course that had me scratching my head, I can recall trips all around Europe that we cancelled but 14 that we actually made, now that is somewhat incredible.   A little like cities and places, what Google describes as a trip differs from my own interpretation but it was fun delving into the timeline just to see what it had rec...

  (Image by Engin Akyurt from Pixabay)  I honestly don't know why I'm allowing a pandemic to influence my reading material but I have. A doctor friend recommended "Pale Rider," by Laura Spinney so I thought I would give it a go. " She described it as a readable history of the 1918 flu epidemic," and was right. In light of the latest case figures and announcement of a new national lockdown, today is somewhat dispiriting, so I thought I'd share the angst. The book was published in 2017 and not only did I appreciate the many similarities to the current pandemic gripping the world but was horrified to learn that it may have killed up to 100 million people or 20% of the world's population at the time. Imagine that in the context of the coronavirus figures on the Worldometer today. Following on the heels of the First World War, in Europe the flu pandemic of 1918 is generally regarded as a postscript to the war when in fact it was clearly the largest huma...

(Image by WikimediaImages from Pixabay )  I am not writing about therapy today, despite the title to this blog entry. Instead and arising from that wellness appointment yesterday, came the discovery that sadly I really am shrinking. A year or so ago, I had hoped that regular Pilates sessions might have arrested the progress of compression of the vertebrae that it seems the human body inclines towards as it ages. Indeed, there was a point when I was convinced that I had stretched myself out so as to regain my full height and even held lofty ambitions of perhaps adding another inch to my stature.   I had suspicions, however, that my efforts were no longer proceeding as hoped, aware that I now regularly struggle to open top windows or the upper shelf of a kitchen cabinet, even on tiptoes. The nurse delivered the slapdown with an adjustment of my medical records and that was it, a whole inch removed from the database. I suppose if we are all in the same boat then everyone of...

  I noticed that some of the newspapers have reported on figures recently published by Public Health England suggesting that, deprived of their friendship groups, the retired are turning to alcohol for comfort during the pandemic. Apparently we need something to spend all the money we are saving as a consequence of being deprived of holidays and eating out. Constrained, lonely and flush with cash we are hitting the bottle! Speak for yourself (hic..) but it must be a trend that has passed me by. I confess that back in March,  lockdown did seem a little like the beginning of a long holiday, meaning that Mister E and I perhaps cracked open a bottle of wine on a school night or two. However, we quickly realised that we were potentially in the clutches of the epidemic for the longer term and the novelty soon wore off. In any event a more detailed analysis of the figures suggests that the percentage of the over 55's who admit to drinking more is actually a minority, so perhaps I'm n...

  Image by Suhas Rawool from Pixabay I see this week the British Press has picked up on a study published in New Ideas in Psychology. It's by Norwegian expert Hermundur Sigmundsson and is titled Passion, Grit and Mindset in the ages 14 to 77: Exploring relationship and gender differences.  The media reports are obviously easier to read than the scientific analysis and their coverage of your get up and go leaving at the age of 53 has been amusing to say the least. Despite conjuring for me an image of John Wayne in True Grit, it is nevertheless an accepted given that passion, grit and mindset are amongst the most important attributes required in order to be successful . Sadly the study shows that the correlation between the three has broken down by our early fifties. We can get through with sheer tenacity but the passion is gone, or we still hold the belief but lack the energy. I guess I'm living proof of creeping cynicism as I age, an increased boredom threshold and yes my vit...

  My attention was drawn to an article in The Times the other day about a sense of  humour deficit. It referenced a book by Jennifer Aaker and Naomi Bagdonas entitled 'Humour, Seriously' which I vow I must read one day. Anyway the gist of the article was to point out that once we grow up and aquire the responsibilities of the workplace environment, human beings have a tendency to lose their sense of humour and give up on the giggles. It's a bit like all those surveys on enjoying life, we reach 23 and everything is downhill from then on. Or is it?  Just as life satisfaction picks up again in our sixties, it seems that cheeky sense of humour never really leaves us after all; it just lies buried under the myriad of red tape and bureaucracy that weighed us down for a few decades. Moreover a quick jump into retirement and a few weeks later there we are dancing to sunbeams and in my case laughing at sunflowers .  Clearly my own anecdotal evidence is probably in need of car...

I have received a letter inviting me to take part in a Covid-19 testing research study. It's being undertaken by Imperial College and Ipsos MORI on behalf of the Department of Health and Social Care and is intended to help the Government work out how many people have the virus in different parts of the country. The letter actually reads like an invitation to enter a free prize draw: "We have chosen your name at random...Go to the website..Enter your details..If you sign up, we will send you a package.." Until you read the small print on the back and there it is in black and white: "The test...may cause some mild short-lived discomfort." Now the dilemma this letter poses is, of course, threefold: 1. On the basis that I had a test only last week, will another one distort the testing figures that the Government proudly displays at its Daily Briefing? 2. Knowing how eye-wateringly uncomfortable the test is, could I actually administer it to myself properly?...

Well it's been another glorious week weather-wise. Whilst I've long since accepted one day seems to roll into another, all that glorious sunshine certainly brings a holiday vibe to daily proceedings. When it comes to vacations, we are not accustomed to booking months and months in advance. I think, we could be described as opportune travellers and even our air flights to New Zealand have generally only been reserved 8 or so weeks beforehand. However, last year, following on from that wonderful tour around Albania back in 2015 and totally contrary to all instincts, we booked a trip to Montenegro leaving on 17th June. With our EUrevoir travels abandoned or postponed as a consequence of the pandemic, Montenegro has been the little gem to look forward to. Except, obviously, like every other foreign traveller at the moment, the anticipation has been countered by trepidation, not least when I read that its health system is regarded as below par for Europe. Conseq...

Yesterday was, of course, the 75th anniversary of V.E. Day and, whilst I don't want to come over all Grinch-like, it provided the perfect ruse for thousands to defy the lockdown restrictions, breach social distancing guidelines and simultaneously fly the Union flag. Whether they did so because of a desire to party, to honour the war dead across Europe during the Second World War or simply out of jingoistic fervour, I neither know nor care. In fact there were probably many who had seen the headlines on the front pages of Thursday's newspapers and thought we were out of lockdown for the Bank Holiday anyway. Victory in Europe (not over Europe as the Daily Fail inappropriately printed in a souvenir offer recently) signified the end of a dreadful conflict across the continent some 3 months ahead of the armistice on 14th August 1945 (V.J. Day). More than 70 million people across the world lost their lives during that war which I think puts the ridiculous comparisons with th...