A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

  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...

We're heading towards the end of another year but why is it that once again I never managed to get all my borders dug over and bulbs planted before the gardening season came to an abrupt end? Forever the optimist, I'm still checking the forecast, hoping for a rise in temperature and one or two calm days in anticipation of finishing the job.  As a consequence of the digging that went on inside and outside the house starting in late 2023, autumn clear-ups have of necessity been neglected for the past two years. The baked clay that resulted from our recent summer of drought and high temperatures resisted all attempts to turn it with a spade, whilst, in the meantime, field mice from the adjoining farmer's land have filled themselves at the expense of my tulip and crocus bulbs.   Confronted by a depleted floral display when we returned home earlier this year and facing another in the Spring of 2026, I had therefore set myself the task of planting a thousand bulbs. The pro...

I have just returned from another enjoyable but exhausting trip to London to see our granddaughters. On this occasion, rather than driving, Mister E and I took the train and the journey proved to be the only part of our four nights away when I got the opportunity to sit down with a book. I had deliberately chosen something light and recommended to me on the basis that it was funny and astute, a little in the style of Jane Austen's humour but set in the late 1960's. I'm not at all sure that it completely lived up to that description but it had a certain wit and whimsicality that captivated me regardless. The book was 'Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont' by Elizabeth Taylor and it depicts the interaction between various long stay, elderly guests at a hotel on Cromwell Road in London. I was intrigued to turn the pages in circumstances where friends have often suggested that in our dotage it would be preferable to check into a good hotel rather than a care home. Mrs Palfrey w...

  Acquiring an electric vehicle has introduced me to various new concepts when it comes to driving.  'Range anxiety,' for instance, seems to be a phrase that crops up regularly. Progressing so suddenly from a hot, dry spring and summer into current conditions has fostered an epidemic of the condition and I've even heard tell of one poor lady who couldn't bear the stress and ended up part-exchanging her electric car after only a few months to return to a conventional petrol engine. Unfortunately, deploying heating, lighting and windscreen wipers throughout every journey has an inevitable impact on battery power and the decrease in miles per kwh as a consequence can be worrying. Somebody even described to me how they are donning extra layers and driving without heating in an effort to tweak as many miles as possible out of their charge. I'm lucky in that most of my driving is local and to be honest I'm not sure that I would have swapped to an electric car if it wa...

Ever since new research at Kings College , London suggested that visiting art galleries is good for our health, I seem to keep stumbling across commentary on the findings from that study. It concluded that viewing original art could lower markers within the body for a wide range of inflammatory conditions including heart disease, diabetes, stress and depression.  As somebody who is predisposed to a number of inflammatory conditions, my interest was piqued. Already aware of the benefits of  immersing oneself in nature and of exercise, how wonderful if visiting exhibitions can be added to the list of preventative healthcare measures for adoption in retirement. Some of my best days out in the last decade have certainly involved admiring the creativity of others which I always find generates an inner emotional response. Potentially it now seems feasible that instead of planning a visit to a gallery as a cultural indulgence, we should look upon it as a prescription for the wel...

  The highlight of my social calendar in the last few days was an Alpine Evening organised outside the gym where four large tepees were installed on the lawn, complete with a gondola carriage for photographs. Mulled wine was available on tap, whilst raclette and bratwurst were served to eat. By chance, the temperature had plummeted to below freezing and we were even treated to a flurry of snow from the sky above.  Like most events, it was of course the company of others present who really made it a success, although recognising some people in their winter coats and hats rather than lycra was a challenge in itself! Many of us suffered a healthy dose of nostalgia reminiscing about skiing trips past but not present. Concerned about weak knee and hip joints or maybe brittle bones, it really was the closest most are ever going to get to après ski going forward in retirement. Of course, I realised as long ago as 2013 that skiing wouldn't dominate our retirement planning and althoug...

During our recent visit to Crete , Mister E and I stayed in a small boutique hotel renowned for its gastronomic offering. Still on UK time, we reserved a table in the restaurant on our first night for somewhat late in the evening. So much so that as we entered the other diners were already in the process of leaving.  It was a relatively small room, perhaps a dozen tables, certainly no more.  Shortly after we sat down and the other guests departed, an obvious security guard entered and began to rearrange tables. He came and went, communicating by walkie talkie and indicating to the waiting staff that: "They say they won't be long." Obviously our interest was drawn and when suddenly we spotted three people running up the staircase, our eyes turned to the entrance. Shouldered on either side by two apparent minders was someone whom I can only describe as the most enlivened ball of nervous energy I have ever encountered.  "That's X," said Mister E. "No, it...