A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

Today was  one of those days that did not start well, attributable to a memory lapse on the part of yours truly who could not remember where she had placed a voucher for afternoon tea. We had intended to use it on one of our regular trips to York, but in the end dashed off for our train conceding defeat after looking in all the obvious places and a few where I really could not have stored it. Of course, I finally had my Eureka moment half way there, but by then it was too late. On arrival we headed for the Art Gallery where the Aesthetica Contemporary Art Competition entries are being exhibited. Oh no, somebody had not done her homework thoroughly, and the gallery is closed on Tuesdays! Sometimes I really fear not so much that I am losing my cognitive skills but rather that retirement is making me so relaxed, I may as well be.  In any event we still had a wonderful wander around the city centre, enjoying lunch out and a visit to the National Railway Museum where

So the clocks went forward last night or did they? It would be easy to lose track when you are retired. Yesterday I failed to notice any warning in the newspaper and did not listen to the news either, essentially missing any advice about our change to British Summer Time. It has all been very different to life pre-retirement when there would have been an in-office discussion about this alteration to our daily cycle and perhaps a moan or two at losing a whole hour out of the weekend, with a six month wait before it is made up again in October. There would inevitably also be the Monday morning blues tomorrow when everyone feels tired as the effect on the body clock continues. In light of the lack of warnings,  when I awoke this morning I had a "what if" moment. What if we were mistaken and the clocks hadn't really changed, would I be late for anything important if I didn't alter my watch or incredibly early if I did? Now whereas in work, I might have

On Your Feet Britain is an event taking place on 24th April as a result of a partnership between the British Heart Foundation and the Get Britain Standing Campaign. Inactivity is one of the greatest challenges to health in Britain today and it seems the sedentary lifestyle of the country's office workers leads the way. Statistics suggest that 37% of men and 45% of women spend less than 30 minutes a day on their feet at work, with 50% eating their lunch at their desk. Yes it all sounds familiar. However it is reckoned that over 5 pounds in weight can be lost by standing up for an extra 30 minutes a day for a year. Goodness me, here in retirement I reckon that I have been standing up for at least an extra 2 hours a day, frequently more; will that equate to 20 pounds? If so, unfortunately not an awful lot has happened yet! Studies have linked heart disease, obesity, diabetes, high blood pressure, dementia and cancer to sedentary lifestyles. Forget the office, it's

There were not many signs of Spring today when Mister E and I did an 8 mile circular walk in the Yorkshire Dales, although at least the gorse was in bloom.  We had sunny spells interrupted by hailstorms, meaning that much of the time I was well huddled inside my coat. I recall some 11 months ago making a blog entry about walking my way to fitness and am pleased to record that things are definitely moving in the right direction. That said I am sure that, like yesterday, conditions today were probably more conducive to staying in with a good book than tramping along muddy tracks.  One of the books that I have been dipping in and out of lately is "17 Equations that Changed the World," by Ian Stewart. It is in essence a chronological account of mathematics and its role in the evolving world, where everything seems capable of being traced back to an appropriate mathematical equation. I wondered, therefore, whether it would be possible to write an equation id

One of the things I love about being retired is that when there is a nip in the air, you can simply curl up on the couch and bury yourself in a good paperback. Today I did just that, reading Emma Healey's debut novel "Elizabeth is Missing," in an afternoon. I thoroughly enjoyed it but do wonder whether in the future I ought not to be a little more circumspect about the content of the books I read.  I am not entirely sure that the tale of an aged lady, suffering from confusion and memory loss, as a result (we assume) of her advancing years, is an appropriate topic in retirement. That said the novel's protagonist who narrates the book in a confused manner, seems on the whole to be more than content in her befuddled state. However, it is a work of fiction. There are also moments when her frustration at the inability of others to understand her, spills over into aggression. At the moment I much prefer to live in the present rather than contemplate the poten

I received a telephone call the other night at 9pm from the dentist. Of course, I thought he only worked 9am until 5pm. In theory he does but, and I can guarantee that this sounds familiar to so many people, especially those who run their own businesses or have professional obligations: he was catching up with administration before he leaves on holiday. Oh dear, I remember those demonic days far too clearly.

Miss Scarlet   developed a squeak this week. It meant that every time I changed gear, she drove me demented. A little bit like those occasions when a member of your family develops an irritating cough. Of course, I had to get her tended to and visited the garage today for that purpose. Lubricant rather than cough medicine was applied and she now seems fit and well. Her delicate state, however, prompted me to realise that in retirement  I am yet to suffer from a round of sniffs and sneezes, not to mention a cough, cold or other virus. Whilst I have been fortunate in enjoying robust health, in the air conditioned atmosphere of the office it would have been surprising not to have succumbed to minor summer or winter bugs. Never sufficient to debilitate you, just enough to make going about your daily business a misery for a couple of days. Now in the isolated world of retirement, away from the daily bouts of handshaking and interview rooms with bacteria circulating all around,