A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

Three months into my third year of retirement and it is good to realise just how far I have come. Reflecting on the period of time that has passed, I can now look  back and recognise three different phases. They are not separate or distinct; the boundary between them ebbs and flows but there is nevertheless an obvious progression. The early days, weeks and months were a time for healing and recovery. An opportunity to relax and to take the first steps towards a new healthier, fitter self. There may still be some way to go but the pattern has been set. Gradually and alongside those baby steps from enervation to vigour grew a sense of letting go. Like healing and recovery, it manifests itself on two levels: the physical and the mental. The clutter from both house and mind is being dissipated. Life is simpler; the habits of a working existence have been dropped. Activities and commitments have altered. Although there remains much to clear out especially ...

There's something about sunflowers and I have of course blogged about them before, here and here . Maybe it's the challenge of growing them or just the huge flower heads that appeal. Either way I am turning into a goofy idiot who enjoys staring and giggling at them. This year I have grown giant beasts and although they have been late to flower I can now report that they are finally in bloom atop what resemble mighty bean stalks almost twice my height. Little wonder I am transfixed and smiling. In the hope that you might participate in the enjoyment, I thought the one pictured was worth sharing.

The view around us at the moment is illustrative of the season; late summer mellowing into autumn and all around us the harvest coming home. Indeed in the last week I have dug up and stored  the remainder of the potato crop whilst continuing to pick beans, tomatoes, lettuce and spring onions not to mention copious buckets of apples. We've also been enjoying some glorious weather although perhaps it was a little premature to hear it being described as an Indian summer. Certainly the local farmers don't have any faith in such a prediction  because they were working through the night to get their cereal crops in. Indeed when we awoke and drew back the curtains this morning there was a haze that seemed to stretch for miles; a rural smog of harvest dust. Unfortunately it had also entered through the open bedroom windows to irritate eyes and nostrils. Peeping in the mirror after a sneezing fit, one eye was bloodshot and remains so. Whilst therefore I might have sough...

The natural world was thrown aside in favour of car chases and violence this week when we went to see "Jason Bourne," the newly released sequel to the four previous films based on Robert Ludlum's books. Matt Damon gave his all again returning to a role that this time smacked of Bond without the dress suits and one liners but which easily matched Shwarzenegger in Conan the Barbarian for testosterone and bare chests. I checked my watch only twice during the showing; a reputable indicator of either the film's entertainment value or Damon's pectoral muscles. When I returned home I switched on my PC to be greeted by the usual swathe of newsfeed advertising. One was a curious promotion that proclaimed: " Live longer by avoiding men."  I do fear this so-called intelligent advertising. Usually it is so stupid that it invariably pushes items that I have already ordered online. Sometimes however it seems to spookily read my thoughts or more likely a rec...

We returned from another week in the Lake District on Saturday, staying, as we always do, in a lodge in the Great Langdale valley. It has the wonderful advantage of being able to park the car and then not use it again and instead walk everywhere. We also enjoy a superb view of the Langdale Beck and the visiting wildlife from our accommodation. The problem with the Lake District National Park, however, is invariably the weather. All the wonderful scenery, the lakes and greenery, come, as one must expect, at the price of heavy rainfall. So, on this visit, torrential rain prior to and at the time of our arrival caused the River Brathay at the bottom of the valley to burst its banks and somewhat inconveniently run across the road. Following other vehicles like a sheep, I plunged into the moving torrent, made it to the other side but at the cost of what remain internally wet driving lights, although at least they are still working. Walking for the next two days was in...

So just as the youngest left England for Texas, one of our US cousins and his family flew in from Wisconsin. We played host for two nights of their trip and it was an absolute delight to meet the children who I'm sure thought we were another pair of boring old relations living in a strange country that can't spell simple words like flavour, puts dessert spoons above the table mat rather than to its side, drives on the wrong side of the road and calls jelly "jam". However, having as yet failed to complete the decluttering of our home (a job that remains on the retirement to do list) we were able to win them over by sorting out the youngest's old dolls' house, rekindling my own plans to renovate it and proving once again that parting with possessions is never easy. Still visitors staying over has proved a useful spur in finishing the makeover of the bathroom and cleaning corners of the house that probably haven't seen a duster for longer than I...