A Retirement Blog by Caree Risover

I had no idea that a wedding could prove so tiring. I don't know whether it's been a reaction to all the excitement and anticipation, repeatedly climbing spiral staircases or a couple of late nights even. Does age and retirement really now reduce me to the horizontal in return for a good day out? Whatever the cause, I have been in a state of utter exhaustion all week. If truth be told, I think I've fallen from the high shelf I was on a week ago and the only things keeping the adrenaline pumping are the memories as well as the expectant wait for sight of the official photographs. Mind, anxiety and apprehension may also have played a part. One branch of the family had to cancel their attendance after a nephew had tested positive for coronavirus only hours before they were due to set off. Then this week there have been reports of first an uncle of the bride and then his daughter testing positive too. Fortunately neither sounds as if they are overly ill and there's a good...

  You are going to have to indulge me here but the wedding took place on Saturday at Bolton Castle at Castle Bolton in Wensleydale. It was a wonderful celebration which stretched out from our arrival on Friday until our departure today. My family based itself in three log cabins at The Jonas Centre in Redmire and I can honestly say we haven't stopped laughing the whole time (except when we welled up with emotion) . The best thing, of course, is that not only have I become a mother-in-law but I have also aquired myself a daughter-in-law; how good is that? So from now on I can, of course, no longer refer to her in this blog as either the eldest's partner or even fiancée. I'm guessing Dilly from the acronym DIL would be appropriate, although some might consider it silly were I to find myself with a son-in-law in the future! The non-religious ceremony took place in the tower where Mary Queen of Scots lived when she was held captive there for 6 months in 1568. What she would hav...

  I enjoyed another one of retirement's new experiences on Tuesday when I travelled to London for a tattoo! I took my stick which proved really useful, especially with my injured leg in a knee brace, when one willing passenger on the train volunteered to swap seats so I could stretch out my leg and another on the tube gave up his seat for me. In fact somebody even offered to help me onto an escalator but to have accepted would really have been taking things too far. Of course you might be wondering why someone with an incapacitated knee would travel all the way to London for a tattoo. Let me just say this has been in my diary for several months and I wasn't prepared to miss the appointment for the world.  I had better clarify, however, that it was not my tattoo and it took place at a preliminary event forming part of the  celebrations leading up to the eldest's wedding. It is a traditional custom in his fiancee's culture for the bride to be decorated with henna in adva...

  You know when you see people walking with the assistance of a stick? I've just joined them!  I hope it's only a temporary situation but my right knee, which has endured a series of meniscus tears during my adulthood, buckled on Tuesday. It has been showing signs of degeneration and instability for a number of years but hasn't given way for a while now. That changed 5 days ago, since when I have been pretty well immobile.  Now I'm not asking for sympathy because in this instance the problem is sadly self inflicted. The one thing I haven't learnt to do yet in retirement is to accept that I need to be kinder to the various joints in my body, especially my knees. Instead the last few weeks have seen me permanently on my feet decorating or at the gym, throwing myself into exercise classes determined to strengthen my core and key muscle groups to protect myself from injury as I grow older. Some success that has been when I now have one leg that is barely weight-bearing!...

  (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...

  Action for Happiness has designated this month as Optimistic October. That certainly captured my interest, having been on a quest since retirement to enjoy a more optimistic outlook on life.  Yesterday the calendar told me to: "Be a realistic optimist. See life as it is but focus on what's good." I thought about that advice as I stepped onto my trusty bathroom scales and they indicated that I had dropped 3 stones in weight in a week. Now to be honest I have reached that stage of retirement where I might almost have jumped with joy, filled my bath with champagne and toasted the occasion in style. However, the words "be realistic," rang in my ears and I shrugged my shoulders, acknowledging that the scales were undoubtedly malfunctioning. I've owned them a longtime, they owe me nothing and so I decided to invest in a new set. I stepped on them tonight and, as I looked down at the reading, the words on the calendar today echoed around me: "Remind yoursel...

  Sunday was a beautiful day. Looking at the forecast, it could well have been the last summer's day as winter fast approaches. What better way to spend it though, than on the patio eating lunch outside with friends. In contrast the weather yesterday morning was demented, with the rain falling in torrents. At least I'd had the forethought to check the likely conditions a couple of days ago and a rendezvous with an old friend was hastily altered from a day walking in the countryside together to a trip to York. With the media's non-stop reporting of petrol shortages (1st world post Brexit problems that you seriously can't make up), it seemed better to travel by train. It appears that these days the Transpennine Express actually lives up to its name. Gone are the abysmal two carriages pulled by a diesel engine that I recall from those pre-Covid days and instead a five carriage high-speed train now dashes down the East Coast mainline. A day out by rail; normality really is ...