I’m writing this retirement blog at a point when we’re roughly half way through our three week Scottish trip. You might describe this as the time of maximum distance. We’re not quite at the very top but it’s close. We’re in a place called Scourie which, as hopefully you can see from the photos, is ridiculously scenic. As it says, that’s our caravan in the distance. Once again, like the Laide campsite, from where we drove yesterday, there’s very little between our caravan and the Atlantic Ocean* if that is what the water out there is. And, as I write this, the sun is actually shining (I dispatched Mrs Summerhouse outside to get the photos as proof).
Wow, that’s some achievement after yesterday when it rained solidly all the way here (which considering we were driving through some incredibly beautiful scenery and you couldn’t see it, was annoying. That said I wouldn’t have been able to see it anyway as the demands of pulling the caravan meant maximum concentration on the road and not the view beyond). Then it rained even harder when we got here. Doing all the irritating tasks associated with setting up the caravan – connecting, electricity, turning on gas, filling water barrel, connecting grey water outlet, lowering stabilisers etc. – was made even more irritating by the rain and, an added bonus, for the first time – the little bitey things.
So pretty much maximum distance geographically but that’s not quite the point of this blog, it’s the psychological distance I’m interested in. I have always / often used holidays as an opportunity to stand back from our life back home and review how it’s been and where it’s going. I find this trip no different even though now, of course, it’s in a retirement context rather than a work one. One night in the caravan I found myself writing down what I thought were the key questions to ask about my retirement after five years and a distance of approximately 500 miles.
I’ve always been fond of a good question, as a psychologist I used to believe that it was one of my main weapons in helping people solve their problems. That’s a bit simplistic but it will do for now. So I did one of those brainstorm type things about our retirement, as we sat in our tin can. I wrote down in my diary, (where else?), any and all words that came into my head without any judgement as to their quality or relevance and then turned them into questions. I haven’t got round to actually answering the questions yet and I’ve no clear idea of how I will do this when I do – ratings out of 10, qualitative answers or words to you and me, I’m not sure. Maybe by the end of this blog I, and you, will know but sometimes it feels enough just to pose the questions.
The words turned into questions in no order of importance just as they came to my brain were as follows :
Is our retirement sensible? Is it balanced? Does it have variety? Are the negatives (over which we have control) removed? Do we have the correct positives in place? Are we secure? Is our retirement life under control (as far as possible)? Is it enjoyable? Do we have the right expectations of retirement? Do we lead a generous retirement?
Looking at this list now, a couple of days after I wrote them, they seem like a pretty weird set of questions but then I always believed that spontaneity without judgement encouraged more in the way of honest insights into one’s life. Maybe original is a better way to describe them. I don’t actually like some of the questions now but I feel compelled to stick with them and more to the point, to try and answer them.
We’re going to go out now to visit a place we stayed at more than forty years ago, it’s called Sheigra (if you have a good map you may be able to find it). This was when we were young and crazy, as opposed to old and insane, we stayed in a static caravan with two friends (no dogs then) for two weeks. It will be interesting to see what we make of it now. I’ll just say it was unchanged from what we could remember but couldn’t find the static caravan.
So back to those questions. Is our retirement sensible? And straightaway I hit a dilemma because the answer is, as it will probably be for a number of questions, mostly. Which I suppose is the best I can hope for. On a ten point scale I’d give it an 8, so that’s pretty good and it’s not a 10 because there are still aspects of our retirement that are a bit stressful like the vineyard, our houses, trying to play jazz, readership figures for this blog, my health, the well-being of others. In fact when I write it like that I don’t think it merits an 8. The other issue is that some of the questions are going to feel repetitive. Like removing the negatives and retirement being under control as they relate to this question.
Looking at the stressors above I’d say the vineyard is a worry right now because of the grapes ripening, getting them picked and wine made. But that’s OK, the price to be paid for having a vineyard in a good year, even a small one. We’re trying to sell the Derbyshire cottage, it’s just gone on the market so hopefully that will reduce that area of stress although not until it sells and we know from selling the Pateley cottage that, if it can be difficult, it will be. But we’re doing what we need to do in that area. Trying to play jazz, the jury very much out on this. At the moment the balance is wrong – too much stress and not enough pleasure and I’m giving serious thought to giving it up. This decision is definitely in the pending tray.
Blog readership figures vary but I guess they’re pretty much OK, I don’t really know because even after 5 years this is an area unknown to me. My decision to write only one a week was a sensible one even though, on this trip, it’s two a week. My health? I’m doing what I can without having what I would define as a miserable life. Sensible eating, moderate exercise, that kind of thing. Weight OK and sugar levels not bad although not as good as they might be, so this area is probably a 7. The well-being of others continues to be a concern, as for so many of us, but this is an area beyond our control so I resort to that old stress management cliché – what cannot be cured must be endured.
And what do you know, I’m already well over my 1,000 word limit so the other questions will have to wait for another time. Retirement summary, doing OK, but could always be a bit better. The old ‘room for improvement/ could do better’ so often seen on my report card. I’ve come a long way.
*A fact that will cause us some difficulty but more of that probably in next blog.
