I have frequently written in these retirement blogs about the importance of having an identity in this phase of our lives. One that replaces our overly, worked-related identity that probably saw many of us through the middle years of our lives. As I’ve said this past identity can take a bit of replacing for some of us and the search continues.
Yes, that would be me. Over the last seven years I’ve worked hard to develop an identity that is as good as, or dare I say, even better than my working identity. My satisfaction with this challenge ebbs and flows. I do have to say that, right now, it’s not so much that it’s bad but rather that it is obscured by all the stuff that’s happening in my retirement life. I won’t bore you with repeating what I’ve written recently about this struggle. Look no further than the recent plate spinning blog.
But despite the metaphorical clouds rolling in, the search for a retirement identity goes on. One of my strangest manifestations is that occasionally I see myself as a farmer. From the time they’re having I can’t think why I should attempt to think of myself as a farmer and imagine that this would make me feel contented with my retirement lot.
I suppose there is, in my retirement, with the vineyard, a slight element of a son of the soil-ness about me. You know preparing the soil, planting things, nurturing them and watching them grow. It’s a noble challenge except, in my case, it’s all of the first but ending up with – watching them die. Hey ho.
Even so, it’s not entirely surprising that this identification should dominate from time to time. The area in which the vineyard is planted is largely agricultural. That’s how people make their living, small amounts of tourism excepted. I talk to these people, they help me out from time to time.
I have tried to buy more land so that I can extend the vineyard from half an acre to one acre. This would allow me to have 1,000 vines instead of the rather meagre 5 or 600 we currently own. That’s when they’re all alive of course, which is rare.
So I talk to them, the farmers not the vines. For example, the uncle of one chap does work for us and jolly helpful he is too. We like to think we put a tiny bit of money into the local economy. Tiny is the operative word but it is gladly given so not all oftcomers (outsiders) are bad.
My immediate neighbour who used to have both sheep and cows has pretty much given up with the cows although not entirely. So he wasn’t impressed with his lot (how much money he got for his milk) before this latest round of set-backs. For example, the trade deal with OZ. Good for them but you know when Bozza says it’s good for us, he’s lying – again. For my neighbour selling his lamb which is already in competition with New Zealand farmers will now have large imports of Australian lamb to contend with.
Of course this increasingly negative change of fortune is largely to do with Brexit which has meant the UK government is scrabbling around looking for make-up deals. And, in addition, it means a loss of subsidies upon which many (I agree not all) farmers are dependent for their existence. As I’m seeing myself as a pseudo farmer I make no apologies for this pro-farmer leaning in this retirement blog.
Another part of that deal seems to include more Aussie wine into the country. It’s not appeared as an issue on my WineGB members exchange but it may yet be to come. But as a non-commercial vineyard it doesn’t affect us all that much whereas what’s happening in the farming world is right next door.
The latest event is reading about farmers who are over 50 being offered a retirement deal. This to encourage them to sell / leave their farms to a younger generation. My neighbour is in this age bracket. I haven’t seen him yet to ask how he feels about this latest government ‘initiative’. At the same time I’m reading on my phone about farmers looking to technology to prevent / combat rural crims. A popular career choice for the criminal classes these days. It’s even being suggested that farmers along with CCTV cameras (which seems sensible on farm buildings) should wear bodycams which doesn’t seem sensible or possible, at all.
So, yes, despite all this I’m still trying to buy a bit more land. If I wanted to adopt an entirely selfish point of view about all this perhaps all this ill fortune for others might be good for me. They get fed up and say, you can buy the land, I’m fed up with it. But that would be quite despicable of me wouldn’t it?