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Showing posts with the label Facts

The Post

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In the news today are reports that Royal Mail, to help defray the losses it is making, wants to abolish postal deliveries on Saturdays. According to the BBC, the company is arguing that a delivery service created for 20 billion letters is not sustainable when it is only being required to deliver 7 billion.  I confess I still enjoy those rare occasions when I receive a handwritten letter and look back with nostalgia on the days of 2 deliveries a day, including one before I set off for work. Now, of course, we have e-mails and messaging services rendering the posting of correspondence almost obsolete. That said, I confess the sight of the post van in the street always arouses a surge of inner excitement.  Unfortunately it is invariably tempered by disappointment when we receive either nothing at all or a pile of junk mail that’s moved straight from floor to recycling bin. In the past week we had two such deliveries and I did actually sift through the first wondering if, a little like onl

The Best Christmas Present

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  I know that across the world there are so many communities that through war, natural disasters or lack of funding for infrastructure are going without what we in the West regard as basic necessities. Contaminated water alone brings so much illness and disease. The statistics are appalling. According to Water Aid’s website,  almost 1 in 10 people globally do not have access locally to clean water. Back at Chez Nous, retired life has had some luxury restored to it with a temporary connection from the new water pipe to the house. After laboratory testing early in January, we are confident that the Do Not Drink Notice will be revoked. The best Christmas present ever! It would be wonderful if we could share it with those who will continue without but, in the absence of some truly miraculous Christmas magic, I guess a charity donation must suffice. In the meantime my best wishes too for your very own Happy Christmas.

A State Pension Check

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  In a pique of organisation, I actually completed and submitted my tax return a few days ago. It avoided my usual rush before the 31st January deadline and is making me feel very smug indeed. Whilst accessing my online tax account, I thought I would take a peep at the National Insurance section and double-check that all is in order for payment of my state pension when I finally become entitled in a little over 4 months' time. Assurances by my financial advisor after I made a voluntary contribution at his suggestion and an official forecast several years ago suggested that I shall receive a full state pension at what has been an ever shifting qualification age.  I confess that I had never explored the record in much depth, relying instead on professional advice and the calculations undertaken by the government and sent to me by letter. With hindsight, I perhaps should have left things to rest there. However, when taking a glance (and breathing a sigh of relief that all still remain

Removal

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   I have been put on notice that my name will shortly be removed from the Solicitors' Register  unless I pay the paltry sum of £20 to cover administrative charges incurred by the Regulatory Authority in complying with data protection requirements. Since I retired I have remained on the roll albeit in a non-practising capacity, although and until now no fee had been levied for the privilege. At £20 the sum is nominal but frankly is there any point if I love retirement so much that I have no intention of ever returning to practice?  Apparently, so long as my name is on the roll I have the benefit of being able to vote in Law Society elections, something I have never done since retiring. I can also make use of the Law Society's premises in Chancery Lane which I have actually visited in retirement, but only once. I will continue to receive regular professional updates and the online copy of the professsion's magazine. I'd be lying if I said I'd never glanced at them in

Brevity

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  I know food inside packaging is shrinking as manufacturers try to convince us that the current round of price rises isn't as bad as we know it to be. But surely that shouldn't apply to books as well? "Brevity is the soul of wit," says Polonius in Shakespeare's Hamlet (an ironic point for a character who was somewhat verbose). Perhaps I'm just stumbling across particularly clever literature, but if a book length of 70 pages or so is gripping then, a little like the chocolates in the box on the supermarket shelf, I want more. Conversely if the writing is awful then you might think I've been relieved of the chore of turning too many pages. Since resolving not to stick with disappointing novels , whether it's a novella or trilogy I can, of course, just as easily ditch both at an early point. No, my complaint here is that for some curious reason the books I have been reading this year are much shorter than I had expected. I suppose that comes from taking

Keep Lifting

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  A US study published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine attracted widespread coverage today. Whilst my Fitbit congratulates me for exceeding 150 minutes of moderate physical activity a week, it seems that this accolade now comes with the ringing endorsement that coupling 2.5 hours of moderate to vigorous physical exercise with muscle strengthening potentially extends life. That's good, as three times a week I combine a strength class with Zumba or HIIT, with swimmming and additional Pilates sessions thrown in for good measure. 150 minutes? Far, far more but then I am making up for lost time spent in an office or lounging on a sofa. Obviously I'd like to think that muscular and aerobic activity could be a prominent feature of the whole of my retirement but I'm not entirely convinced by the prospect of continuing this routine into my eighties or beyond. Endorphins or not, the idea of moving from zimmer frame to press-ups is strangely fascinating. A definite challeng

Air Miles

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   Pre-pandemic, Mister E and I never quite counted the Emirates' air-miles accumulated from travelling to and from New Zealand on two occasions . Indeed, we assumed that having failed to book any further flights they would have lapsed but a couple of months ago received emails suggesting we had only a limited time left to make a booking with them. Use them or lose them, was the moral of the tale. Of course, that sparked some interest, quickly turning to disappointment when we discovered that when it comes to rewards the equivalent of twice around the world even in business class doesn't stretch to a free flight to the nearest town (not that there are any airports but you appreciate my drift). Truth be told malaise set in and they would probably have disappeared without trace until Mister E discovered that they could be exchanged for hotel nights in the UK. Hence, courtesy of air miles, we have now had two nights away to coincide with Mister E's birthday. Better still we ha

Imperial Connections

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    Just when you think those in charge couldn't get more ridiculous, today we learn that a benefit of Brexit is that we might want to return to Imperial measurements instead of those nasty European metric ones. Curiously a map of the world circulating online suggests that apart from the USA, Myanmar and Liberia every other country is fairly content with counting in tens and thousands. I guess those of us who are retired represent pretty much the last generations to have struggled at school adding and subtracting in £sd, as well as memorising all those weird and wonderful weights and measures. Unsurprisingly there doesn't seem to be an abundance of enthusiasm for our great leadership's latest contribution to the transformation of the country into a complete and utter laughing stock. Mr Johnson may very much want to see a Crown on his glass every time he toasts a departing member of staff, but he has overlooked once again that the rest of us don't get to party quite as o

Tested and Traced

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  Following my return home, I hadn't expected to be hounded by NHS Test and Trace. However, since Monday afternoon I have received e-mails, text messages and yesterday a telephone call. They all essentially say the same thing: You have tested positive for Covid and must isolate! Now it's not exactly likely that somebody recuperating from abdominal surgery with the added complication of an emergency admission to hospital with heart issues, particularly wants to go out and party. I can't deny, however, that a short walk in the cold sunshine or a socially distanced visitor or two might go down a treat.  However, and with time on my hands (surprise!), I thought I'd best check the actual legislation for what appears to be an outrageous situation bearing in mind that the medical consensus is that I do not have Covid when the swab taken for the contemporaneous PCR test was negative. The Health Protection (Coronavirus, Restrictions) (Self-Isolation) (England) Regulations 2020 a

Happy Hour

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  The first week of January can be a jolt back to the harsh world of reality, especially when you are working or have to return to school. Retirement is a little more gentle and I guess if we wanted to, we could keep up the Christmas partying (Covid aside) until the festive season comes all the way round again. Call me boring, if you wish, but I've slotted in some early morning fitness classes and have been back to the gym. After the guests, the food, the drink, the games, the conversation, it has been a most welcome return to routine. I'm not sure my muscles agree but there's a limit as to how long they can expect to be allowed to stagnate. This is after all retirement that I am exploring, not a sun lounger! Despite the grey skies and snowflakes today, I am feeling naturally happy and, dare I say it, optimistic! The days are getting longer and I can almost see without a light when I get up. At least I thought I could until I checked the thermometer on my way through the ha

Doomed!

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  Last week the media expressed an inexplicable degree of excitement in the findings of a study from Singapore that concluded housework increases cognitive function as well as physical health in the elderly. Darn, the justification for recruiting a home-help in retirement diminishes by the day. To  be fair, as we already know, exercise is good for you and housework, it seems, is just a little more of that, making up for any shortfalls in recreational activity. In fact on those rare occasions when I actually clean windows the Fitbit on my wrist automatically recognises it as swimming. The study, however, notes the meaningful nature of housework as a key component of daily living. As Mister E and I gambol through our dust strewn and untidy home in pursuit of more stimulating projects, could meaning be missing from our lives? Have the washing machine and vaccum cleaner released me to exercise in gym classes only to deprive me of purposeful and fulfilling action? I suspect not. There hav

Retracing Their Footsteps

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(Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images at Pixabay ) It's that time of year where our normal pattern in retirement had been to take a long distance trip to break up the winter and escape the dark nights. No such luck this year and just like 2020 it is beginning to feel as though we are once again adrift and floating lazily along. Of course if we really need the stimulation of travel, we could take a short trip here in the UK but with daylight hours reducing rapidly and the late autumnal weather as always unpredictable, it does not appeal. Instead, I am easing myself back to exercise classes with swimming and water aerobics, as well as Pilates and Yoga and snatching, so far as possible, a daily session in the garden trying to get everything to bed before the temperatures plummet below zero.  It's a strange November with nasturtiums, dianthus and pelargoniums still blooming not to mention tomatoes continuing to ripen in the unheated greenhouse. Meanwhile we are starting to see slight

At the Weekend

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  (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

In Flames

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  (Image by DeSa81 from Pixabay ) Recent reports of forest fires around the world have been distressing. Conflagrations that burn and burn have to be one of the worst human nightmares.  Closer to home, we have suffered our own blaze as the local television mast went up in flames yesterday depriving almost a million homes across the region of their radio and TV reception, "indefinitely" according to some reports. Obviously a Smart TV would be the answer but with the constraints on rural broadband I'm unsure how many people will be able to rely satisfactorily on this if everyone starts to stream at the same time. There are also many households (we being one of them) who don't even possess such technology although we do cast to our living room TV from a variety of other devices instead. Fortunately we are still at that stage of retirement where the television set is frequently silent as we find other diversions to distract and entertain us. Fast forward another 20 years

The North Wind Doth Blow

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  So the pandemic restrictions are eased to enable two households or up to 6 people to meet outdoors and what happens next? Just like the rhyme: the north wind doth blow and we shall have snow. Well it cetainly made for a chilly Easter weekend when we caught up with various parts of our family that we hadn't seen for months, braving the cold to sit in gardens in winter coats and mittens. Mister E even resurrected a fetching bright red Michelin Man-style jacket last worn trekking in the Himalayas. Chic indeed. I relied on a thermal vest and porridge for breakfast! This week, non-essential shops have opened again along with beer gardens and restaurants on the terrace, just in case we start to feel a little too cosy indoors. Nothing much has altered in our behaviour as yet though; "lockdown-lite" I think it's called. Meanwhile, and because of the hard overnight frosts, all the seeds I enthusiastically sowed last month are enjoying the B&B experience in my utility roo

A Long Week of Bewilderment

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    It's been a long, long week or at least that's how it feels to me.  It really is hard to believe that it was only on Monday that Prime Minister Johnson addressed the nation in order to explain the road out of lockdown. Of course, it's even harder to explain why his announcement has been followed by media hype and public adulation heralding the end of restrictions. I know I've been inhabiting another planet since retirement but I seriously didn't think I'd forgotten how to speak Earth's lingo. It's either that or some kind of communication error because I'm pretty sure the only concession the Government has made to the current Stay at Home Order to theoretically affect me is that, from 8th March, in addition to being able to exercise in a public space with one other person I can meet them for coffee or a picnic too. If that's getting back to normality, I really have transmorphed into some kind of alien creature. Also it might make a difference

Not Only But Also

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  Today was our big coronavirus vaccination day and it really was a fortuitous decision to have winter tyres on my car, although the first 100 metres uphill from our drive is always the worst part of the journey. Indeed crossing Barden Moor before dropping down into Leyburn was even rather pretty, despite gusty winds blowing snow onto the road in front of us. The vaccination process itself was quick, straight forward and well-organised. We were early but told to go in regardless and there was no queue, unless a slight wait at the door to the room where three of our local doctors were administering the inoculations counts. Indeed the longest part of the process seemed to be the questions asked of us followed by a brief explanation of the whys and wherefores, after which we were asked if we still wanted to proceed. Well it would have taken more than a rehearsed speech to put us off, especially after driving 20 miles to get there. Mind it was only afterwards we were handed an explanatory

Reading in a Pandemic

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  (Image by Engin Akyurt from Pixabay)  I honestly don't know why I'm allowing a pandemic to influence my reading material but I have. A doctor friend recommended "Pale Rider," by Laura Spinney so I thought I would give it a go. " She described it as a readable history of the 1918 flu epidemic," and was right. In light of the latest case figures and announcement of a new national lockdown, today is somewhat dispiriting, so I thought I'd share the angst. The book was published in 2017 and not only did I appreciate the many similarities to the current pandemic gripping the world but was horrified to learn that it may have killed up to 100 million people or 20% of the world's population at the time. Imagine that in the context of the coronavirus figures on the Worldometer today. Following on the heels of the First World War, in Europe the flu pandemic of 1918 is generally regarded as a postscript to the war when in fact it was clearly the largest huma

The Shrink

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(Image by WikimediaImages from Pixabay )  I am not writing about therapy today, despite the title to this blog entry. Instead and arising from that wellness appointment yesterday, came the discovery that sadly I really am shrinking. A year or so ago, I had hoped that regular Pilates sessions might have arrested the progress of compression of the vertebrae that it seems the human body inclines towards as it ages. Indeed, there was a point when I was convinced that I had stretched myself out so as to regain my full height and even held lofty ambitions of perhaps adding another inch to my stature.   I had suspicions, however, that my efforts were no longer proceeding as hoped, aware that I now regularly struggle to open top windows or the upper shelf of a kitchen cabinet, even on tiptoes. The nurse delivered the slapdown with an adjustment of my medical records and that was it, a whole inch removed from the database. I suppose if we are all in the same boat then everyone of a certain age

The Tiers of a Clown

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  (Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay ) It looks like I wasn't so far off the mark yesterday when I forecast a grey day and the imposition of further draconian measures under the tier system. With Tier 3 areas to the North and South of us, however, we are probably lucky to be escaping with Tier 2 restrictions even if they are harsher than the Lower Tier provisions we were obeying 3 weeks ago. As a consequence of the current national lockdown, local case numbers, below the average for the country anyway, do appear to have dropped further but we have been stepped up a tier. Never mind, we are in good company, when it seems that only if you are living on a small island or at the very tip of the South West  have you been bestowed a pass to Tier 1. That said, as the biggest English county by land area, it does seem a little silly to be tying us down because of transmissions in a seaside resort 50 miles or more away. However, I probably don't want to be putting forward that argument