I am moved by Lady Percy 's expression of love. CLICK HERE - see if you agree.
Otherwise my novels, short stories, verse, family, music, memories, vulgar interests, detestations,
responses, apologies. I hold posts to 300 words* having found less is better than more.
I re-comment on comments and re-re-re-comment on re-re-comments.
* One exception: short stories.

Saturday, 20 August 2016

Awake my soul and with the sun...

The digital clock winks 06.17; in eight minutes another day of retirement will begin. I doze on beyond 06.25, my usual getting-up time, to be wakened at 06.55 by rain on the roof, plinking on the metal roof vent.

Retirement has occupied 21 years of my lengthy life: getting up at will, comfortable about money, doing mostly what I want, wasting time on Solitaire. Writing as now, singing musical phrases repeatedly to get them right, devoting an hour a month to ordering wine.

Between April 1951 and August 1995 I messed about in journalism because it was all I ever wanted to do, all I was equipped to do. But on retirement I was glad to go. Last night I dreamed of Stockholm, a lovely city; my work took me to Sweden quite frequently. The dreamed detail of the city – static and dynamic – was pleasingly sharp and coherent. I wish I was there with VR but celebration looms, a moderately ambitious project in a remote part of what may soon be the dis-United Kingdom.

My slippers should be beneath the bedroom chair, ready to slide into without fuss. But the cleaner has slightly displaced them and this irritates the Hell out of me. I wear my heavy dressing gown suspecting it will be unnecessary. It is, I’m already sweating.

Downstairs I use a Supranettes wipe to remove eyelid guck; swig chilled fizzy water from the fridge. Gain old-age relief from peeing in the downstairs loo.

And now here I am, staring at the expensive Ilyama monitor, daydreaming in words. Apart from close family, nobody depends on me; I am not needed; I am retired and thus in a state of mild recklessness. I may do anything but will probably end up doing not much.


  1. Well, I have only managed 19 years of retirement so far, RR. The highlights have been trips to New Zealand and Australia and the arrival of 6 great grandchildren (5 girls and a boy, but not all at once). The lows have been the gradual falling apart of an over-used body. But that is par for the course, no doubt.

    Like you, I feel increasingly irrelevant as the world around me moves on its way. That's life (literally), I guess.

  2. Avus: Hey, reflect on the benefits of introspection; nourish the mind while it can still take nutrition. Observe and conclude; eschew "par for the course" and "that's life". Age doesn't necessarily preclude originality. Read The Journal Of A Disappointed Man (W. N. P. Barbellion) and consider what can be made out of the most unpromising material.

  3. I guess I'm not dependent on you, but I pull up ToneDeaf every day, eager to pocket another gem or two.

  4. MikeM: The other half of a civilised dialogue?