So here I am sitting here again in the Garden Room on this grey, wet, Wednesday morning watching the queue of cars leaving the village for work. My head’s a little fuzzy after the odd pint or two of Carlsberg with Kev and the Tuesday night crew. This week along with the guitars and percussions we are in my local village pub in Tickton instead of the Cornerhouse in Beverley. I think this classes as part of the European Tour.


So I’m sitting here, just having my second cup of coffee, eating my hot toast with the butter dripping off and wondering should there be more, should I be in that queue, should I have been up at 5.00am like Kev to open his sandwich shop in Hessle Square..... And then I come to my senses and start planning for next week.


What’s happening next week? We are off to Barcelona again to see Alex, Dave and the grandkids that’s what. It’s six weeks since our last visit and since we came back we have been very busy with jobs around the house and getting the garden ready to be re-designed. We need a rest, as well as the odd sherbet down the bordega. But there is always a drawback!




The last few days before we travel are always very stressful, although after forty odd years of living with Christine I don’t really know why I let it stress me but I do. She has never been any different so you would think I would be used to her by now but I’m not. The stress breaks down into two areas, shopping and packing.


Now shopping is hobby for Christine, it’s really more than that it’s a way of life, show her John Lewis’ and she’s gone for hours but what I don’t understand is what does she do with the things she buys. Three separate trips to the Bahamas last year, nearly five months in total and for each trip she ‘has nothing to wear’ although we went shopping before each trip. Before each of our last two trips to Barcelona we have been shopping because she ‘has nothing to wear’ and here we are again going to Barcelona next week and where do you think we are going on Thursday? Shopping, correct, because she ‘has nothing to wear’.


But she has always been the same, shopping is a passion and if it’s a bargain even better. We like bargains now we are pensioners. So when the offer of a free coffee and a free plant comes through the door from the local garden centre it seems to good to be true, no need to buy anything it says so off Christine goes gets her free coffee, gets her free plant ..........and then buys a large planter full of various plants to sit alongside the arbour. “Couldn’t not buy something” she says “they had just given me a free coffee and plant”. She is every shop owners ideal customer.


So it’s Thursday in York shopping which then creates another issue, more clothes to pack. Christine, who is reading this over my shoulder, wants me to mention at this point that I also do some shopping and it isn’t only her but I really don’t think that three T-shirts from George at Asda counts as shopping, not by her standards anyway, so back to packing.


Christine knows the weight limit, but I just know that come Sunday night her case will be overweight and there will be an overflow of items laid out on the bed which haven’t yet made the case. This is when she will be looking at my four T-shirts and two pair of shorts to see if I can leave anything at home. It happens on every trip, we get her case down to weight, some of things are in my case, some more are in the hand luggage which is now almost at it’s limit and some things have to left behind.


I also know that the things left behind will be the ones she wants and it will be my fault they have had to be left. It’s always the same.


That only leaves one further problem, the Insurance Company. Should I ring them and get a claim form before we go or simply give them warning that a claim form will be required when we get back. Two trips so far to Barcelona and two claims, Christine in casualty after a fall down stairs and Christine having her handbag stolen. But just maybe the answer is to go by myself...... no shopping, no packing, no insurance ..... Life can’t be that simple, can it? Not really, but anyway the stress only lasts till we get there, and then it’s down the bordega and the worlds OK again.

Just over a week till our next trip to Barcelona, Alex has a three week or so slot available in her booking system. They are now very busy with a constant stream of visitors popping over. We are fitted between Chris from Beverley who is on his second visit and Sean and Maxine from York. But mustn’t grumble this will be our third trip since January and one we are really looking forward to.


Since we came home about six weeks ago we have removed a large Ivy hedge, repaired a chunk of fencing, painted all the outside brickwork of the cottage and glossed a few windows. And that’s not to mention the hi-tech curtain rail in the garden room, the second hand bureau for the hall, the old sewing machine and sewing box for the garden room or the mirror and various paintings around the cottage or even the curtains Christine has made for the garden room and the hall. And on top of all that we have sorted out the contents of two sheds, dismantled one of them and re-located it at the bottom of the garden. And even then I have probably fogotten something, I am a pensioner you know.


The whole point of bringing this up is to say we are shattered, we need a rest, I hope Alex and Dave don’t have anything lined up except coffee at the J.A.S. Cafe, Menu del Dio at any of the local restaurants and a few sherbets down the Bodequeta Del Mar because that’s about all we can manage at the moment.


The thing is we have both retired yet we are working six or seven hours every day to keep on top of the jobs we have to do around the house. What I can’t understand is how we used to do all these jobs when we were at work all week, I know that Parkinson’s Law exists but we are not just filling time we are working really hard. As surprising as it may seem to anyone who knows her Christine was yesterday using a hammer and a saw. The good news is that she has still the same number of fingers and none of them were flattened.


As I have said before retirement is supposed to be about taking life easy, that’s why I left work, to have an easier life. So here I am sitting in the garden room thinking about an average week at work, probably drive eight hundred miles between Beverley, Liverpool, Birmingham, Nottingham, Leicester and London visit lots of depots, meet many people and attend a few meetings. On top of that there were sausage rolls and sandwiches in the middle lane of various motorways, many buffets and always a hotel on the night.


Decisions to be made. Steak or fish, chips or mash, pudding or cheese, wine or Becks, probably both and then bacon, poached egg and mushrooms with maybe a sausage on the side for breakfast before another day starts.


Having been away from it for eighteen months I can see that certain parts of my previous life still have an appeal. No wall paper paste around in those days. So can anyone explain how I thought this introduction to hard labour would be better. “Easy” says Christine who just happens to be looking over my shoulder “you can spend it all with me now; what more can you want?”


I’m just off to the shed to put up some shelving. Thanks god it’s Friday, not because it’s the end of the week but because it’s no cook day, that means fish and chips for tea - can’t be all bad.

So what was the big event of last week in Beverley? The opening of Marks & Spencer’s new Simply Food store that’s what. Now I don’t know if that’s a sad indictment of the level of excitement in Beverley as a whole or just the fact that us pensioners don’t get out a lot.


It opened on Friday morning at 10am whilst anyone with a purpose in life is busy beavering away at work but we are here listening to the countdown to the opening. That’s right there is a countdown followed by a crush to get in. As the man behind me said “It’s a shop, why all the fuss” and of course the fuss was because we all turned up. There would have been no countdown had no one turned up, the traffic wouldn’t have been stopped nor the pedestrian precinct blocked by a mass of pensioners and mothers with prams. But it's Friday morning, we don't have a job to keep us busy so this passes as entertainment.


Naturally me being my normal self didn’t much care about a new M&S Simply Food store, I was only there for the free Oudinot Champagne and perhaps the odd freebie food sample. Christine decided it was too early in the morning for champagne so I had her glass and then quickly established that if I passed the free champagne counter and then turned left passed the pork pies and then left again passed the sausage rolls I could join the queue again for another champagne having had a pork pie and sausage roll on the way.


It’s 10am in the morning and I have unlimited access to champagne, sausage rolls and pork pies, what more do I want. Well some of the treacle tart and scones being offered wouldn’t go amiss so I had to change my route which took me a little longer to get back to the champagne but you can’t have everything.


Now just when I thought I was cleverer than the average visitor to the new store I realised, just as I was lining up for my fourth glass that the guy behind me was the guy outside grumbling about it being only a shop and he claimed he was on his fifth but hadn’t had any treacle tart. It was noticeable that he had now stopped grumbling as he headed off in the direction of the treacle tart balancing yet another glass of champagne.


So sitting in the Cafe Revive in M&S, with a coffee and a yet another final glass of champagne I wonder what has happened to Christine and realise that as well as food they have a clothes department she could be some time yet.


I settle down with my coffee, stuffed with pork pie and sausage roll and contemplate it’s been a while since I was last over the limit for driving before midday. Maybe the last time would have been whilst at work and then it would have been from the drink the night before.




Who say’s life as a pensioner is dull. Too much to drink before lunch time, can’t be bad, so much for the no drink till after the school bus rule.

It’s been very nostalgic so far this week. There I am washing paint brushes again as normal when there is a knock on the back door. Christine opens the door to find George on the doorstep. Apart from one brief meeting in Beverley about seven years ago we hadn’t seen George for nearly forty years.


He brings his wife, Christine in and we have a very good couple of hours reminiscing about how we grew up as kids on the same ten-foot and he fills me in on lots of ‘what’s happened to whom’ type of things from the ‘gang’ of the fifties. When he leaves we make tentative arrangements to keep in touch and I feel sure I will get down to the Star in Willerby some Wednesday night for a re-union with a few of them of who still meet each week for a game of dominoes.


Then last Tuesday Kev rings me to say that the Cornerhouse guys are meeting in Hull this week as one of the guys who has not been well is out this week so I’m off to the Manor Club. Now just to keep the nostalgia going Manor Club is at the top of the ten-foot George and I grew up in so on my way there I decide to take a drive down our old street and pass the house where I grew up.


I know things have to change but I remember the street as a football pitch with jackets for goal posts and perhaps a dozen kids, maybe more playing football but now all there are is cars parked half on the pavement on both sides of the street. Looking at it now it is a good job computer games were invented because the kids can’t play outside on streets like this.


When I get to the club I mention to Kev about living round the corner and the old gang still meeting every week after all these years, he of course sees nothing unusual about this as this same crowd has been meeting every week for years, probably not for forty years as they aren’t quite my age yet but looking around they could be getting near..........!


Mind you the Manor Club was a good alternative to the Cornerhouse this week, two ladies darts teams and a big screen to watch Chelsea humiliated, but best of all the supper laid on for the darts players is open to everyone when they have finished. So that’s plenty of chips, sausages, curry and bread and butter to share, not that I had any as I had had my lentil and bean casserole for tea served with an excess of vegetables, delicious! Christine is determined we have a long and healthy retirement.


Well maybe I had just the odd chip butty with perhaps a sausage but no curry because that had all gone before I got back for seconds but I did notice Dom was still eating after everyone else had finished with the odd bit of curry sauce showing at the corner of his mouth.


So couple all that with me still trying to clear out the sheds and Christine saying “no we can’t get rid of that” as I bring out the little wooden cart that Amber and Joe our grand kids both used when first learning to walk. The same wooden cart that Amber used to move all the heavy York Stone paving stone by stone to the end of the garden before we started the extension. Some of these stones must have been nearly as heavy as herself and I remember the next two days she struggled to move her arms but she was a great help. Joe, the grandson on the other hand, whilst still a big help was obviously taking lessons from his dad in how to avoid any physical work at all and busied himself with grandma snipping and pruning.


The large petrol lawnmower also reached the end of its life. This is the one that Dave bought many years ago when they lived in York, and it had to be a good one because his Dad was getting on a bit in years and wouldn’t have been able to cut the grass with a small push and pull one. Dave naturally would not be able to cut the grass himself having made an art of 'being able to do nothing' in the house or garden maintenance department. So with no lawnmower any more we need to decide if we need a lawn in our revamped garden or go for the large patio and plastic grass. This seems a good idea to me but I am guessing I will be out looking for a new mower quite soon.


So there you have it. Nostalgia, is it what it used to be? Must get on we are having people for dinner this week end and Christine’s pink Black Book has lots of entries with my name next to them. I might just get back to the sheds, lots of photographs from years ago to go through

Can you believe the contents of a woman’s handbag? It was brought home once again to me by Christine having her handbag stolen in Barcelona. Not only are the handbags full of everything but the kitchen sink, nothing can be found. How long have you stood at the front door waiting while she rifles through her bag trying to find the house keys even though she has just spent twenty minutes sitting in the passenger seat of the car on the way home. How infuriating is it when the woman in front at the check out till only starts to rummage for her purse when told how much she owes. Men of course are different, we are more organised; we have the house keys ready; we have the money in our hand before the check out persons starts on our groceries; we are better at keeping things in order, except that is for ......... sheds.


We have been ticking off the jobs in Christine’s pink Black Book which I am pleased to say now seems a permanent part of her life. Fix the fence, done. Paint the outside brickwork, done. Curtain rails for the Garden Room, Curtains for the hall and Breakfast Room, lop trees, move plants all done. So next on her list is a separate project of ‘Reclaim the Bottom Garden’, which is in a few stages as this is a major job. Nice to see that she has it broken down in the Black Book into it’s various parts and I thought I was wasting my time explaining the only way to eat an elephant was a bite at a time, maybe she could make a project manager yet. So the first part of the project is to ‘sort out’ my two sheds before moving one of them to a new location down the garden.


Can you believe the stuff we save, it makes the contents of Christine’s handbag look insignificant. The first problem is when I move enough things to get through the door of the sheds I am then confronted by boxes, bags, tables, cupboards all overflowing with everything I have just thrown in there over the past year. Why would I want to keep the off cuts of wood that fill the rafters or the rusty hinges or bent brackets, what do I think I am going to with them? Until I have just uncovered them I didn’t even know I had them. There are bin liners full of clothes, are we really going to wear these again after having been at least a year in the shed, mind you seeing as Christine is bound to having nothing suitable to wear for our next trip to Barcelona maybe I should take a close look at these.


There are toys from when the grandkids were toddlers that we are never going to use again plus boxes of pottery, ornaments, glasses etc that we will never use but are deemed too good to throw away. So that’s were the next problem comes in. When these boxes were put in the shed the theory was that we would have a ‘car boot’ sale but that of course has never happened although now we are retired Christine is saying we have time and should do one.


So to get an idea of how these things work and what type of stuff is sold we go off to one in Beverley on Sunday and what do you know we came home with a mirror. We are trying to get rid of our surplus stuff and we buy more! But to be fair the mirror frame will be painted by Christine and the glass antiqued and it will look good as room dressings in Joe’s room. The decision is taken to have a ‘car boot’ so I start to get together everything saleable out of the sheds.


The next problem is that as fast as I am getting candle sticks, wind chimes, jugs and other ornaments out of the sheds I can hear Christine saying things like “I forgot we had that”, “that will look nice in the new kitchen”, “just right for the garden room” so what isn’t going back in house is being dotted around the garden and the pile of stuff for the ‘car boot’ is getting smaller.


But never mind I am sure Christine will never have a car boot anyway and if all the stuff she likes goes back in the house a trip to the skip and charity shop will get rid of the rest and my sheds will be clear. The first part of the project to reclaim the bottom garden will be complete and I will just need to ensure that Christine doesn’t get my sheds in that sort of state again.