Category Archives: Retirement Musings

Retirement Musings

Journey to a New Life – Part Two (Local Life)

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One piece of advice that we were given, by a number of French and English people, was to integrate.? Don’t shut yourselves away behind your doors and only emerge to go shopping or back to England to visit.? This was never going to be an issue, as we’re not like that.? We revel in becoming part of local life.? We get to know the village inhabitants and try to be as visible as possible, without being over the top and a potential nuisance.? The most common question at the moment is ‘Vous ?tes a Boubers maintenant?’ (You are at Boubers now?)? meaning, ‘Are you here to stay?’? They are surprised, and relieved, to find we are resident.? Out of a population of around six hundred and twenty, about twenty homes are holiday buys.? There are also a number of other English residents and we are gradually meeting them.? It’s not uncommon for someone to knock on the door, greet you with ‘Hello!” and introduce themselves.? One couple even told us they knew how much we had paid for the property!? I have to admit to finding that a little disturbing.

So we followed the advice. As well as having some of our neighbours help with moving into our new home, in the first couple of days we popped down to the bar for a coffee and to show our faces. We discovered, at this point, that the only coffee served was caf? (espresso) and I was lucky to get a decaff! The people who run the caf? are (otherwise) very accommodating and patient. In fact, all the villagers are patient, which was most obvious when we first arrived and our French was about as accurate as a Flintlock. They just waited until something understandable came out or we looked pathetic and asked for help.

repasdesaines
Meal for Seniors.

Last week came the epitome of our acceptance. The mayor ? another very pleasant man ? had informed us of the special lunch that was taking place on Sunday 23rd. It was for the Over 65s in the village! There are, apparently, a number of such events for the ‘venerables’ throughout the year. As we had registered at the Mairie with our dates of birth, he knew Dave qualified and, as his wife, so did I. He made sure, on three separate occasions when we met in the street, that we wouldn’t forget. When we met him at the venue on the day, he was pleased to see us and said he would have come to get us if we hadn’t turned up. After all, he knows where we live.

In the event, it was a very pleasurable afternoon. I say afternoon; we started eating at about one o’clock and finally left at six! The owner of the bar/restaurant had provided the seven course (???) meal and his wife and daughter, along with another couple of women, served it. All the food was outrageously good and there were, thankfully, long gaps between courses. The whole thing was paid for by the ‘commune’.

The next village event is the Remembrance Day in the square on November 11th. France has a great respect and love for those who gave their lives for them and we intend to be there.

memorial
Village war memorial. Credit to Adele James for the photo.
Retirement Musings

Journey to a New Life – Part One

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It has been a long time since the last blog post, as access to the server was patchy at best, non-existent at worst.? Thank Orange France – another story for another day.

There have been many changes to family life in the last five months.? We have found, negotiated, bought and moved into a house in France.? This wasn’t the original intention but looking for the right house, at the right price, in the right area had been nine months of fruitless searching.? First, the market just seemed flat.? We had looked in ever increasing circle until we were even considering the West Country.? This would, however, have been at least a five hour drive – six, if you add an hour’s break which, at our age would be required – from any family and this was not an attractive prospect.? Even so, anywhere we could afford was in an isolated position or so small that we would have been uncomfortable.? And we had sold our house, so the clock was ticking.

mappasdecalais
Map of the Pas de Calais

So we ended up in France.? Not a big city like Paris or Rheims.? Not a wine region (although that would have been cool) but a small village of less than seven hundred people, nestling in the Pas de Calais.? It is still, very much, a farming/rural community but that doesn’t mean we will be keeping cows.? Chickens, perhaps, and the odd duck, but nothing large and potentially dangerous.? Or that needs milking.

So when we decided that we would make this move, we started looking at one storey ex-farmhouses (fermettes) – thinking ahead to the years of our dotage.? We looked at lots online and then actually viewed some, but they were all in worse condition than they appeared in the photos.? On top of that, because they were constructed using a certain type and length of tree trunk for the roof beams, they were only ever ‘so’ wide, with one room running into another or a corridor running the length of the building.? The first option made the rooms less private and the second made them smaller.

housefront
Front of the house

Then we saw Our House.? To begin with, it is three storeys, the top one being a loft conversion up to a possible thirteen years old. It was offered with six bedrooms, two bathrooms and a downstairs cloakroom, kitchen, salon (posh lounge) and salle (day to day lounge)/dining room.? It also has cellar and a range of outbuildings, as well as a half acre (about 2200 sq.m.) of garden. When we first saw the details it was way out of our range but, within a month, it had come down to a reasonable (for us) price and we agreed a deal with the owners.? So, here we are.

The house was actually built as the mayor’s house, by the mayor, in 1908.? His granddaughter lives next door in the house he built for his mother.? The house has quite a history and there are tantalisingly interesting stories abut the property that will be uncovered, I hope in due course.? We shall all have to wait for that.

 

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For all those who hate the SATs

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This is something I have told people over the years but I need to write it down, as I still don’t believe it.? It never loses relevance.

I was lucky enough to spend the last fourteen years of my working life in a small, private girls’ school. The first two years were as a Year 2 class teacher, during which I was responsible for teaching to the end of Key Stage 2 SATs.? The whole testing, marking and reporting back to parents merry-go-round was an annual ritual that no-one enjoyed.? These girls were six and seven years old but it was the way it was done.

The first year was difficult, as I had a huge range of abilities; there were, effectively, eighteen children and five ability groups.? The girls at the top were very bight and easy to teach whilst the ones at the other end were a real challenge.

The second year was equally taxing.? By the time we were a few weeks away from the tests, it became glaringly obvious just how stressed these children were.? I discussed it with my head teacher – a down-to-earth woman with very strong opinions – and she agreed to come and talk to the class, to try and calm them down a bit.? She did a sterling job and was just about to leave when she casually asked them to put up their hand if they had a tutor.? Two-thirds of? the class raised their hands.? We looked at each other and said nothing.? At the next break, I went to her office and she was genuinely shocked.? She told me she had no idea of the prevailing situation and was going to stop doing the Key Stage 1 SATs immediately.? We would still use them as a baseline assessment for moving into Key Stage 2 but it would be unofficial and there would be no detailed reporting back to parents.? Any comments would just form part of the end of year report.? The school governors at the time agreed.

It was a bold step.? As we were an Independent School, it was possible but the ludicrous situation of force-feeding children linguistic and mathematical information that they will probably never need – and certainly don’t need to know at seven or eleven years old – is barbaric.? I am actually ashamed to have helped perpetuate? this system for so long but it was my job and that was the price.

I once read that a famous author’s work was analysed and didn’t even make a Level 5.? What need does an eleven-year-old have to do so?

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That one colleague …

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I recently heard of a newly appointed member of an office staff, who resigned only a couple of weeks after starting work.? It wasn’t the workload or that the job didn’t match the advertised description.? It wasn’t the hours or the rate of pay.? It was one other person in the establishment, who made her life so awful in that short time that she couldn’t stay, regardless of any other good aspects of the job.

We’ve all been there.? We’ve all had a job that would have been perfect if not for that one colleague, who had an over-inflated sense of their own importance.? We’ve all felt the frustration of knowing what was the right thing to do but being thwarted at every turn by one person, who seemed to have sway over the final decision makers.? We’ve all seen more than one of our colleagues feeling the same way but equally impotent.? It’s not an easy situation to resolve and no blame should be laid at the feet of those too insecure or lacking in self-confidence to stand their ground.? It’s harder if the difficult person is longer established, even if your position is senior.

At some point, this situation will ex – or im – plode.? This will not be good for anyone at the point of ignition but it will ultimately clear the air.? It may result in someone leaving – it should be the catalyst, but that isn’t a given.? However, someone – the senior manager for preference – needs to be strong.

headinhands

Leaving work has opened many new horizons.? More time to do things during the week without rushing it all; more energy to do those things; less watching the clock and the calendar.? Above all, however, there is ‘not having to cope with work politics’.? In the most cordial and friendly of environments, there is always someone who thinks they can rule the roost, even if they aren’t the chief chicken.? I wish it was simple to take that stand, but it isn’t.? We can only hope that someone will have enough before it is too late.

 

Retirement Musings

“Is it really 10 o’clock?”

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Sitting at the breakfast table this morning, a thought came to me very suddenly; I am beginning to enjoy retirement.? It is now almost exactly six months since I walked out of the last school I will ever teach in and settled to a life of finding things to do that would fill the void.? It finally dawned – this ‘altered state’ – when Hubby said casually,

10-o-clock

“Is it really 10 o’clock?? Now you really must feel as though you’ve retired!”

I grinned, thought for a moment and agreed.? It took me a while.? At first, it had been in the back of my mind that I ought to be doing something.? I found myself? thinking ‘I would normally be doing [insert school-based activity] at this point’ or ‘I wonder if [insert school-based activity] is still going to happen this term’.? It suddenly became clear, this morning at the breakfast table, that I haven’t had one of those thoughts for a while now, probably since before Christmas.? I have lent a hand, from home, with some ‘computery stuff’ that I had initiated in the first place, but I don’t mind that.? If there’s one thing I do miss it’s creating resources for the classroom or for colleagues.? What I don’t miss is the speed at which some of these activities needed to be done or the possible fallout if they didn’t work first time!

frazzled

Although I still miss the camaraderie and my mad fellow teachers, I have now doffed the ‘member of the profession’ bit and I am settling into that very important new phase of my life.? I have heard from others that, after you retire, you suddenly find so much to do that you wonder how you ever managed to find the time to go to work.? I haven’t quite reached that stage … yet.? There are things that I do on a Tuesday and a Wednesday that are not shopping or housework.? I also have the time, each day, to make the bed (yes I have said it before but it’s very special to me!), empty and refill the dishwasher, do the washing AND drying on the same day and prepare the night’s dinner at any time during the day that I damned well please!? Going away for a couple of breaks in term time last year was my way of rebelling – snubbing my nose, if you like.? Now, I am settling into more of a routine and it fits well.

So, goodbye to waking up at 6.20 am because I have to, to wasting? half a day (at the very least) doing the shopping at the weekends because I don’t have the time (or energy) during the week, to arriving at 8 pm on Sunday night and remembering that very important something that I forgot to do for Monday – and hello to retirement.

don'thavetoretired

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Auld Lang Syne

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Spinning, once again, towards a new year makes you think.? Well, it does me, so I decided to review my 2015.? Boring, I hear you say.? Everyone does that.? Yes, they do, but I intend to focus on the positive – if I can.

Last January hove into view with my decision to retire firmly sealed in an envelope, ready to hand to my head teacher.? The next few months were a flurry of putting paperwork in order, reassigning jobs (which may not have always been strictly in my job spec but? I had been doing anyway) to other people and, of course, teaching.? Clearing my desk drawers was a challenge.? The most important question I had to ask myself was “Do I need this?”? My brain kept trying to substitute ‘want’ for ‘need’ but I won in the end.? I re-purposed some items by donating them to colleagues and simply disposed of most of the rest.? (There is one zip-top, plastic folder snuggling in a corner of the lounge that contains things I just had to bring home – mainly small items of stationery!)

There was ‘Poldark’, of course, about which I was in two minds, having seen the original, but enjoyed very much in the end.

In April we celebrated the 94th birthday of my crazy, wonderful dad.? Brilliant to still have him making those awful jokes and, sometimes, even more awful faces!? After a major operation and the addition of a pacemaker in the last few years, he is still going strong and is surprisingly independent for his age.

Dad proving that a splitting headache usually has a reason

Later, we had an election which, in my opinion, was a travesty.? No more on that – I was going to be positive!

On July 9th, 2015 (let it be recorded) I retired.? It was a smooth transition and I can honestly say that the only things I will miss are?? some great colleagues – who, I hope, will stay friends! – and imparting knowledge.? Two days after that I attending the wedding of my son and, in one, fell swoop, gained a daughter and a whole new family!

Start as you mean to go on

Now, ever since deciding that I would definitely retire people have been asking one question – what will you do?? My first answer has always been ‘Nothing’, followed by ‘take the opportunity to go on breaks in term time!’? Well, first I did a lot of not-planning and not-marking throughout what was still, for me, the summer holidays.? That was the only sign, at that point, that something was different.? In September, when I did not return to work, we visited friends in the East of England and the Midlands; in November, we took an overnight trip to France.

The view down into the lobby from the first floor of our lovely little hotel

This December we were lucky enough to share Christmas dinner with the best newly-married couple and had a wonderful, relaxing day with good food and good company.

So much for 2015.? Next year will prove to be a challenge, but more of that later.? May I wish all who have read any of my ramblings a very Happy, Healthy and Prosperous New Year.

Retirement Musings

A Christmas Story

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No – not that one.? I have been musing over the time of year (as we all have) and the fact that this is my first Christmas in over twenty years that I have not spent the last term in a school.? The Autumn Term in a primary school in the UK is like running the gauntlet – first hurdle is the Harvest Festival, followed by the lead up and execution (in the nicest possible way) of the Christmas celebrations.? Frazzled music teachers attempting to instil the words to a ridiculous number of carols into children aged five to eleven so that they can sing sweetly in front of their parents, at the one time of the year when some non-teaching adults actually set foot inside the building.? The furious making of Christmas cards for the littler ones to take home, with a smattering of other faith and simple ‘I love you’ cards to show sensitivity of the fact that not everyone nowadays, in a UK school, is Christian.? Year 6 teachers trying to keep the balance between continuing to prepare their classes for the SATs in May of the next (calendar) year, whilst helping them to learn and practise the readings for the telling of The Christmas Story – yes, that one!? The decision whether to send all your colleagues – the ones you see every day or few days – a card to tell them how much you hope they will enjoy the coming holiday season (emphasis on the word ‘holiday’!) – or put all the money you would have spent into an envelope and send it off to buy a goat for a family in Sudan.

That I do not, and will never, miss.? However, there are other aspects to Christmas in a primary school.? Our house will be noticeably shorter of wine this year – some parents are very generous!? Seriously though, the kids still love it so much that it rubs off on you.? The pride when they finally get the words to that carol right; the joy at decorating the classroom – I always used to give them almost free rein – with some guidance, of course – so the final effect, whatever it was, belonged to them; the anticipation of what they will find under the tree on Christmas morning; receiving cards from children you don’t even teach!

The Christmas holidays period is not just one to drive yourself mad thinking of yet another present for those elderly relatives that they will actually use.? Nor is it working out a menu that will leave you bloated and groaning after three hours of eating, just so that you can say what a fabulous dinner you had.? Or forcing sprouts down someone because – well – it’s Christmas!? A wise friend once asked why Brussel sprouts are traditional at a UK Christmas dinner.? I don’t know that she has yet received a satisfactory answer.

I will not miss the insanity that is a primary school Christmas but I will miss the camaraderie amongst the staff, the happiness amongst the children and the joy on the parents’ faces as they watched their little angels belt out ‘Silent Night’ and ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas’.? I invited myself to the junior school Christmas Celebration and loved it.? As an outsider.? Long may it continue.? Merry Christmas.

holly-berries

Retirement Musings

Things I do now that I am retired …

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It is now five months since I walked out of a classroom and knew I wouldn’t be returning to work the next term; almost the end of the longest term in the academic year.? Seven weeks of that time was really only the same as being on the summer break, so didn’t really impact at all.? Since then, however, I have had the time to realise that there are things I am aware of/can do now that I’m not gainfully employed.? Most of these revelations have come during the working week, for obvious reasons.

  1. I can make the bed whilst it is still morning.
  2. I sometimes wake up when it is already light(ish) outside.
  3. I can drive around without having to battle with the rush hours or school runs, if I choose my time carefully.
  4. The postman comes at different times of the day.
  5. I can drink tea in bed whilst others are starting work.

Sorry.