When I look at what we’ve done over the last week I think I could come to like this pretirement. It’s a word I first heard last year on daytime TV last year, and one I’ve adopted for my current state of existence. I can’t be unemployed because I wasn’t employed, and I can’t be self-unemployed because the world isn’t ready for the term. Every time I use it people just look at me blankly. However, if you look it up in Google, there are other people using the term, so it may catch on.
One man defines it as “No rules. No fear. No steady form of income.” I like that, because it makes me sound like a bit of a rebel, rather than a middle-aged layabout. In truth it also defines my mode of self-employment, as the last 23 years have been hard work, interesting and challenging. They were meant to be lucrative, rewarding and successful, but you don’t always get what you want.
The coming week isn’t going to be so much fun. We have a day on the farm teaching people to do some of the jobs we used to do (there have been several emails on the subject, as they have realised getting rid of us not as easy as it seemed). As if that isn’t bad enough I have also been summoned to hospital to follow up on the pre-Christmas hospital visit.
I’m not keen on hospitals, as a visit almost always seems to involve removing my trousers in front of strangers. When I visited to have my arthritic finger examined it was a positive joy to sit there fully clothed and talk to a doctor. If only the trousers were the major problem! This week’s visit features a camera, and although I’m told it’s a good deal smaller than the one I use for bird photography, I’m still not keen on the idea.
That still leaves several days to fill in, but I’m not able to plan that far ahead. Every time I try to think about next week I get a mental picture of a camera. A large camera…