Pensioner

As I crash towards 55, I’m starting to get some interesting post. This arrived today from one of my pension providers.

I’m very grateful that my boss at the time helped me start my pension at the tender age of 21. At the time, I was more interested in next week rather than 40 odd years in the future. It felt like I was saving for a future I couldn’t imagine. Back then, my pension age was 60. Now it’s 67 before I’d get a State Pension (if it’ll even exist by the time I get there…).

Now I’m nearly at the stage where I can access my personal pension, it feels very grown up and rather surreal. Interestingly, it said in this leaflet says that from 2028, people’ll have to wait till their 57 before they can access their pension. I must have missed that change! Not sure why?

I’ve worked very hard in the last 34 years. I’ve put as much money as I can into my pension pot. I know I’m in a very fortunate position. But life is fleeting. So I’m going to enjoy my retirement. Whenever it actually starts….

Boomerang

I’ve been selling some clothes on Vinted. Nothing unusual about that. I had to use this automated post box (sure it has a more technical term but I’m going with that). The first time I printed out the postage label at home, stuck it to the bag, used the machine and it printed the exact same label for me. So I stuck them both on. It arrived so all good.

This time I thought I’d skip the home print bit and took it to the box. Only for it to have a hissy fit that I hadn’t printed the label. It practically ordered me home to print it. A bit frustrated, off home I headed. Printed out said label, stuck it on and then drove back to the automated post box.

Clearly it remembered my incompetence and opened a locker right in front of me. Resulting in a metal door to the forehead. I’m sure someone will be having a laugh at that on CCTV.

By the time I factor in the fuel, paper, ink, electricity and my time, I’m so glad I sold the t-shirt for £2.50. You have to laugh, you really do…

Stool sample

Nothing says you’re getting older than the array of tests you suddenly become eligible for. The latest one for me – bowel cancer. I’m all clear by the way. I got the results through today.

Must admit, I was slightly unnerved to receive a testing kit through the post. Even more unnerved having to smear my own poo on a stick and return it in the post.

Yes I know I’m used to shovelling poo. But horse poo is a bit different to my own. I had to read the instructions a few times to check I was doing it right. As someone who writes for a living, that was one job I wouldn’t want. Take a moment to feel for the poor copywriter having to sensitively but clearly explain what to do. Basically stick the stick in the shit and stick the shitty stick in the post. Or words to the effect of…

Post

It was an exciting post day today. And a bittersweet one. The wristbands and lorry passes arrived for the BRC ‘Team of 3’ Carleton Riding Club have entered at the Royal International Horse Show, Hickstead.

I’m excited for those who are competing there for the first time. I’m excited for those returning. I’m excited that our Riding Club gets to be there again this year. I’m sad that Buddy and I won’t be a part of it. Achieving that dream was so last year. I can’t remember if I mentioned it?!?!

I am the Team Manager for the four teams we have entered. So I have played a tiny part in it. I’m hoping to be there as well to cheer them all on. Hickstead will always be a special place for me. It’s a wonderful place and RI is a wonderful show.