Retirement

 A massive step in the Peelhill to Portknockie Project this week.  The working days are coming to an end.  In this my 50th year in the tax profession, the last 32 of which running my own tax consultancy, the end is nigh.  The letters to clients are out, and I enter my last week in the workplace.

Fifty years without a break, though it has been increasingly part time these last few years.  I guess I can trace my working life back further; back to those of the morning paper round, earning £1 per week, before shelf stacking in the supermarket at £1 per hour, and then, in October 1976, full time work.

As I begin to relax and to look ahead, those plans take a little more shape.  We've had the builders in all week, and they'll be back next week.  That all started with a slate falling from the roof in August last year.  Eventually we found someone prepared to come and have a look.  The critical, professional eye was quick to spot other works needing done.  Thus this past week it has been chimney stacks and skews getting attention and bit more than TLC.  Only the thickness of the walls has prevented water penetration over the years.

Next week it will be slates - the one that came down has been replaced and the ridge tiles reset, but there's another couple of dozen needing replaced; cracked, broken, or simply 'repaired' with sealant and glued down.  Then there's rough-casting to be repaired and sealed; new gutters and facias.

All the sort of thing that you might think would be hinted at in the Home Report, budgeted for.  But no.  Hey ho.

There is a parking space at the end of the yard, and some concreting and sealing has been done there, the possible source of water access under the building.  I'm of a mind to block out the parking access, which we rarely use, by moving the fence that separates that space from the yard, bring it all into what might loosely be termed a 'garden'.

One of the legacy issues in closing the office, is the retention of files and papers, client records, until such time as GDPR compliance dictates they have to be destroyed.  Where to put them?  Rent a lock-up, perhaps a container?  There are facilities nearby but I baulk at £150pm for five years.  So, that parking space...

One of our first additions at Portknockie was a bike shed, courtesy of Pads Sheds.  It is ideal, and a solid bit of bespoke timber construction.  We could do something similar, in the former parking space.  We have the space; and Pads Shed have the skills. With paper in storage for a lengthy period there would need to be insulation involved, perhaps a tin outer layer at least on the roof.

Once Kevin and James and the gang from McGregor Roofing have brought the house up to scratch, fit for whatever years we may have left, having got to the glories of the retirement stage; then I could be in touch with Lora and Pad to find a route to resolving the storage problems.  I reckon we might be crying out for the available space, once I can safely destroy all those old office files.

That retirement word seems to have infiltrated the old bones.  Knee surgery 25 or so years ago has always left a lingering weakness.  Just as I start to put work behind me, and cast an eye to extended time on the walking routes and cycle paths, so the knee flares up.  I suspect wear & tear, old age, perhaps arthritic, for I have had neither accident nor injury.  Isn't that the Law of Sod, more time imminent, and scarcely able to shuffle along, feart to turn a crank.

Oh well, there are other projects for this great retirement.  Ones that involve sitting down.  And patience.  And there's Peelhill to be addressed.  The Departure.  Scary.  Very scary.  30 years this May, memories.  And no shortage of accumulated clutter.  Plans for that anniversary have just been laid down.  Plans that may involve a puffin or two...