When Mike retired, and the younger Wilmott’s, including grandchildren, left us to go to their new home, it suddenly felt as if we had all the time in the world. I like things to be uncluttered. I don’t like fussy ornaments etc, (because I don’t like dusting much), but I’ve noticed that the place is beginning to look a little more lived in. Piles are appearing, I’m leaving things out. My knitting has been draped over the sofa for a couple of weeks now and usually I would be moaning about Mike’s books and papers left all over the kitchen table. Instead, I find myself thinking, ‘Oh, that’s alright, I’ve got the rest of my life to sort that out. I’ll wait until I feel like it!’
I’m most bemused by such a shift. The house does need sorting, clearing, organising, as we are now using it very differently, but it really feels as though the pressure is off. Is this perhaps what Mike’s retirement means for me?
Of course, the only real problem with this slightly more laid back approach to life is that I’m also being a bit lackadaisical about the writing too. Ah, well, you can’t have everything!
