The hills are alive, apparently, with the Sound of Music.
So Mr B and I have finally booked a holiday to Do-Re-Mi country
and are busy planning all kinds of entertainment when we get there, not necessarily including the company of a lonely goat-herd but, then again, never say never...
is described as “the longest holiday of your life.” Don’t take my word for it, I read it in a special supplement called “Unlock Your Retirement Potential” in the Mail on Sunday. So it must be true. I do think it is rather a shame,
not to say a missed opportunity, that the Editor of the MoS didn’t think to consult www.retiringinstyle.net while planning this supplement. I think it would have opened his / her eyes to the realities
of Life After Work.
The Son And Only thinks that his father and I do not go on holiday enough. He keeps sending us “Last Minute Offers” for holiday
cruises, city breaks, escapades to far-away islands with accompanying emails saying “Why wouldn’t you?!” He was delighted when we told him, earlier this year, that we had finally booked something – only to have his hopes dashed when
he learnt that it wasn’t a 5-star luxury beach holiday but two days in Lewes, about half an hour’s drive away. He is starting to think we are a Hopeless Case but I dare say he won’t give up. And it’s good to know, isn’t it, that
he is happy for us to spend his inheritance?
As I am pretty sure I mentioned in an earlier blog, once you are retired some of the main reasons for needing a holiday
don’t apply anymore. No batteries to re-charge, no desperate desire to relax, no need to crave after a long lie-in. I like the idea of dedicating holidays in retirement to finding out more about places I have never visited – in this country
So, Austria it is. We’re not going until June, but then that’s the part of holidays which remains the same, whether retired or not –
the anticipation. The preparation! The planning!
I suggest to Mr B that maybe we should watch “The Sound of Music” again to re-acquaint ourselves with
the story, the music and – most importantly – the surroundings. Mr B doesn’t sound too keen. I may have to wait till next time I see the Youngest of the Darling Daughters. The Sound of Music used to be her all-time favourite film. She could
sing every single song, word-perfect. Her Edelweiss was exemplary.
The Youngest of the Darling Daughters is actually looking a little further afield for her family’s
Summer Holiday. In short, she fancies going On Safari. Not as in roughing it in a little tent and cooking over a camp-fire, you understand. The brochure she showed me had pictures of the kind of tents where the Queen of Sheba might have deigned to rest
her head. She is (as I have told you before) A Girl After My Own Heart. The Y of the DDs that is, not the Queen of Sheba. Though I’m sure the Q of S was a very, very nice person. Once you got to know her.
The Middle of the Darling Daughters, who has been practically everywhere, warns her younger sister that going on safari means rising very early in the morning and spending most of the day in
total silence, the better to see and appreciate the amazing wildlife. We all sit (in total silence) thinking about Our Hazel and how long she might be able to curb her irrepressible tongue. She'd be right at home with the Sound of Music - we're none of us
so sure about the Sound of Silence...
It seems the whole family is thinking about holidays. The Eldest of the Darling Daughters and her family will spend half-term
on the ski-slopes. The Middle of the Darling Daughters says that, once Little Champ is born, she and her fella may treat themselves to the idyllic honeymoon they never managed eight years ago.
And my boy? The one who keeps sending me holiday offers and urging me to fly off to exotic shores before it’s too late? Tomorrow he will be 40 (it’s OK, it’s not a secret. I don’t think.) A couple of
years ago, he and the Darling Daughter-In-Law were talking about a holiday in the Maldives to jointly celebrate their 40th birthdays. Then they changed their minds. And had a baby instead – our Morgan, who is the smiliest, happiest baby
you ever saw, a proper celebration of a baby.
No holiday could compare.