From my Substack diary, no.175: Saturday, 6th.June 2026

Day six of April showers – in June, except that today the sky is greyer for longer and the rain is heavier for longer. On the bright side, my leaky pond is full so the fish have more real-estate in which to frolic. I’m pretty sure that fish don’t actually frolic, but at the moment I am too lazy to refer to the thesaurus for a better word. And anyway, it’s mildly amusing.

I have no need to venture out today, one of the perks of being a retired person, so I shall amuse myself this morning with coffee, removing clothes from the washing machine and contemplating how to cook my breakfast eggs – scrambled, poached or boiled? Had you asked me five years ago just how exhilarating retirement mornings could be – I would probably have guessed they would be exactly as they are. Anything would be better than the pain and agony of working for a complete and utter see-you-next-Tuesday.

I only have to think about my last employer for a second to realise how blissful retirement is, even one as financially impoverished and outwardly dull as mine. My time is my own. If I want to read Marcus Aurelius or watch Three Colours Red, White and Blue in one session or just stare at the walls – I can. The only see-you-next-Tuesday I must concern myself with is my landlord. It seems that, even in retirement it is difficult to avoid sadists who take pleasure in exploiting others to garnish themselves in more wealth than they need – or even know what to do with!