Saturday, July 29
Today’s papers are full of pensions guff, the usual dire warnings of old age penury. When I qualified for my state pension last year I automatically assumed there’d be another twenty years of hijinks to pay for, then goodnight Vienna. To reassure myself I used one of those online longevity calculators which confirmed Gudgeon will expire at 87. I can live with that. Am told current 20-year-olds will probably work until they are 80 and live long enough to receive a birthday card from the monarch. That’s too long. It’s not the longevity per se but the years of ill health in the final stretch, sitting in a care home, dribbling down my bib. Needless to say, I was out on the moor during this morning’s downpour ticking off the miles. If I fail to fulfil expectations it won’t be for the want of trying.