In October 1977, I started my first real job, working for the National Trust on a job creation scheme. I spent six months cutting away laurel undergrowth in a large pine forest on the hillside between Selworthy and Allerford in the Exmoor National Park. For eight hours a day, we hacked and we sawed and we built ten foot high raps of cut laurel, and I spent my weekly wages in the pubs of West Somerset and on keeping my motorbike on the road.
That was over 38 years ago, and that's quite a long time. Long enough to change career direction a few times and eventually to find a niche somewhere that was not too trying and that more than paid the bills. Yep, I know I'm lucky, and I always have been, on balance. I sometimes think I must have been built that way.
But anyway, here I am. Retirement. A little early, but retirement all the same.
To me that word - retirement - sounds like two things: old age and pottering about. So either I am older than I think, or I need to change my ideas. Or find a new word that means what I think the word "retirement" should mean when it describes me. I'll have a think about that one. And before I can potter about, there's some real work to do, renovating the house and fixing up the garden. A couple of years probably to get it all done properly.
But in any case, the day has finally come... and gone. Although technically I am still employed and on holiday until 13 April, I've had my last day in the office, handed back my mobile device and my security pass. That career that I've been working at these last 30 years or so, it's over. I am no longer Chris the MD, I'm just Chris again.
It's a wonderful feeling - a mix of freedom, relaxation and excitement. Let's see what happens next!
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