- Me - 57
- Jo - 55
- Lucy - 33
- Gary - 31
- Kelly - 27
- Ross - 23
Not to forget:
- Cade - 6
- Braeden - 2
All the adults are busy working - no more F/T education. At this time, there were no thoughts either of retirement - although it wouldn't be too long before Jo jumped ship. By the end of the year, little baby Luca would join us - but first we had to meet Carole, who was then a Corthorn.
I think it may have been a Friday night that Gary brought Carole round to meet us - I seem to recall coming in from the pub:
We got on well - thankfully! In those days, Carole was living in a small house in Portlethen, which was fine for her - and would have been OK for her and Gary - but with Luca on the way, they would soon have to think about moving to somewhere with a bit more room.
We got on well - thankfully! In those days, Carole was living in a small house in Portlethen, which was fine for her - and would have been OK for her and Gary - but with Luca on the way, they would soon have to think about moving to somewhere with a bit more room.
My pension funds were starting to build up again. I'd had a very good final salary scheme in place until the early part of the decade, but the escalating costs of these arrangements put a strain on the business - and was causing the banks a little concern too. The pension scheme was in the name of the most vulnerable part of the group as well - Scofish Ltd., which as alluded to in earlier postings, began to really struggle by the middle of the decade.
A decision had been made to abandon the costly final salary scheme and replace it with a money purchase scheme, with the employer putting in what was, on the face of it, a very generous 27% of salary annually. This high rate was set to compensate partly for agreeing to abolish the final salary scheme. The cost of this would be spread over the rest of the group, so this would also take a bit of the strain off Scofish's finances.
As it happened, early in 2006, Scofish went in to Administration, so the earlier change to the pension arrangements was proved to be the right thing to do. With the benefit of hindsight, however, from a personal point, it would have been better for me to have had the benefits frozen up to the time of the change and start the new arrangements from then onwards, rather than wind the scheme up completely and start again, as happened. That way, I would have had about 20 years of benefits under final salary arrangements "in the bag".
Not that I was contemplating retirement at this stage. Although a lot of my friends had retired - and many of them urged me to as well - I was still enjoying work, where by now I had a tremendous amount of freedom to come and go as I wished. I had always said it was about lifestyle, not just money. I had worked for some pretty large companies earlier in my career - Distillers, ITT & Thorn EMI notably, respectively the largest employers in Scotland, the UK and the World at the time - but the big company corporate life was not for me - I was much happier in the smaller, family owned business where I knew who made the big decisions - plus I had a better chance of influencing them too.
I had roughly figured that, if I worked through to my mid 60's, I would be able to amass a sufficiently large pension pot to be able to retire - although I hadn't reckoned for the worldwide financial collapse in 2008 - that set me back a bit.
I've explained earlier about the collapse of Scofish and how the aftermath chewed up a huge amount of my time in 2006, but, thankfully, the rest of the group was trading well and didn't need as much of my time - plus it could afford the occasional extravagance as well - such as buying corporate seats at Old Trafford, the home of Manchester United. To be fair, it was done with the best possible business intentions - to entertain our major customers. Some kind of hospitality was kind of expected and whilst I'm not exactly a fan of over-the-top entertaining, this was within reasonable limits.
It's a debate I've often had with friends and colleagues - where do you draw the line when it comes to entertaining? Personally, I was always happy to accept the occasional invitation to a golf outing or a football match, but, for me, the dividing line came with anything that involved an overnight stay - I was always on alert whenever this was offered - particularly to my colleagues, one of whom once got an invitation to be flown down to Monaco for the Grand Prix weekend with 4 nights' accommodation at a hugely expensive hotel thrown in, plus premier tickets for the race and practice days - and all of this was from a supplier that we'd hardly ever done business with. Needless to say, I objected to him going - but he couldn't understand why. Events I subsequently uncovered early in 2006 explained his lack of morality to me in full.
Anyway, back to Old Trafford. The premier home matches against the top 4 teams were reserved for the top customers - fair enough. Initially, there was a plan to make the season tickets self-funding by selling the seats to the other matches to business contacts, staff etc. I was fortunate enough to attend both in a business capacity and with some of my pals, who had been trying to figure how to get to some top Premiership matches, so we decided to buy some ourselves. This was my first visit to the Theatre of Dreams in the company of Len Langford, who happened to be the Doc's orthodontist, whose father had played in goal for Manchester United - he was a pal of the late, great Sir Matt Busby, whose statue we are standing in front of:
I got some relief late in March from the Scofish problems with a golf trip to Florida, which had been planned and booked since the previous year. I was determined not to miss this one as, not only were we playing golf, but I'd finally managed to get tickets to go to Augusta for one of the Masters practice days - somewhere I'd always wanted to go.
We finished our golf at Southern Dunes, just south of Orlando, then drove north west to Georgia. The Tuesday was the only day you could take cameras on the course and we got lots of shots of the stars playing and practising - they were very relaxed and enjoyed some banter with the crowds. The place was just as magical as I had hoped it would be - beautifully manicured. Here I am in front of the famous butler cabin where they award the Green Jacket on Sunday night:
The following day - Wednesday - we drove back to Orlando to catch our plane home, arriving back in the UK on Thursday - just in time to watch the first day of the tournament proper on TV. It was great to remember each of the holes, having walked the whole course just 2 days before. Television doesn't really show the huge changes in elevation, but they were now fresh in our minds and we could really appreciate the difficulty of some of the shots.
Even earlier that year than the Florida/Georgia trip, Jo and I had a quick mid-term weekend break in Malaga. It's a city whose airport we'd often landed at, but we'd always bypassed. It was a carnival weekend too. We spent a bit of time going round the Alcazaba fortification:
Leo Whaley was born that year as well - a young brother to Sam & Tom. We travelled down to see them all in May:
Our USA holiday that year started at the new Marriott resort in Las Vegas. It can be scarily hot there - as we found out when we tried to walk a couple of blocks with the boys. The scale of the place always fools you. The hotels are so massive that you think they're much closer than they really are. Poor little Braeden nearly died out there. First law of perspective learned. Here's a happier shot taken inside the Triple 7 brewpub:
Back in Grants Pass, the first task was to pick up Bailey and Ryan:
As usual, we had a lovely time in USA, but, having flown in to Las Vegas with Virgin, we had to get back there for our return flight home. We got to McCarran airport OK, but then the news came back from the UK about the new security regulations following the foiled terrorist plot to detonate liquid explosives on 7 transatlantic planes. Inevitably, there were knock-on delays to all flights to and from the UK. We waited and waited and eventually boarded our plane. When we go to London, the airport was in chaos. Virtually all domestic flights were cancelled - we would have to find some overnight accommodation and try again in the morning.
I acted quickly and managed to get a room at a hotel not too far from the airport. Jo wasn't feeling too well and went straight to bed whilst I had something to eat and drink. The news the following morning was no better - there would be very few domestic flights anywhere. Our only option would be to try the train. That wasn't exactly an easy option either - the crowds were massive. I fought my way on to the train and quickly grabbed 2 seats for Jo and I - we were some of the fortunate ones. There were bodies everywhere - nobody could move up the aisles. It was a hopeless situation for the train staff - they could do nothing but let it be a free-for-all.
Once we had recovered from our holiday and the journey from hell, it wasn't long before we were off to Edinburgh for the Fringe, with the Kilgours and Masons in tow:
That wasn't the end of our short breaks that year. Come October, we headed down to St. Andrews:
In September my company car contract was up and it was time to replace it - with another Volvo:
Ross was going through a succession of cars about this time, including 2 Saabs:
whilst Kelly had a Beetle:
We decided it was time to upgrade the windows in our front room to the same standard as those that had been fitted in our bedroom:
Gigs that year included Billy Bragg, the Blockheads and Roddy Frame.
Just prior to Xmas, we got the opportunity of a break at the Craigendarroch, Ballater. Ross and his pals used it for a few days, as did we, with the Kilgours coming down to join us one night:
Christmas that year was a mere preamble to the main event with little Luca being born on 30th December:
By early 2007, I had started a blog - 12th March, to be precise. It started off as a simple diary of events but then veered off a little until almost a year later when I decided to compartmentalize and opened firstly a football blog, then a golf one, followed by a squash one etc until today when I now have a total of 10 separate blogs. The cessation of this blog with this final post will bring the number back down to "just" nine blogs. Renshaw's Chronicles started on 27th May, 2011 and now stretches to well over 400 pages (including photographs) and 70,000 words.
When I look back - through childhood days in Whiteinch, then Corby, to Johnstone and Knightswood, followed by married life in Chryston, Broxbourne, Balerno and eventually Banchory - I wonder about the apparent early wanderlust followed by over 30 years in the same home. Why didn't we move again? Was it too much bother, or were we too busy to do anything about it?
There were 6 of us when we moved in to Arbor Court in 1983 and this was the largest space we could get for what we could afford at the time (£60,000). A decade or more later when Lucy was on the cusp of moving on, Ross was still at school and obviously getting bigger. Gary, Kelly and Ross all eventually left home too but the boys came back a couple of times, so it was perhaps as well that we never downsized to the little bungalow we've often discussed.
Then the grandchildren came along and the space came in handy again when they come here on holiday etc., so we're still sitting here, just the two of us now in a 4-bedroom, 3-storey house. Will we ever move from here? Next stop might be a care home, but if an opportunity came along to buy a small bungalow, within reasonable walking distance of the town centre and on the level (i.e. not uphill), I'm sure we would take it.
Our home moves in earlier years were dictated to a large extent by employment opportunities - none of it was planned. I guess my Mum and Dad did the same - and now Lucy and Kelly have also moved away from "home" too - although for slightly different reasons - we miss them being around, but we do get nice holidays!
I guess I'm still at heart a Glaswegian, even although I've only lived there for less than a quarter of my life. Half of my life has now been spent in Aberdeenshire and I do still enjoy it here. As the years have gone on, however, both Jo and I have inevitably seen less and less of our siblings and their families - but maybe this will reverse a little now that we're both retired and have a little more time.
So I think that's about it - my life has been pretty well documented now.
It's a debate I've often had with friends and colleagues - where do you draw the line when it comes to entertaining? Personally, I was always happy to accept the occasional invitation to a golf outing or a football match, but, for me, the dividing line came with anything that involved an overnight stay - I was always on alert whenever this was offered - particularly to my colleagues, one of whom once got an invitation to be flown down to Monaco for the Grand Prix weekend with 4 nights' accommodation at a hugely expensive hotel thrown in, plus premier tickets for the race and practice days - and all of this was from a supplier that we'd hardly ever done business with. Needless to say, I objected to him going - but he couldn't understand why. Events I subsequently uncovered early in 2006 explained his lack of morality to me in full.
Anyway, back to Old Trafford. The premier home matches against the top 4 teams were reserved for the top customers - fair enough. Initially, there was a plan to make the season tickets self-funding by selling the seats to the other matches to business contacts, staff etc. I was fortunate enough to attend both in a business capacity and with some of my pals, who had been trying to figure how to get to some top Premiership matches, so we decided to buy some ourselves. This was my first visit to the Theatre of Dreams in the company of Len Langford, who happened to be the Doc's orthodontist, whose father had played in goal for Manchester United - he was a pal of the late, great Sir Matt Busby, whose statue we are standing in front of:
I got some relief late in March from the Scofish problems with a golf trip to Florida, which had been planned and booked since the previous year. I was determined not to miss this one as, not only were we playing golf, but I'd finally managed to get tickets to go to Augusta for one of the Masters practice days - somewhere I'd always wanted to go.
We finished our golf at Southern Dunes, just south of Orlando, then drove north west to Georgia. The Tuesday was the only day you could take cameras on the course and we got lots of shots of the stars playing and practising - they were very relaxed and enjoyed some banter with the crowds. The place was just as magical as I had hoped it would be - beautifully manicured. Here I am in front of the famous butler cabin where they award the Green Jacket on Sunday night:
The following day - Wednesday - we drove back to Orlando to catch our plane home, arriving back in the UK on Thursday - just in time to watch the first day of the tournament proper on TV. It was great to remember each of the holes, having walked the whole course just 2 days before. Television doesn't really show the huge changes in elevation, but they were now fresh in our minds and we could really appreciate the difficulty of some of the shots.
Even earlier that year than the Florida/Georgia trip, Jo and I had a quick mid-term weekend break in Malaga. It's a city whose airport we'd often landed at, but we'd always bypassed. It was a carnival weekend too. We spent a bit of time going round the Alcazaba fortification:
Leo Whaley was born that year as well - a young brother to Sam & Tom. We travelled down to see them all in May:
Our USA holiday that year started at the new Marriott resort in Las Vegas. It can be scarily hot there - as we found out when we tried to walk a couple of blocks with the boys. The scale of the place always fools you. The hotels are so massive that you think they're much closer than they really are. Poor little Braeden nearly died out there. First law of perspective learned. Here's a happier shot taken inside the Triple 7 brewpub:
Back in Grants Pass, the first task was to pick up Bailey and Ryan:
As usual, we had a lovely time in USA, but, having flown in to Las Vegas with Virgin, we had to get back there for our return flight home. We got to McCarran airport OK, but then the news came back from the UK about the new security regulations following the foiled terrorist plot to detonate liquid explosives on 7 transatlantic planes. Inevitably, there were knock-on delays to all flights to and from the UK. We waited and waited and eventually boarded our plane. When we go to London, the airport was in chaos. Virtually all domestic flights were cancelled - we would have to find some overnight accommodation and try again in the morning.
I acted quickly and managed to get a room at a hotel not too far from the airport. Jo wasn't feeling too well and went straight to bed whilst I had something to eat and drink. The news the following morning was no better - there would be very few domestic flights anywhere. Our only option would be to try the train. That wasn't exactly an easy option either - the crowds were massive. I fought my way on to the train and quickly grabbed 2 seats for Jo and I - we were some of the fortunate ones. There were bodies everywhere - nobody could move up the aisles. It was a hopeless situation for the train staff - they could do nothing but let it be a free-for-all.
Once we had recovered from our holiday and the journey from hell, it wasn't long before we were off to Edinburgh for the Fringe, with the Kilgours and Masons in tow:
That wasn't the end of our short breaks that year. Come October, we headed down to St. Andrews:
In September my company car contract was up and it was time to replace it - with another Volvo:
Ross was going through a succession of cars about this time, including 2 Saabs:
whilst Kelly had a Beetle:
We decided it was time to upgrade the windows in our front room to the same standard as those that had been fitted in our bedroom:
Gigs that year included Billy Bragg, the Blockheads and Roddy Frame.
Just prior to Xmas, we got the opportunity of a break at the Craigendarroch, Ballater. Ross and his pals used it for a few days, as did we, with the Kilgours coming down to join us one night:
Christmas that year was a mere preamble to the main event with little Luca being born on 30th December:
By early 2007, I had started a blog - 12th March, to be precise. It started off as a simple diary of events but then veered off a little until almost a year later when I decided to compartmentalize and opened firstly a football blog, then a golf one, followed by a squash one etc until today when I now have a total of 10 separate blogs. The cessation of this blog with this final post will bring the number back down to "just" nine blogs. Renshaw's Chronicles started on 27th May, 2011 and now stretches to well over 400 pages (including photographs) and 70,000 words.
When I look back - through childhood days in Whiteinch, then Corby, to Johnstone and Knightswood, followed by married life in Chryston, Broxbourne, Balerno and eventually Banchory - I wonder about the apparent early wanderlust followed by over 30 years in the same home. Why didn't we move again? Was it too much bother, or were we too busy to do anything about it?
There were 6 of us when we moved in to Arbor Court in 1983 and this was the largest space we could get for what we could afford at the time (£60,000). A decade or more later when Lucy was on the cusp of moving on, Ross was still at school and obviously getting bigger. Gary, Kelly and Ross all eventually left home too but the boys came back a couple of times, so it was perhaps as well that we never downsized to the little bungalow we've often discussed.
Then the grandchildren came along and the space came in handy again when they come here on holiday etc., so we're still sitting here, just the two of us now in a 4-bedroom, 3-storey house. Will we ever move from here? Next stop might be a care home, but if an opportunity came along to buy a small bungalow, within reasonable walking distance of the town centre and on the level (i.e. not uphill), I'm sure we would take it.
Our home moves in earlier years were dictated to a large extent by employment opportunities - none of it was planned. I guess my Mum and Dad did the same - and now Lucy and Kelly have also moved away from "home" too - although for slightly different reasons - we miss them being around, but we do get nice holidays!
I guess I'm still at heart a Glaswegian, even although I've only lived there for less than a quarter of my life. Half of my life has now been spent in Aberdeenshire and I do still enjoy it here. As the years have gone on, however, both Jo and I have inevitably seen less and less of our siblings and their families - but maybe this will reverse a little now that we're both retired and have a little more time.
So I think that's about it - my life has been pretty well documented now.
No comments:
Post a Comment