It’s happening at last.
Late September, I’ll be joining that both growing and diminishing, but always exclusive, club. Y’see, on that most special of all days, I’ll be able to formally and officially call myself: “A ‘Boomer’ on a pension!”
On a Monday. Had to be, of course.
Anyways, from that day and ever onwards, until I cease to be, I’ll be getting a UK State Pension. As I’d worked for many years in the UK, I was fully entitled to one. Not a full one, naturally, as I haven’t worked there most of my life, but a pension nevertheless.
Then, back in 2019, and back in the UK, I ‘topped-up’ my pension by paying a sum for each of 10 years I hadn’t contributed. That is: Each year I wasn’t in the UK paying taxes to ‘HM Revenue and Customs’. Ten years being the maximum I could do that for.
What’s that mean in simple terms? It means my UK State Pension increased to where it could/will form much of our ‘passive’ income in the coming years. Still nowhere near a full pension, but given where I’m claiming it, it’ll f’sure help us get by here in Modica!
One of the many reasons we chose to move here: Because trying to live on a pension in either NZ or the UK doesn’t bear thinking about, I’m afraid!
I’m absolutely an “Old Fart” now!
“Tempo Passa”
“Time Passes”: My youngest, Anton, turned 30 the other day.
Which merely reinforces that I really am an “Old Fart” now! I could (and will!) state platitudes like: “Where have the years gone?” Alongside: “OMG! Now I really do feel old!” Not forgetting: “I used to change his nappies!”
Why bring this up? Back when I was working in IT with a whole lot of way younger people, a few of them called me “wise”. I always corrected them. Stating I wasn’t then, and never would be, any ‘wiser’ than they were ... simply more experienced.
I mean: I’m no ‘wiser’ now at 65 than I was at my son’s age. It’s simply that I’ve been around on this earth a whole lot longer than they (and Anton) have had the privilege of being.
Down those years I’ve given many work-related presentations to those same younger IT workers. And I’d often begin by stating that I’ve been around the block so many times, I’ve named all the cracks in the footpath!
The mistakes made during those years, and more recently, prove the ‘wisdom’ of my words here, I’m afraid.
What I have here are memories to draw upon that maybe you don’t…
Liquid Asset
As I’m writing this, we’ve run out of water.
Again!
I’d reported this in last month’s post, and not much has changed. Except that the Sindica (Mayor) and Iblea Aqua (the water company) have both turned off comments on their Facebook posts updating us on the current lack-of-water situation.
And of course! Because locals aren’t too happy with either right now.
What can we do about it though? Well, we do have the option of ordering in a 500 litre ‘top-up’, which we’ll likely have to do soon, if’n we get no water in the near future.
It doesn’t help that temperatures have been, and will be, above 30 celcius. And that we’ve had no rain for months now, as well!
As I stated last month though: “On balance: Life’s still sweet here…”
And that remains true. Fundamentally so! I mean: there are way worse problems we could be facing.
We don’t have famine, war, and/or civil disturbance on our streets. The sun may be way hot, but the beer’s still ice-cold. Prices may be going up, but far less than elsewhere in the EU.
The beach is still only a 25-minute drive away. And we still have petrol for the car. The supermarkets are well-stocked, and our internet’s good. The locals are still friendly, albeit a little stressed right now!
So, all in all, we can’t really grumble!
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