As one door shuts...

Folk always say it’s the people you’ll remember, and they are absolutely right.

I worked in Glasgow City Council for twenty-four and a half years, not quite my twenty-five year long service award. During that time, I worked in many different places: Social Work for about half of it, then Financial Services, shared back office services, service development, governance and control.

Across those different roles, I was involved in many, many different operations, projects and processes. Some of them were challenging. Some of them were really challenging. But whatever the challenge was, I can honestly say we always got through it.

And why?

It was rarely because of perfect processes, brilliant systems, or technology saving the day (certainly not in the public sector). It was pretty much always because of the people.

The people I worked with were fantastic, and it was an utter privilege to work alongside them. They made my career so much better, so much easier, and so much more positive. All the things I’ve achieved would not have been done without them, and for that I am truly grateful.

I even appreciated their patience and honesty when I got things wrong, which apparently might have happened from time to time.

And as the door shuts on my life in GCC, I have been given so many lovely messages, good wishes and presents to help me on my way that I feel genuinely humbled. I take with me some truly wonderful memories, and the knowledge that I had a career well lived.

I’ll really miss the people though.

But as ever, as one door shuts, another opens. It will take a while to adjust to my new life, but I have no doubt many new adventures await.

Here’s to stepping through new doors.

The start of retirement day

My very own 24.5 year long service award

And a massive cake to boot

Some of the amazing people...

And some more...

Videoclip: Cheers Nigel (put the captions on)

Or you can watch the clip here

The end of retirement day - gotta love the kids 😁

The longest day...

Some days just seem longer than others.

Covid was the clearest example for me as days somehow passed in the blink of an eye. There's proper science behind this: variety breaks patterns in the brain and helps us form new memories, which makes time seem to stretch out when we look back. Routine, on the other hand, often blurs into one big nothingness and time just flies by - hence the Covid effect.

And so we've just spent the most wonderful time on a trip to Lunan Bay, 2 miles of beautiful beach on the east coast, turning two days turn into what felt like a week. Saturday felt exceptionally long - although technically it was the day before the longest day, on 21 June. But hey, I wasn't counting.

Friday morning I worked half a day. I don't often do that, so it somehow felt like a full day. I rushed back home to pack up and wait for the rain to abate, before we had an early dinner and left the house at 5.30pm - which already felt like 8pm.

We dropped Emily off for her own weekend of fun with friends before the remaining four of us raced across Scotland in search of sun. We arrived at the campsite about 7.30pm to meet friends Deniz, Tom, Olive and Dune, and rattled up the tent. Then all of us headed to the beach for a barbecue and, for us, a second dinner. By the time we got to bed at midnight, it felt like we'd already been there a whole day. Quite surreal.

Then Saturday really started.

Up early with Rowan, then coffee, then I went for a run and a dip. By the time I was back, the rest were already on the beach cooking up a massive breakfast. We hung around for a few hours, with Rowan slightly cowering from a meet-up of about 30 border collies, making memories, sandcastles and playing in the surf.

Then, after what felt like an entire day, we returned to the tents to restock for lunch - a picnic by the river. Completely different environment, so my brain counted it as day three.

We hung around the river, played in the water, and took a short stroll to see Red Castle. I also popped to see my old friend Carol, who lives in a stunning house on the beach.

And after day three, we headed back to the tents again via the café for a beer and an ice cream. A bit more restocking, a bit of washing up, a quick change, and then we headed back once more to the beach for an evening of barbecue fun.

This time there was a wedding on the beach and various other things going on, all reprogramming my brain into thinking it was now day four. And with a little bit of fiddle music, and some great chat and laughter, the day finally ended after what seemed like a week.

With the sun still shining the next morning, we managed to squeeze in a little bit more before heading home. A short weekend trip felt like a week's holiday. Incredible.

Oh, and Tanya - the world's most enthusiastic camper, but only when the sun shines - definitely had a marvellous time. Mainly because the sun was shining and she got to spend lots of time in water.

Thanks very much to Deniz, Tom, Olive and Dune for making memories to last a lifetime.

Stunning Lunan Bay

Red sky at night

Shepherds delight early doors

Breakfast on the beach

I was happy...

And so was Tanya...

She got to swim

While we had lunch by the river

And chatted

And slept

Before another barbecue on the beach

And enjoyed some music into the night

Happy Times!

Hanging up my boots...

Retire - (verb) - to permanently withdraw from your position, occupation, or active working life, typically because of advanced age, reaching pensionable age, or ill health.

I’m retiring. There, I’ve said it.

Although I’m not sure the above definition quite fits. I don’t think I’m retiring because of advanced age, pensionable age, or ill health. I’m retiring because I want to spend more of my time doing the things that matter most to me.

“But you’re too young,” they say.

Well, that’s kind of the point. And besides, I don’t stop being young just because I stop working full time.

“What will you do with yourself?” they say.

Really? Do I need to answer that?

I want to spend more time with my kids while they still want to spend time with me. Not just the squeezed-in bits around work, school, emails, meetings, tiredness and weekends that vanish too quickly.

I want to run and cycle more. I want to walk the dog, tend the garden, write, think, read, and have a bit more space in my head. I want to do more in the community, give back where I can, and be a bit more creative. I want some adventures, of course, but mostly I want a fairly simple life built around the things and people I love.

I know I’m fortunate to be able to make this choice. It has taken planning, support, a bit of luck, and a lot of years of working hard. I also know not everyone would want this. Some people love their work, some people need to keep working, and some people find meaning and identity in their job. I understand all of that.

But for me, this feels right. This isn’t about doing nothing. It’s about choosing what I do with the time that is given to me. It’s about living a flourishing life - one with more family, more health, more presence, more usefulness, more fresh air, and perhaps a little less rushing.

“Wow. I’m really happy for you. That’s amazing,” they say.

Now that’s more like it. Because if you are lucky enough to have a choice, and if the life you want is calling quite loudly, then maybe the brave thing is to listen.

So there you go. June 26th, I finish. A whole summer with the kids awaits and I'm excited to explore it with them.