Cricket.... Cancer.... Hopefully a cure....Plus fun.
Probably has something to do with global warming. My chatty barber(I still have hair) a local sports analyst, asks,
"I suppose you will be watching the England V South Africa Cricket test matches on the telly shortly, where are they playing"?
There are many people like him in oz, some must wonder why the majority of festive greeting cards have a snow feature.
Very few Australians, particularly slow moving Queenslanders would grasp the fact that the playing conditions for cricket in Britain(Three months of Northern summer) are no better than the off season for cricket in Australia approx Five months, the Aus cricket season being more than twice that of Britain.
Rik pong ting continues to sport an unshaven dial partially hiding the frowns and smirks depending on the fortunes of the game and cock ups of his prone to cheating team mates. In one two hour session of play recently he was seen to have spat on hands fourteen times besides picking his nose and scratching his goolies and his shaky batting performance recently - against what he described as a poorly performing sub standard West Indies team is simply laughable.
But on a more serious note, I received info via a telephone call from the wife of an old shipmate informing me that she and her husband had received news that another old shipmate had contracted the dreaded cancer, the person concerned is more than a great friend, we served together when we were teenagers on a battleship during the Pacific Campaign in WW2. I shall wait awhile before I phone to get confirmation.
An Australian Miracle. All cancers are cruel, but breast cancer is more so because of the damage suffered by the survivors.
Reconstructive surgery for breast cancer survivors can be almost as traumatic as defeating the disease itself. The great news is, that, Australian researchers have long led the field in cancer beating science, and now seem to have taken the lead in dealing with the rebuilding phase. Beyond that, it may have many medical applications. This is a real Aussie miracle, not a biblical Lazarus trick.
Went out last night, got to bed around 1-30 am. good music. Survived three sessions on the dance floor, looking around I must have qualified as the oldest swinger in town, Rosemary repeatedly tells me(Reagan ism creeping in) it was the best night entertainment we have had for ages, it's a wonder she knew what was going on - is she becoming a lush?
Today's weather is pleasantly mild, sun and cloud alternating with a cool breeze and expected to stay that way until Monday. Then back to that global warming thingy. and now it is my turn to organize dinner this evening. something simple of course, so I'll be off until time permits the next post. Ta for now. Back later Vest.
"I suppose you will be watching the England V South Africa Cricket test matches on the telly shortly, where are they playing"?
There are many people like him in oz, some must wonder why the majority of festive greeting cards have a snow feature.
Very few Australians, particularly slow moving Queenslanders would grasp the fact that the playing conditions for cricket in Britain(Three months of Northern summer) are no better than the off season for cricket in Australia approx Five months, the Aus cricket season being more than twice that of Britain.
Rik pong ting continues to sport an unshaven dial partially hiding the frowns and smirks depending on the fortunes of the game and cock ups of his prone to cheating team mates. In one two hour session of play recently he was seen to have spat on hands fourteen times besides picking his nose and scratching his goolies and his shaky batting performance recently - against what he described as a poorly performing sub standard West Indies team is simply laughable.
But on a more serious note, I received info via a telephone call from the wife of an old shipmate informing me that she and her husband had received news that another old shipmate had contracted the dreaded cancer, the person concerned is more than a great friend, we served together when we were teenagers on a battleship during the Pacific Campaign in WW2. I shall wait awhile before I phone to get confirmation.
An Australian Miracle. All cancers are cruel, but breast cancer is more so because of the damage suffered by the survivors.
Reconstructive surgery for breast cancer survivors can be almost as traumatic as defeating the disease itself. The great news is, that, Australian researchers have long led the field in cancer beating science, and now seem to have taken the lead in dealing with the rebuilding phase. Beyond that, it may have many medical applications. This is a real Aussie miracle, not a biblical Lazarus trick.
Went out last night, got to bed around 1-30 am. good music. Survived three sessions on the dance floor, looking around I must have qualified as the oldest swinger in town, Rosemary repeatedly tells me(Reagan ism creeping in) it was the best night entertainment we have had for ages, it's a wonder she knew what was going on - is she becoming a lush?
Today's weather is pleasantly mild, sun and cloud alternating with a cool breeze and expected to stay that way until Monday. Then back to that global warming thingy. and now it is my turn to organize dinner this evening. something simple of course, so I'll be off until time permits the next post. Ta for now. Back later Vest.
Comments
ooohhhhhh
Sorry about your mate and his big problem. glad you and your pretty wife are still having fun.
Wally: It could be that his mater had a romantic interlude during a Helen Wong tour of the Orient.
Aggie: I have sent video of the infamous underarm incident which occurred in the early eighties.
Gordon: Professional cricket does not get played in the winter season in Britain, the barber's knowledge of geography was probably limited to ten kay's distant from Budgewoi.
The majority of iconic persons are human beings let off a leash to be able to waggle their sausage with impunity. Like Shane the spinner, shark and the tiger - golfers; just to mention a few, and it is goofy pricks like your self who contribute to the ballooning wealth of of these self appointed assholes. Go get your mother to buy you a brain for Christmas.
i have a date for Christmas night
Every day he was 5, 10, 15 minutes late. But he was a good worker, really tidy, clean-shaven, sharp minded and a real credit to the company and obviously demonstrating their "Older Person Friendly" policies. One day the boss called Vest into the office for a talk. "Vest, I have to tell you, I like your work ethic, you do a bang up job, but you’re being late so often is quite bothersome."
"Yes, I know boss, and I am working on it."
"Well good, you are a team player. That's what I like to hear. It's odd though you’re coming in late. I know you're retired from the Armed Forces. What did they say if you came in late there?"
They said "Good morning, Admiral, can I get you a coffee, Sir?"
Let's not let the twelve women who have come forward in the Tiger Woods affair off lightly.
They have been politely called mistresses or escorts and so on They knew who he was, they knew he was married.
If they were paid directly by Tiger Woods for services rendered or have come forward expecting payment for their stories of sexual involvement with him, then it is quite simple. Let's call a spade a spade, They are protitutes, nothing more, nothing less.
If your'e ugly and heaps of butch women golfers are, its the only way of getting laid, golf money.
Vest of course will be dumped in the ocean
Wally will probably sink with the lower deck. a watery grave like the guy above
Hindus will burn
Muslims and Christians will feed the worms in the soil, recycled
Me, I have donated my body to Science, for transplantation
my brain and my dick will be used by other guys who have lost theirs
A woman asks her husband at breakfast time, "Would you like some bacon and eggs, a slice of toast, and maybe some grapefruit juice and coffee?"
He declines. "Thanks for asking, but I'm not hungry right now. It's this Viagra," he says. "It's really taken the edge off my appetite."
At lunchtime, she asked him if he would like something. "How about a bowl of soup, homemade muffins, or a cheese sandwich?"
He declines. "The Viagra," he says, "really trashes my desire for food."
Come dinnertime, she asks if he wants anything to eat. "Would you like a juicy rib eye steak and some scrumptious apple pie? Or maybe a rotisserie chicken or tasty stir fry?"
He declines again. "No," he says, "it's got to be the Viagra. I'm still not hungry."
"Well," she says, "Would you mind letting me up? I'm starving."
funeral in which The Last Post was played; this brings out a new meaning of
it.
Here is something everyone should know.
Until I read this, I didn't know, but I checked it out and it's true:
We have all heard the haunting song, 'The
Last Post.' It's the song that gives us the lump in our throats and usually
tears in our eyes.
But, do you know the story behind the song?
If not, I think you will be interested to find out about its humble
beginnings.
Reportedly, it all began in 1862 during the
American Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his
men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia . The Confederate Army was on the
other side of the narrow strip of land.
During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard
the moans of a soldier who lay severely wounded on the field. Not knowing
if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the Captain decided to risk his
life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his
stomach through the gunfire, the Captain reached the stricken soldier and
began pulling him toward his encampment.
When the Captain finally reached his own
lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier
was dead.
The Captain lit a lantern and suddenly
caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the
face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in
the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, the boy
enlisted in the Confederate Army.
The following morning, heartbroken, the
father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military
burial, despite his enemy status. His request was only partially granted.
The Captain had asked if he could have a
group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for his son at the funeral.
The request was turned down since the
soldier was a Confederate.
But, out of respect for the father, they did
say they could give him only one musician.
The Captain chose a bugler. He asked the
bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in
the pocket of the dead youth's uniform.
This wish was granted.
The haunting melody, we now know as 'The
Last Post' used at military funerals was born.
The words are:
Day is done.
Gone the sun.
From the lakes
From the hills.
From the sky.
All is well.
Safely rest.
God is nigh.
Fading light.
Dims the sight.
And a star.
Gems the sky.
Gleaming bright.
From afar.
Drawing nigh.
Falls the night.
Thanks and praise.
For our days.
Neath the sun
Neath the stars.
Neath the sky
As we go.
This we know.
God is nigh
I too have felt the chills while listening
to 'The Last Post' but I have never seen all the words to the song until
now. I didn't even know there was more than one verse . I also never knew
the story behind the song and I didn't know if you had either so I thought
I'd pass it along.
I now have an even deeper respect for the
song than I did before.
Remember Those Lost and Harmed While Serving
Their Country.
Also Remember Those Who Have Served And
Returned; and for those presently serving in the Armed Forces.
Please send this on after a short prayer.
Make this a Prayer wheel for our
soldiers...please don't break it .
I didn't!
Billy McGill approx 87 years of age served on Royal Navy Minesweepers during WW2 with the East Indies Fleet.
Billy is fit and Agile and who I hope will make it to 100 years plus, he is truly deserving of such a priviledge. "Up Spirits" Billy.
Last Post.' It's the song that gives us the lump in our throats and usually
tears in our eyes.
ya ya ya
for the blokes u killed in Viet Nam and IRAQ and ...
maybe Billy McGill is living those extra years forfeited by some of his less fortunate shipmates who perished during the conflict.
I have been reading about operation 'Iceberg' 1945, ten weeks of continuing action in Japanese territory in the Pacific, Well orchestrated previous one day Naval battles of the past do not match up to the carnage experienced in Operation Iceberg you and your mates Vesty must have really earned your stripes as the saying goes, I cannot imagine 16, 17, 18 and nineteen year olds coping with that nowadays. Mike.
u live to 102
one year longer than VEST
not sure how to contact you, but I think we may be related. My grandmother was called Victoria Violet Maude Stevens and my grandfather Reuben B***r. My father was born Jan 1931 and was adopted after she met another man.
Your statement is made without any form of substantiation.
we are churning out too many engineers and managers who work 24x7 for a pittance
u r impersonating ROSE
and some unmarried too