I’ve found the simplest way to stay healthy is to keep breathing. I tried stopping once. Not a pleasant experience.
Two other great tips for keeping healthy are to eat plenty of food and wash it down with lots of liquids. preferably of the alcoholic variety.
My current city of residence is Portsmouth, or as it is known to locals, Pompey. Pompey should not be confused with the Roman town of Pompeii
Pompey is home to The Royal Navy who have played a significant role in world history both ancient and modern. Here, in the middle of an active naval port, you can visit Nelson’s flagship HMS Victory, Britain’s first iron-hulled, armoured warship HMS Warrior and Henry VIIIs Tudor warship The Mary Rose. Up on Portsdown Hill you can visit Fort Nelson, part of the Royal Armouries group of museums. Fort Nelson claims to be the loudest museum in the UK as they have live firings every day. Possibly the best thing about the fort is that admission is free. Just a short trip across the Solent is the Isle of Wight where Queen Victoria had her splendid retreat, Osbourne House. While many folks head to London for their quick historical fix, they miss out on one of the many other treasures that the UK has to offer. Pompey is just 60 miles away from the capital. A short ride by train or coach
Feeling quite pleased with myself today. I spent most of yesterday working in the garden so the view is looking very tidy. Its amazing what a difference mowing the lawn makes. Seems to make the garden bigger. Now I can start to work on pots and tubs, trimming the shrubs and cutting back the brambles and nettles which always try to take over every year. Sadly there was a casualty of my efforts yesterday.
I knocked over the bird table and its looking a bit sorry for itself. I think its repairable, we’ll see. I’m also going to have to take a look at the feet of our table too. Seems the years haven’t been too kind. The bottom of one set of feet have rotted out. Looks like I have to re-awaken my woodworking skills.
Will be heading down to the doctors later today. My wife is suffering from what we believe to be flu. Has the cough and voice of someone who smokes sixty a day. Says she feels like she has gone several rounds with Mike Tyson and then been mugged. That would be the muscle ache from all the coughing. She saw the doctor on Thursday but all they prescribed was a nasal spray to relive the congestion. Said her chest was clear. Not so sure now, judging by the death rattle when she is trying to sleep.
Have already spoken to the out of hours medics who recommended we wait till 09:00 when our own surgery will have someone on duty.
Don’t you just love the NHS
My first ever work experience was for a small company called Battle Engineering based in Battle, Sussex, England (1066 and all that). They employed just 8 people and I was taken on as a Machine Operator. Battle Engineering was, perhaps, what you might call a jobbing workshop. Carrying out all manner of work for local businesses. I think, at the time I was there, the biggest customer was Guinness Hop Farms.
Like many new starters, I started at the bottom. My working day started in pretty much the same way every day. Collect the tea mugs from around the building, wash up and put the kettle on. While the kettle was boiling I would start to sweep up around the workshop. Collecting the swarf from the floor and also emptying the swarf trays under the machines. This clearing up would be interrupted by making the first cup of tea for everyone. Once the cups were distributed I would carry on clearing up. Once that task was completed I would report to Pat, the boss, who would then give me “real” work. This might involve using fly presses, saws, drills and shaping machines. At around the middle of the 3rd week I was informed that I was being made redundant. One of the contracts that they had bid for had failed to materialise and they couldn’t afford to keep me on. So I was given a weeks notice.
At the end of the 4th week Pat asked if I had found any other work, which I hadn’t. So he offered me the job of painting the exterior of the building. I took up the offer. After all it was summer, sunny, and it meant I would be working outside and I had my transistor radio so I could listen to pirate radio all day.
This job grew and I then re-decorated the interior followed by tearing down the old office which was squeezed into one corner. This was replaced by a new mezzanine floor which I, along with much direction and assistance, installed. Once the modifications were completed Pat kept me on to work the machines again.
Over the next few months I learnt how to operate lathes, turret lathes, linishers, as well as becoming reaquainted with drills, fly presses and metal saws etc. All in all I worked for Battle Engineering for 9 months. I learnt a lot, not just about machines but also about how to get along with folks and also the meaning of adaptability when it comes to work. I liked it there, I had a good laugh and I do wonder where those guys are now.
When did all this happen ? Well it was over the 2nd half of 1968 into 1969. I remember on one of my trips to the hardware store, stopping outside the TV shop in Battle high street and watching at least one live broadcast of an Apollo mission. That would have been between October 11th, 1968 (Apollo 7) and March 3rd, 1969 (Apollo 9).
How much did I make ? Well when I started I was getting £4 per week. Of that I had to give my Mum half for my keep. This job had only ever been a stop-gap as I was due to start an apprenticeship at the Royal Naval Dockyard – Portsmouth. There I became a Fitter & Turner by trade but that’s a much longer story.
Never give a rifle to your sister. This is a significant and painfull lesson that I learnt.
Admittedly the rifle was one of those spring loaded cork guns. Right about now you may be asking yourselves how does a cork gun impart a painful lesson ? Well the story goes like this. Me and my friends were playing cowboys and indians in the garden of our house in Lewes. My sister had convinced us boys that she should play too. So big brother does the right thing and lets her have the rifle. I'm creeping around the corner of the canyon (brick wall) when I am confronted with one of them pesky injuns (sister) holding a stolen winchester (cork gun) rifle. Thats it, I'm a gonner. All Big Chief Sitting Bull has to do is pull the trigger. Thats when my sister hit me with the rifle. Right, slap bang on my forehead. Lesson learnt. I have never, ever, given her a rifle since that time. So far, after 40 plus years, my skull is intact.
enseigne du restaurant “Chez Clément”
Oh Wow. There have been so many good restaurants in so many cities. If I had to choose then I think the venue would have to be Chez Clement on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. I would be dining with my wife and we would have a table in the main window area.. The time would be about now so that it would be a nice warm spring evening and the table would be open to the street with the Arc de Triomphe a short way off. A beautifully illuminated backdrop for a spot of people watching. The food would be irrelevent. We have eaten here with friends and last year we took my granddaughter to Paris and of course made a certain that we ate here again. They served her a fabulous chicken dish, presented in a very ornately arranged crepe. The food is always very good here. I would recommend a visit if you are ever in Paris….. http://www.chezclement.com/
Of the two I would prefer to be a great singer. To be able to emotionally move other folks just by singing has to be one of the greatest gifts one can receive. And no instruments required, other than the human voice. I know dancers can show emotion in their movement but I have yet to see a dancer that actually moved me to tears. On the other hand, I have become watery eyed on many occasions when listening to a really great song. Sometimes it will be the words that move me. Sometimes, it is the manner of the singing, which is why music and song transcend national/language boundaries.
The front door key. Because without it I can't get back in. More to the point neither can my wife. Typically I drive her to work so if I forget the front door key we are both locked out as her key is on the ring attached to her car keys. Sorry, is that too obvious.
I actually enjoyed my latter years in school but to answer the question…… NO
No I won't be going back to school. I don't think I have the stamina. Just trying to keep my grandchildren in school is proving to be a momentous task. The schools in this area leave a lot to be desired and as a nation I believe we have lost focus, educationaly.
WrAnTz 