The Retirement Thread

[classic33]

Inside the last Thirty-Six now!

 

[welsh dragon]

What we getting?

You can have a packet of biscuits between the lot of you

 

[classic33]

You can have a packet of biscuits between the lot of you

There's only 19 in a packet of custard creams nowadays. Some packets don't even have the "bakers dozen"!

 

[oldwheels]

No phone call from Ernie yet so doubt I am a millionaire this month either

Not due for another few days yet.

 

[welsh dragon]

Asked potatoes and corned beef for us today.

 

[dickyknees]

Just back from a bimble. Managed to dodge the showers but gave up after seventeen miles when it started hailing. No fun.

 

[Dave7]

Anyone watch BBC2 prog about Monaco. 1st one last night.....3 episodes.
Its fascinating and obscene. Get your head had around this..... hotel room.....£135k PER NIGHT .
We have been there several times while on holiday, so its interesting to us.
I know Chorley Paul has been there.
Tonight is the annual yacht show......again fascinating and obscene.

 

[classic33]

Asked potatoes and corned beef for us today.

What did you ask them and what was their answer?

 

[classic33]

Anyone watch BBC2 prog about Monaco. 1st one last night.....3 episodes.
Its fascinating and obscene. Get your head had around this..... hotel room.....£135k PER NIGHT .
We have been there several times while on holiday, so its interesting to us.
I know Chorley Paul has been there.
Tonight is the annual yacht show......again fascinating and obscene.

There was me thinking you didn't do expensive holidays.

 

[monkers]

Hi all.

Times have been crazy just lately.

Mum had been deteriorating, slowly at first, but then with quickening pace. After becoming unresponsive for a while, she slipped quietly away yesterday. She was 91, a pretty good innings. She never went out to work after her first maternity. Dad was fully blind in one eye, and mostly blind in the other. He did his national service, initially hiding his blindness, until caught out during bayonet practice, where he apparently just ran at the source of the noise and nearly ran the Sargeant Major through - or so the story goes.

They sent him to what was Ceylon notionally to join the pay core, but they discovered his gift for the piano, and he spent two years playing piano in the officers' mess. He came home after two years, and told the story with something of a twinkle in his eye, that it was a toss up whether to stay and keep playing piano there, or come home and marry my mother.

I was aware that she had exchanged letters, Xmas cards etc with the same school friends, evacuation friends, work friends, pen friends around the world, but she didn't say exactly with whom. Dad had kept in contact by letter with a number of people from his past too. Perhaps it was more of a thing in those days, prior to there being a telephone in every household. After he went in 2014, Mum had kept the letter writing going with those friends of his too, well those that remained.

The process of sifting through began earlier in the year. There were some real surprises. Dad had corresponded mostly with musical chums and acquaintences as well as army chums, work chums, even childhood neighbours.

There are letters between Dad with Mick Jagger's father, Dorothy Squires, Yehudi Menuhin, my primary school headteacher whose father he had known apparently, and letters between Mum with Beryl Reid, Dame Shirley Williams and others. There's nothing so much remarkable in their content, but they are charming for their geniality - a tone that has become lost over time. It's as if, we Brits are not the same people as those from that generation; sadly, yesterday, Old Father Time claimed another.

 

[numbnuts]

Hi all.

Times have been crazy just lately.

Mum had been deteriorating, slowly at first, but then with quickening pace. After becoming unresponsive for a while, she slipped quietly away yesterday. She was 91, a pretty good innings. She never went out to work after her first maternity. Dad was fully blind in one eye, and mostly blind in the other. He did his national service, initially hiding his blindness, until caught out during bayonet practice, where he apparently just ran at the source of the noise and nearly ran the Sargeant Major through - or so the story goes.

They sent him to what was Ceylon notionally to join the pay core, but they discovered his gift for the piano, and he spent two years playing piano in the officers' mess. He came home after two years, and told the story with something of a twinkle in his eye, that it was a toss up whether to stay and keep playing piano there, or come home and marry my mother.

I was aware that she had exchanged letters, Xmas cards etc with the same school friends, evacuation friends, work friends, pen friends around the world, but she didn't say exactly with whom. Dad had kept in contact by letter with a number of people from his past too. Perhaps it was more of a thing in those days, prior to there being a telephone in every household. After he went in 2014, Mum had kept the letter writing going with those friends of his too, well those that remained.

The process of sifting through began earlier in the year. There were some real surprises. Dad had corresponded mostly with musical chums and acquaintences as well as army chums, work chums, even childhood neighbours.

There are letters between Dad with Mick Jagger's father, Dorothy Squires, Yehudi Menuhin, my primary school headteacher whose father he had known apparently, and letters between Mum with Beryl Reid, Dame Shirley Williams and others. There's nothing so much remarkable in their content, but they are charming for their geniality - a tone that has become lost over time. It's as if, we Brits are not the same people as those from that generation; sadly, yesterday, Old Father Time claimed another.

My condolences

 

[Deleted member 1258]

I’m not getting an old wifey trolley!

Ours is in the shed, haven't used it for years,when we were car free it made shopping a lot easier.

 

[rustybolts]

Hi all.

Times have been crazy just lately.

Mum had been deteriorating, slowly at first, but then with quickening pace. After becoming unresponsive for a while, she slipped quietly away yesterday. She was 91, a pretty good innings. She never went out to work after her first maternity. Dad was fully blind in one eye, and mostly blind in the other. He did his national service, initially hiding his blindness, until caught out during bayonet practice, where he apparently just ran at the source of the noise and nearly ran the Sargeant Major through - or so the story goes.

They sent him to what was Ceylon notionally to join the pay core, but they discovered his gift for the piano, and he spent two years playing piano in the officers' mess. He came home after two years, and told the story with something of a twinkle in his eye, that it was a toss up whether to stay and keep playing piano there, or come home and marry my mother.

I was aware that she had exchanged letters, Xmas cards etc with the same school friends, evacuation friends, work friends, pen friends around the world, but she didn't say exactly with whom. Dad had kept in contact by letter with a number of people from his past too. Perhaps it was more of a thing in those days, prior to there being a telephone in every household. After he went in 2014, Mum had kept the letter writing going with those friends of his too, well those that remained.

The process of sifting through began earlier in the year. There were some real surprises. Dad had corresponded mostly with musical chums and acquaintences as well as army chums, work chums, even childhood neighbours.

There are letters between Dad with Mick Jagger's father, Dorothy Squires, Yehudi Menuhin, my primary school headteacher whose father he had known apparently, and letters between Mum with Beryl Reid, Dame Shirley Williams and others. There's nothing so much remarkable in their content, but they are charming for their geniality - a tone that has become lost over time. It's as if, we Brits are not the same people as those from that generation; sadly, yesterday, Old Father Time claimed another.

Sorry to hear your sad news

 

[Deleted member 1258]

Hi all.

Times have been crazy just lately.

Mum had been deteriorating, slowly at first, but then with quickening pace. After becoming unresponsive for a while, she slipped quietly away yesterday. She was 91, a pretty good innings. She never went out to work after her first maternity. Dad was fully blind in one eye, and mostly blind in the other. He did his national service, initially hiding his blindness, until caught out during bayonet practice, where he apparently just ran at the source of the noise and nearly ran the Sargeant Major through - or so the story goes.

They sent him to what was Ceylon notionally to join the pay core, but they discovered his gift for the piano, and he spent two years playing piano in the officers' mess. He came home after two years, and told the story with something of a twinkle in his eye, that it was a toss up whether to stay and keep playing piano there, or come home and marry my mother.

I was aware that she had exchanged letters, Xmas cards etc with the same school friends, evacuation friends, work friends, pen friends around the world, but she didn't say exactly with whom. Dad had kept in contact by letter with a number of people from his past too. Perhaps it was more of a thing in those days, prior to there being a telephone in every household. After he went in 2014, Mum had kept the letter writing going with those friends of his too, well those that remained.

The process of sifting through began earlier in the year. There were some real surprises. Dad had corresponded mostly with musical chums and acquaintences as well as army chums, work chums, even childhood neighbours.

There are letters between Dad with Mick Jagger's father, Dorothy Squires, Yehudi Menuhin, my primary school headteacher whose father he had known apparently, and letters between Mum with Beryl Reid, Dame Shirley Williams and others. There's nothing so much remarkable in their content, but they are charming for their geniality - a tone that has become lost over time. It's as if, we Brits are not the same people as those from that generation; sadly, yesterday, Old Father Time claimed another.

My condolences monkers.

 

[Tenkaykev]

So sorry to hear your sad news Monkers, condolences and a big virtual hug.