Another Mile Stone 25

Is this normal, is it what everybody goes through, or am I wearing out quicker than everyone else.


Passed Another Mile Stone

I have passed another mile stone, each year it is the same,
Birthday's come and birthdays go, the excitement's getting tame,
Not so quick at doing things and hair it's gone all grey,
After lunch we have a nap, and bed times half past eight.

Walking's steady, running's out, pace myself a bit,
Now I have a shooting stick, on which I often sit,
Got to eat lot less now, the weight it going up,
I'd be sent to market now, if I were a fat old tup.

Eye sight not too bad but, cannot read without some aid,
Glasses need up dating now, the eyes they have decayed,
Should have longer arms to read, new glasses conquer that,
They hit you in the pocket hard, on the old ones I have sat.

Driving very cautious, cannot see what's round the bend,
Reactions slowing up now, braking distance I extend,
Reversing on the mirrors, the distance hard to judge,
Backing up to a big old gate post , no wonder it wunner budge.

I thank my lucky stars that, I'm being looked after very well,
Still here on this old planet, writing down my tale to tell,
Recording what I've done in life, and all the folks we met,
Come hail or rain or sunshine, but we still get bloody wet.

Owd Fred





Is this normal, is it what everybody goes through, or am I wearing out quicker than everyone else. On top of what I've' already mentioned my sense of smell has all but gone, but thank goodness I can taste my food and imagine the smell from days when the nose was up to it.

Over the years I have had a few repairs, look back and see my blog on "Knees", or click on Metal Joints , that was a long drawn out session, it was eighteen months before I felt the full benefit of the new knees, up to now I have had eight years pain free, can't expect to run like we did in the school sports.

It goes back to when seed grain came in one acre bags one and three quarter hundred weight a bag, that's 196lbs, or 88kg in new measurements, now no ones aloud to lift much more than 25kg or 56lbs. You can only imagine carrying more than three of those and a bit more. When we were threshing wheat for sale, they often sent the hessian sacks, and it was stipulated they had got to be weighed to 75kg one and half cwt. as it was then. Seed sacks there would be thirty or forty to un load and load up at drilling time, but the wheat for sale it could be anything up to seven or eight hundred sacks, despatched in ten ton loads. These were bagged off the back of the threshing machine weighed up then wound up on a sack hoist and carried on ya back to the store, They had to be stacked in rows two high with a gap between rows, to allow the cats to get in and keep the rats controlled, just a few sacks piled together rats would nibble hole in them the same night,
Then the wheat had to be re bagged and re weighed and a mess to sweep up as well. It was usual for us to work in pairs loading onto a wagon with a short stave of wood under the end of the sack , it saved ripping ya finger nails and easier to swing up to that height. At the mills where the wheat went they had chain hoists and sack trolleys to move them about, it was only on the farms where it was only a few heavy days work a year on that job that it was all done by man power, and thankfully it was only few more years that combines came in and bulk harvesting was here to stay.

Needless to say all this heavy lifting and carrying was sure to take a toll on the health of the individual, the evidence of which you can see at any gathering of older farmers, bowing legs and far from an upright stance. The old saying "hard work never killed anyone" is right up to a point, as most who have done graft all their working lives, have also eaten well, and very often healthily.

Through all the days of rationing in the forties and fifties, we always had eggs beef pork and bacon, old hen, nowadays called chicken, rabbit, goose, turkey, and always grew potatoes. Every garden in the village, be it farm or cottage always had a sizable patch for vegetables a pig sty and hens. If you were lazy, you did not eat so well.



God gives every bird its food, but he does not throw it into its nest.J. G. Holland

A Bit Long in the Tooth 6

A Bit Long in the Tooth

I know this is up to date but it will give you an insight into the bloke who's writing this blog. I am trying to see myself as others may see me, in other words a reflection.

He's had seventy years in farming, getting a bit long in the tooth, although he's still got all his own teeth, moving a bit slower, standing a bit shorter, gone grey on top and can see his scalp through thin hair, got no work in him, looked after by his misses too well for his own good, and now got a new arm chair.

I Will Describe This Man I See

I will describe this man I see,

as best as I can judge,

When he sits down to have a rest,

job to make him budge,

This he does each afternoon,

till cup of tea at three,

Then slowly moves and back to work,

peel him off settee. ( New chair now)

He used to have to duck his head,

to go through six foot door,

Getting round shouldered,

natural bend, don't duck any more,

Gone all grey, and going thin on top,

you see his scalp when wet,

Forehead getting higher,

no longer does he sweat.

When he gets a grump ,

his lips turn down, jutting out his chin,

Eyebrows drop and looks through them,

to run you must begin,

Its just a passing cloud I think,

the sun comes out and smiles,

Can just see his teeth,

and the gap, nothing them defiles.

Lazy comes to mind sometimes,

but then he's getting old,

Hasn't got his dad now,

to crack the whip and scold,

His own boss, do what he likes,

no one to whip him up,

All the ploughing matches been to,

he's only won one cup.

Another clue to who it is,

he had an operation on his knee,

Then he had another just the same,

on the other you see,

Metal joints he had fitted,

these clues give you the key,

Must be why I'm shorter now,

for in the mirror, it's only me.

Owd Fred

 I was lucky enough to have a new arm chair for me birthdee. I was allowed to choose it and try it so there would be no moaning. Not that I ever moan, but I make exception about what they had to pay for it (moan), but then if I can have it for the next thirty years I suppose it will be okay.
Oh now when I wake up in me chair, I find that the grandchildren have stuck the fridge magnets on my metal knee's. and they frighten themselves to death when they're trying out the new metal detector.
It takes the best part of a minute (moan) to get out of it when its in the extreme prone position, and when they bring a hot cup of tea, nobody wants to wait while I recover and sit up enough to be able to hold it, and when someone knocks the door (moan), they're just off out of the gate in the car by the time I get to them.
So the chair has some drawbacks, but by god it is comfortable.

This Comfortable Chair of Mine

Now I've turned seventy years of age,

the family bought a chair,

I had it for me birthdee,

I was consulted and aware,

Had to have a go try it out,

to make sure it did the job,

High enough back n' foot rest,

n' not too soft a squab.

Its huge when it stands there,

and a cable from the plug,

A controller in ya right hand,

and I fit in it nice and snug,

A button to lift ya feet up,

and a button to lower the back,

And one to lift you up again,

was soon getting into the knack.

Now I fear a power cut,

when me feet are up in the air,

Back is down and ya feel a clown,

and conner git art o' the chair,

Like blady big tortoise on its back,

belly up swinging ya feet,

Shouting fa help come and get me,

help me git art o' this seat.

This hasn't happened but I fear,

could when I'm home alone,

Going to sleep that is easy,

but then I shouldn't moan,

If someone knocks at the door,

takes a while to lift me right up,

They knock again and again,

I feel like a fly blown old tup.

I must tell you the cover is leather,

cow hide has gone into that,

The cost of it was tremendous,

the cow she must have been fat,

What we paid we got short changed,

insides of the cow had gone,

Price of the chair, price of a cow,

beef and steaks we had none.

Now I've got well used to it,

my inhabitations flew out of the door,

Sit in it after my lunch and tea,

go to sleep and have a good snore,

My appreciation what they bought,

it suits me down to the ground,

Thank my family again and again,

this comfortable chair they found.

Owd Fred

It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than open it and remove all doubt.
Quotation by Mark twain (1835-1910)