This week they have chosen RETIREMENT as the prompt.
I have just retired for the last time and it was an easy decision to make, although, in some ways, it was the hardest decision to take.
I would have difficulty in telling you how many times I have retired. It depends how you define retirement.
In simple terms I have retired three times.
Firstly, I retired at age 45, having served 28 years 151 days in the British Army. I know that because I have a little red book to tell me so!
I would have preferred to carry on serving but, quite naturally, in a time of cutting the numbers of serving personnel, preference had to be given to younger, more active, men and women.
I retired from paid employment at the age of 64, a year earlier than normal at that time. I was more than ready to retire because my role was stressful and overworked, although I enjoyed it tremendously.
Retirement from MHA (Methodist Homes)
With my newly found leisure I volunteered to become a trustee of a local charity that had been providing housing for ladies and gentlemen of modest means since 1708. I have been honoured to serve, alongside my fellow trustees, for the last nine years, the last five and a half years as an active Chairman of the Board of trustees.
The United Charities of Abel Collin
My latest, and final, retirement was necessary due to ill health. I had probably (definitely according to my wife) not resigned early enough but I felt that I would be letting down my fellow trustees and the near 100 residents that we served.
Today, I received a magnificent bouquet of flowers from the charity. I will cherish these blooms but, more than those, I will cherish all the lovely tributes I have received from my fellow trustees.
Colleen’s post today, on The Chatter Blog, entitled Until You Can’t prompted me to write a Rapid Rhyme which I have decided to call (surprise, surprise)……….
This needs no introduction whatsoever, other than to say what a wonderful tribute it is.
Seventy Five Years In The Passing..A D-Day Tribute. Seventy five years in the passing, The 6th of June; brave troops amassing. Nobody knew how countless would pay, For saving our souls that proud D-Day. From hillsides, valleys, towns & moors, They set off, leaving British shores. A rendezvous of military purpose, They called it Piccadilly…
46 to choose from. Therein lay the clue to the lost treasure! It was all there in the Last Will and Testament of old Aunt Agatha. She’d written that, in these books, I would find a wealth beyond measure. Only after finishing “The Great Hunt” did I get it. Reading was the treasure!
For Paddy, and all those unsung heroes who are the salt of the earth, thanks to Colleen for introducing some of them to us.
We approached an Irish monument. I’m always excited to see the world as it used to be, or relics of it and use my imagination to create how I think it was. It was late in the day and only stragglers wandered about. As I stepped through the gates I could see an elderly man […]
Quokkas twice in a day has to be some sort of record.
Apart from that, this is really lovely, and well worth a look at the original too. There are some nice people around, and you don’t have to look far to find them!
Recently Sunny Skyz posted a collection of the most wholesome tweets of 2018. I’m recycling a few of my favorites here. See them all here.
Well, that gives plenty of scope. Practically every single artist will, at one time (see what I did there?) , have recorded a song with some time reference in it.
I am going with the very first thing that came to mind. That is “My grandfather’s clock.”
You can, if you wish, follow the words with the recording by Johnny Cash, which is here.
My Grandfather’s Clock
Song by Johnny Cash
My grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf So it stood ninety years on the floor It was taller by half than the old man himself Though it weighed not a pennyweight more
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born And was always his treasure and pride But it stopped, short never to go again When the old man died
Ninety years without slumbering His life seconds numbering It stopped, short never to go again When the old man died
My grandfather said that of those he could hire Not a servant so faithful he found For it wasted no time and had but one desire At the close of each week to be wound
And it kept in its place, not a frown upon its face And its hands never hung by its side But it stopped short, never to go again When the old man died
It rang and alarmed in the dead of the night An alarm that for years had been dumb And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight That his hour for departure had come
Still the clock kept the time with a soft and muffled chime As we silently stood by his side But it stopped short, never to go again When the old man died
Ninety years without slumbering His life seconds numbering It stopped short, never to go again When the old man died
Songwriters: Erich Doll / Henry Clay Work
However, I also offer this instrumental version by Leroy Troy. I don’t think he gets out much, apart from performing his clawhammer style of banjo playing!
"If only half of the history that has happened in Nottingham had happened in some other place, that place would be famous; but because it did happen here no one knows".
Photo by Mikechie Esparagoza at Pexels.com
Helen’s theme this week is 