Still sore in places I shall not mention, this is to be expected so I have been informed; mainly by those who have witnessed the experience of like sufferers but not suffered themselves. Having woken from my op, my first reaction was I had been kicked in the goolies by a horse.
I cannot record any moments of joy or hilarity during my stay in Gosford hospital despite the overall high efficiency of the staff, particularly a male nurse originally from Sri Lanka. On the down side was blonde 40 nurse vinegar tits, to whom I smilingly delivered a sentence of well chosen words on my departure.
The after care has been provided by nearest and dearest and calls from the community nurse. Today I shall venture forth to the shops, the walking may assist my present sluggish gait.
I have not had a 'Drink' for 27 days, water and tea yes. I have now lost seven kilos within the same time frame, I am also eating less but enough, hopefully the trend will continue.
Here is a timely reminder of the past. and if any teenagers are reading this particulaly over indulged 'P' platers, consider yourselves lucky you were not around 67 years ago.
My First Career
On 5 January 1942, I went to Shotley Royal Naval Base for a medical
examination, which I passed despite being under the height requirement
of five feet. I was four feet ten and a half inches, six stone six lbs (42.3 kg),
and fifteen years, five months and twenty days old. I was an under-sized,
under-aged piece of ‘cannon fodder.’ The school received a twenty-five
pound Sterling bounty payment upon my delivery to the Royal Navy.
My body was sold for approximately 55p or Aus $1-15 a Kilo or 30 cents
U/S per lb.
After a gruelling train journey to Fleetwood (near Liverpool,) I
embarked in the early morning on the Isle of Man steam packet, ‘Rushen
Castle’. It took four hours to get to Douglas, the capital and main port on
the Isle of Man. I hadn’t been at sea for four years.
Looking piteously at the first-timers berleying on the boisterous Irish
sea, I was reminded of my first experience of sea sickness on a
Portsmouth to Isle Of Wight ferry in 1938 the ‘Lorna Doone,’ a coal
burning paddle steamer that smelled of beer, egg sandwiches, and tarred
rope. I believe it was put to good use evacuating soldiers from Dunkirk
(Dunkerque) France in June 1940.
The Bible in my possession said, ‘To John Leonard Spencer on the
Feast of the Epiphany, 7 January 1942.” It was signed by the Rev.
Harling. I often wonder if the Rev. Harling ever made it to heaven.
Some of the other entrants who wore sailor’s gear like mine were from
other navy schools. Some wore civilian clothes. It was Wednesday, 7
January 1942. I was now a boy, 2nd Class RN. The Americans had beaten
me to this war thing by thirty-one days, but I was better prepared than
most for my next encounter with a new type of authority.
Now click on the book picture.
'Waving Goodbye to a Thousand Flies'. By J L Spencer.
Click the Book Pic at top right for Purchase info. Vest has received more books from the publisher, and more will arrive before Xmas, Email me for a Quote for a signed copy, AUSTRALIAN READERS $26..00. Overseas approx $29..00 - $31..00.
Wednesday, 7 January 2009
Happy New Year Everyone.'Vest is Back'
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Vest Has Left the Building
To advise that Vest (Les Bowyer) passed away this morning. Regards, Chris (Son).
In future ALL posts on this Site will have a section to be known as 'OPEN FORUM. this is to be introduced as from now and a reminder of ...
I was close to home when I saw the Coal delivery man open our front gate. I watched as the big lurcher dog from the mill mounted one of Aunt...
The following prompts are the words for this Wednesday. Glinting. Crop. Valley. Particular Cave Deliberately. Caldera. Merlin. Uni...
Happy New Year to you Vest - glad to hear you are still around and kicking ... even if the prancing and dancing is a little slowed up.
I hope 2009 will be a great one for you and yours.
Hi Dad, I am glad to hear you are up and well and back to your well self again, we were all very worried for you. The children were very happy to hear that you are recovering and also for their Christmas gift in your card that you sent to me which have been forwarded to them. Love you DAD - David.x
Get well soon, John. That was funny. Nurse vinegar tits.
John Leonard Spencer
I sure wud not like to go through life with that handle
I have a short one
only 4 letter 'Saby'
the best words in the english lang are 4 letter words
ant way I am glad 2009 will not be verry diff from 2008
I hate change
having to change undies, panties
(I like dem soiled pink)
finding new friends
Ya I too wont change
no matter what
Well I hope you had a balst on the Isle Of Man
yeyyyyyyy Vesty is back all healthy and well :) HUGS n WB! Happy New Year too!
Im glad ur surgery went well. So they say u'll be 10yrs younger now? :)
I been re reading your book
came to the part of your first time
and i recalled mine
it happened verry late
I was 27
Doris was 36
it was paid for
only 25 INR
but she was a great teacher
and she made me do it again and again (with no extra charge)
until I got it right
and I fell in love
I miss Doris verry much
Aggie: First to call most times, thanks.x.
David #3 son: Nice to hear from you.
Keshi: It will be a few more weeks before I am back to normal, it all depends on what is to be considered normal.x.
Jimmy: It seems you have been busy flogging your plonker.
BABOOSHKA: I am struggling with the word BALST, but I do get a feeling there is a bong connection, which is why it is not familiar. Thank you for your call, I have also posted on your blog.
One way to get the message around, There is no God.
London: About 800 buses bearing the slogan, "There's Probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy yourself", set off on Britains roads on Tuesday in an atheist campaign responding to a set of Christian ads. The $288,000 campaign which will also target London's Underground system, was paid for by public donations, the British Humanist Association said.
I'm Fine - How are you?
There's nothing the matter with me,
I'm just as healthy as can be,
I have arthritis in both knees,
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.
My pulse is weak, my blood is thin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
All my teeth have had to come out,
And my diet I hate to think about.
I'm overweight and I can't get thin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
And arch supports I need for my feet.
Or I wouldn't be able to go out in the street.
Sleep is denied me night after night,
But every morning I find I'm all right.
My memory's failing, my head's in a spin.
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
Old age is golden I've heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder, as I go to bed.
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
And my glasses on a shelf, until I get up.
And when sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself,
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?
The reason I know my Youth has been spent,
Is my get-up-and-go has got-up-and-went!
But really I don't mind, when I think with a grin,
Of all the places my get-up has been.
I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Pick up the paper and read the obits.
If my name is missing, I'm therefore not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast and jump back into bed.
The moral of this as the tale unfolds,
Is that for you and me, who are growing old.
It is better to say "I'm fine" with a grin,
Than to let people know the shape we are in.
I AM FINE HOW ARE YOU ?
get well soon grandpa
i love you heaps :)
Twas the month after Christmas,
and all through the house,
Nothing would fit me,
not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled,
the chocolate I'd taste
and the holiday parties
had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scales
there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store
(less a walk than a lumber),
I'd remember the marvellous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,
The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."
As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt...
I said to myself, as I only can,
"You can't spend a winter, disguised as a man!"
So, away with the last of the sour cream dip.
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip.
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won't have a cookie, not even a lick.
I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick.
I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie.
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore...
But isn't that what January is for?
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all, and to all a good diet.
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