Friday, 16 August 2013
Remembering The Cheese Of My Childhood
I remember the cheese of my childhood,
and the bread that we cut with a knife,
When the children helped with the housework,
and the men went to work, not the wife.
The cheese never needed an ice chest,
and the bread was so crusty and hot,
The children were seldom unhappy
and the wife was content with her lot.
I remember the milk from the Billy,
with the yummy cream on the top,
Our dinner came hot from the oven,
and not from the fridge in the shop.
The kids were a lot more contented,
they didn't need money for kicks,
Just a game with our mates in the paddock,
and sometimes the Saturday flicks.
I remember the shop on the corner,
where a pen'orth of lollies was sold
Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic,
or is it...I'm just getting old?
I remember when the loo was the dunny,
and the dunny-man came in the night,
It wasn't the least bit funny
going out the back with no light.
The interesting items we perused,
from the newspapers cut into squares,
And hung on a peg in the outhouse,
it took little to keep us amused.
The clothes were boiled in the copper,
with plenty of rich foamy suds
But the ironing seemed never ending
as Mum pressed everyone's duds
I remember the slap on my backside,
and the taste of soap if I swore
Anorexia and diets weren't heard of
and we hadn't much choice what we wore.
Do you think that bruised our ego?
or our initiative was destroyed
We ate what was put on the table
and I think life was better enjoyed.
Tag:nostalgicpoem
and the bread that we cut with a knife,
When the children helped with the housework,
and the men went to work, not the wife.
The cheese never needed an ice chest,
and the bread was so crusty and hot,
The children were seldom unhappy
and the wife was content with her lot.
I remember the milk from the Billy,
with the yummy cream on the top,
Our dinner came hot from the oven,
and not from the fridge in the shop.
The kids were a lot more contented,
they didn't need money for kicks,
Just a game with our mates in the paddock,
and sometimes the Saturday flicks.
I remember the shop on the corner,
where a pen'orth of lollies was sold
Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic,
or is it...I'm just getting old?
I remember when the loo was the dunny,
and the dunny-man came in the night,
It wasn't the least bit funny
going out the back with no light.
The interesting items we perused,
from the newspapers cut into squares,
And hung on a peg in the outhouse,
it took little to keep us amused.
The clothes were boiled in the copper,
with plenty of rich foamy suds
But the ironing seemed never ending
as Mum pressed everyone's duds
I remember the slap on my backside,
and the taste of soap if I swore
Anorexia and diets weren't heard of
and we hadn't much choice what we wore.
Do you think that bruised our ego?
or our initiative was destroyed
We ate what was put on the table
and I think life was better enjoyed.
Tag:nostalgicpoem
Current Mood: 
Accomplished
Accomplished
The Blonde & The Redhead
THE BET ~
A blonde and a redhead met in a bar after work for a drink and were watching the six o’clock news. A man was shown threatening to jump from the Brooklyn Bridge. The blonde bet the redhead $50 he wouldn't jump, and the redhead replied, "I'll take that bet!" Anyway, sure enough, he jumped, so the blonde gave the redhead the $50 she owed.
The redhead said, "I can't take this, you're my friend." The blonde said, "No. A bet's a bet. You won the money."
So the redhead said, "Listen, I have to admit, I saw this on the five o'clock news, so I can't take your money."
The blonde replied, "Well, so did I, but I never thought he'd jump again!"
CRIME OF PASSION ~
A blonde suspects her husband of cheating on her. She goes to his apartment to check on him, and sure enough, she opens the door to find him in the arms of a buxom redhead. The blonde is furious and shattered by his utter duplicity. Overcome with emotion, she brings out a gun and points it at her own temple.
The husband yells "No, don't do it! I'm sorry! I love only you!"
She cocks the hammer and screams, "Shut up! You're next!"
Tags:blonde,redhead
Current Mood: 
Amused
Amused
The Wing Of Life
It
was one of the most interesting documentary I have seen, 'The Wings of
Life', produced in Spain, directed by Antoni P. Canet. A visual and
audio collection of testimonies of Carlos Cristos, a medico doctor,
whose reflections are more of a philosopher, on life and existence.
At the age of just 47, Dr. Carlos Cristos was diagnosed with multiple and systematic atrophy - a terrible neurodegenerative disease that goes progressively paralysing him in all areas, mental and physical, until his death. There's no treatment for this. He had to, therefore, confront his fatal destiny face to face.
With the intention of being useful to others in similar condition, he asked his friend, Antoni P. Canet, a film director not quite prolific, to make a documentary recording the last years of his life, before he entered the terminal phrase when he became incoherent or void of faculties.
The brave and admirable doctor, together with his wife Carmen Font, also a doctor, asked for a dignified end of his final existence, at the same time giving the spectators a lesson beyond price, of vitality and courage to confront the inevitable death.
Should you have the chance, it's a documentary well made, without self pity and over sentimentalism; well worth watching.
Current Mood: Accomplished
Accomplished
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