Reading someone else's blog made me think how i feel about having to admit that I need a stick.
I carried a rolled up umbrella all sumer rather than admit I needed a stick, I live on the sunshine coast of essex where it never rains,  so I did get a few remarkes about it. (exspecting rain ? here comes mary poppins ect) but I let it go over my head. I was adamant that I was too young for a stick.
Then I remember'd grandads walking stick,or is it great grandads. My dad always refererd to it as grandads walking stick so perhaps it was his grandads. Three years ago when my dad died I found it verry hard as I supose most people do, but one of the few things I could bring myself to keep was grandads stick. It had been in dads shed all my life and i am aproaching 60, I took it home and put it in my shed assuming that is where it would stay untill one of my kids took it and put it in her shed.
  This is no ordenary stick it is a thin, I think rosewood cane with a silver band on whitch is embosed a shotgun and a brace of phesants toped with a carving in bone or ivory of a dogs head snarling.(I will try to upload a picture to my media)
Since I have been using the stick I quite often get the feeling I dont actualy need it now,but i never leave the house without it, even just walking to the car parked on the drive I take the stick.
It has become like a third legg even though I have two perfectly good ones. It does not make me feel old like the rolled up umbrela did it makes me feel,,,I think the word that sums it up is dapper and I walk twice as far and fast with the stick. Its all a bit confusing, hey ho 

just a quicky to let all my freind know i am still alive,got lots of catching up to do hope to speak to you all soon 

I’m thinking of buying a vest.

I’ve reached that time of life.

When I can slurp drinking a cup of tea.

And eat peas off of me knife.

I can start being rude to children.

And I’m learning to cough and spit.

I’m really quit looking forward.

To being a doddery old gitt.

I’ll grow a yellow moustache.

And force me grand kids to give me a kiss.

And I’ll buy a pair of them trousers

That permantly smell of piss.

I’ll bump into people in the street.

And hit them with me brolly.

And then I’ll go into Sainsberys.

And play havoc with me trolley.

I can buy a plastic shopping bag.

And let the handles fray.

And drink mild and bitter.

And moan if a’v to pay.

I’ll loos control of me bladder.

And get one of them bags instead.

So when I’ve a’d ten pints at night.

I don’t have to get out of bed.

So I’m going to be a doddery old git.

Just as soon as I can.

Or failing that I’ve half a mind

To be a dirty old man.

A true story and its source was the Australian Quarantine Inspection Service in Adelaide. A bloke and his family were on holidays in the United States and went to Mexico for a week.  An avid cactus fan, the man bought one-metre high, rare and expensive cactus there.  On arrival back home Australian Customs said it must be quarantined for 3 months. 

He finally got his cactus home.  Planted it in his backyard, and over time it grew to about 2 metres.  One evening while watering his garden after a warm spring day, he gave the cactus a light spray.  He was amazed to see the plant shiver all over, he gave it another spray and it shivered again.

A true story and its source was the Australian Quarantine Inspection Service in Adelaide. A bloke and his family were on holidays in the United States and went to Mexico for a week.  An avid cactus fan, the man bought one-metre high, rare and expensive cactus there.  On arrival back home Australian Customs said it must be quarantined for 3 months. 

He finally got his cactus home.  Planted it in his backyard, and over time it grew to about 2 metres.  One evening while watering his garden after a warm spring day, he gave the cactus a light spray.  He was amazed to see the plant shiver all over, he gave it another spray and it shivered again.

I had one escape from reality
That used to be my dreams
To drift away to that subconscious world
 Where nothings what it seems

Lots of dreams I remember
 And some im pleased to forget
 Some of them were scary 
And some of em was wet

Then I caught insomnia
 And found I couldn’t sleep
 It were my doctor that suggested
I should take up counting sheep.

Well it seemed to work at first
Id nod off when Id counted a few
 But in my dream I fell in love
With this sexy little yew.

We would graze the grass together
 And do other sheep like pursuits
 And do disturbing things
involving Wellington boots.
 
so I decided to become a shepherd
Bought a dog a crook and a hat
 But walking the streets of Ipswich
I felt a proper prat.

My insomnia soon came back
I were scared to go to sleep
 I new as soon as I closed my eyes
 Id dream of bloody sheep.

Occasionally when Im awake
 I think of my sexy yew
 And I sometimes write er a love song
 When iv ad a few.

But I think Im quite cured now
My obsession has run its course
 I ad er again in my dream last night
 But this time with mint sauce.

Sorry i hav not been around for a wile i still read most days and make the ocasional comment but not bloging at the moment but its nice to see what you ar all up to. I will be back thanks for not wiping me off your friends lists M.P 

Sorry ive been away so long and thanks for all the good wishes and private mesages,I do pop in most days for a few mins so i think i know whats going on but i sure i have a lot of catching up to do. i will be back verry soon

DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME 
Thanks for asking
I feel much better now
I got through another week
I really don’t know how.
 
Thanks very much for asking
The old troubles back again
I’m not one to talk about it
 I’m no stranger to pain. 

The doctor say my prostrate
is a miracle to behold
but I’m not one to complain
I know I wont grow old

 But thanks for asking
now its just pill after pill
but you’ll never hear me moan
even though I’m constantly ill. 

I s’pose I shall struggle on
 until the bitter end
I don’t mind the pain
me and pain are like old friends

 Me haemorrhoids don’t bleed as much
as they used to do
I’m still a martyr to arthritis
and I’ve just had Asian flu 

The doctor say I’ve got a syndrome
I dint quite catch its name
and it doesn’t really hurt that much
it’s just one extra pain. 

I know I’ve got some illnesses
I haven’t yet been told
Just look inside my hank’y
how’s that for a cold

 you don’t have to worry about me
I’ll probably be all right
As long as I take me tablets
I’ll probably last the night 

But thanks for asking
I’ll survive I’m sure
But I just cant understand
Why no one asks no more.