I
have decided that this is to be the last epistle that I will promulgate
by email. Now .... sort that out ... and at 83 yo and on the verge
of senile incapacitation, I can still elucidate !
From now on; if I survive, I will do this page as a kind of annual
diary, but I will not send out any emails, or cards. Those who are interested
will note the site addy & visit each year.
Not been a bad year; other than a month where I had a bad back & a bad knee. Had to call the GP out. All sorted now.
With such a paucity of events, this is going to be a bit boring !
But then, so sad to say, mid-October, I had two "heart warnings". Both
after I had done "Good Samaritan" acts. Got to look after myself &
stop "running for the bus", Hohoho! Not getting any younger. On
top of that, I have become quite short tempered & experiencing
memory loss (? early signs of dementia ?). So, I am aging as all
of us do.
Been
thinking of my age, and trying to express how I feel. I think it is it
is just that I'm "waiting to go home !" The Hamlet soliloquy opposite
summarises my imagery, & I have videoed my version of it.
The cleaner who robbed me eight
years ago, and went on to rob three other pensioners of over £30,000,
has been given community service as a punishment !
For those who have a strong stomach, here is 30 minutes of me playing my Tyros 4. I did it to shame Carl into doing a CD for me.
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Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
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