Retirement looms dimly on the far horizon

I have been at my place of work since 1985, since before there were any patients and of those of us who were there at that time there are only 2 left.

I'm now at the centre of a string of jokes about growing old/seniors cards/returning as a patient etc etc. And what really cracks me up is people are "congratulating" me about my new soon to be downgrading from full time grade 3 to part time grade 2. As I tell all who ask..I just couldn't come at cold turkey retirement...so I'm easing my way out.

Today I have downloaded 3 things...an application for a Senior's Card(!!!!!) and 2 new pix to the right hand side of this blog. Potty humour of course.

What follows is a poem by Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple

with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired

and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

and run my stick along the public railings

and make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

and pick the flowers in other people's gardens

and learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

and eat three pounds of sausages at a go

or only bread and pickles for a week

and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

and pay our rent and not swear in the street

and set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

ok..break out the purple!