Similarly, when you show family members photos and they assume the girl is my sister - only to be told it is our mother (the photos were pre-war black and white).When you realise you’ve probably only got another twenty years or so to finish off your extensive family history research and present it as an illustrated document for your children and grandchildren. Only then can you get rid of the large number of files and scraps of paper you have amassed over the last few decades.
Worse still when you are putting things by because you think it would be nice for them to have but they ask why you haven't skipped them.Also: When your children start making less than subtle hints about things around the house that they would like you to leave for them after your demise.
I was equally horrified when I was 23 andIn the early days of COVID I was horrified to be ushered past the queue at the supermarket 15 minutes before the end of the special hour for the elderly and vulnerable - I was only 52 at the time!
Beats being part of the main course!Now I'm 80 and one's social life seems to revolve around the crematorium buffet...
When you put the shoes on at home, try double knotting them. Modern laces seem so slippery. (But it's more work getting the shoes off at the end of the day.) Or swop the laces for a same length pair from shoes that wore out long ago.I wish someone would tie my shoelaces: if they come undone in town, I just have to walk around like that unless there is a wall at just the right height. The alternatives are kneeling down and being unable to get up again without help, bending over and collapsing, and trying to lift my leg onto something of the wrong height and toppling over sideways.
I always buy my laces from Timpsons, who offer a choice between round and flat laces.Modern laces seem so slippery.
I wish someone would tie my shoelaces: if they come undone in town, I just have to walk around like that unless there is a wall at just the right height. The alternatives are kneeling down and being unable to get up again without help, bending over and collapsing, and trying to lift my leg onto something of the wrong height and toppling over sideways.
In a similar vein, don't start reading memorial plaques on benches. Especially if those benches, at regular intervals, are a great help nowadays!You see someone’s age at death in their obituary and think, “S/he was younger than me.” It used to be, ”That’s not too bad an age to reach”.
No, my mother does it, then complains about how she can't sleep at night.When you find yourself "nodding off" for hours on end during the day......or is that just me..
In my very much younger days, the first thing that my great aunts would turn to in the evening newspaper was the obituary column.
You know you're getting old when ..... you can recall a Two Ronnies sketch where they count up the number of 'peaceful' and 'sudden' deaths in the Times or Telegraph obituary column, but you can't remember the punchline or find it on Youtube.I once had a work colleague -- a great (and repetitive) exponent of corny humour -- who had a favourite anecdote about the chap who, very first thing every day, would look at the obituaries in the morning paper: if he didn't find himself featuring there, he would get up and commence getting on with his day.
When was that? I lived in London 1952-1971 and it was like that during all that period.When you can remember London before it became a crime ridden dump controlled by cartoon gangs.
I have friends who are at Uni and nap during the day, if that helps you feel youngerWhen you find yourself "nodding off" for hours on end during the day......or is that just me..
I once heard of someone arriving at Cambridge University who heard a noise outside their window one night. It was a very elderly professor who was on the lawn with a spade, cutting worms in two, and shouting 'You haven't got me yet!'.I once had a work colleague -- a great (and repetitive) exponent of corny humour -- who had a favourite anecdote about the chap who, very first thing every day, would look at the obituaries in the morning paper: if he didn't find himself featuring there, he would get up and commence getting on with his day.
Thought Casey Jones was a TV series about some late 19th century midwest American railroad engineer. Don't really remember it being a one-time railway station fast food outlet from BR days.When you find out people don't know who the casey Jones was and have to explain it. See Waterloo retail thread