CeeCeeUK

Sorry, I meant to explain that you have typed 'While old folk like to complaint.' but I think you mean like to complain ....

Spring. long. weather. cold. complaint. old”. complaining. lot. day. Sorry, but I count 9 full stops, and complaint rather than complain. My aim was simply to help you.

Liked this but there is a typo - 'complaint' I think should be 'complain'? Personally I would lose the full stops too, and maybe on average a word a line. I created and managed an award winning online writers forum between 1999 and 2008 when MSN pulled the plug on hosting groups/communities so I hope that you don't mind a little constructive criticism!

No one to share it with now my partner has died, not that he was overtly romantic. I did write him a very corny Valentine poem (just submitted it in the Showcase section) that he was very touched by ....

Thanks for commenting, Kes. It is much appreciated.

We currently have 2 cockatiels (Squeaky and Sunny) and a pair of conures (Timmy and Abby). We used to have another cockatiel - Rikki but she died in 2015. She was the first bird the family had, bought for my Father who was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins and Leukaemia around 1989 and subsequently died in 1997 so Rikki must have been about 25 years old when she died. I bought her as a gift for my Father to take his mind off of his illness. Originally we went to get an African Grey but Dad fell in love with the cheeky cockatiel nearby instead so we got her. This started a chain of events that led to an entire room in the house being converted to a bird room as he then got another couple of cockatiels, assorted finches, several canaries, and a pair of love birds. Rikki was special though and she was located in the kitchen right next to my Dad. She had to try everything he had and sipped tea, lemonade, etc. Ate chicken, fish and her favourite ... mashed potato! My late partner (Ken) bought the conures and their huge cage whilst I was at work one day so I had no say in the matter! He bought them as they had finished as a breeding pair and their owner wanted to get rid of them so he said he got them as a good deal complete with the cage. They too will eat anything but their favourites are walnuts, chilli crackers, raisins, cornflakes, anything with butter on, and fortune cookies! Of the two remaining cockatiels, Squeaky was bred by Ken and arrived to replace my earlier cockatiel (Danny) who tragically died young. Danny was an exceptionally clever bird but poor Squeaky is well, a bit thick, charming at times although right now he's a bit of a grumpy old bird as he wants a new millet and I'm making him wait a while longer so he eats a balanced diet. The baby of the flock is Sunny who is a young female and still rather aloof - we bought her to cheer Squeaky up as he was chatting up Rikki but to no avail (although the old hen did like the attention we think) and thought he might have more luck with a younger bird - no luck there either; we think Sunny is playing hard to get! A few weeks after my partner, Ken, died we lost Rikki too. We decided to move the conures next to the two cockatiels as they were a bit isolated alone in the kitchen, and thought they might stop Squeaky in particular missing Rikki. Luckily we have a sizable bay window and after a bit of rejigging managed to get them in okay. As I write this all the birds are having a nap ... probably because they can see me busy on my computer and know that there is no food or treats in the offing, but you can bet that as soon as I move they will all be wide awake!

My GP closes every lunchtime for an hour and on Saturday and Sunday. There are 5 GPs and at least 2 receptionists so why they can't stagger their lunch breaks and open at least on Saturday morning I don't know! Getting an appointment within 3 or 4 days is impossible. The A&E department is less than half a mile away so you can understand why people go there instead. Luckily I personally have not had to try and see my GP for a couple of years but my late partner was in poor health and whenever we tried to get an urgent appointment for him we were often told to call an ambulance. We told the paramedics this, and the hospital, and they were not at all surprised when they looked at what GP practice he was with.

Something I started a while ago now but it might strike a chord with some of you .... Passport to Adventure - Part 1 There was much pushing and shoving in the excited queue of youngsters, most of it good-natured, borne of pent up anticipation of the fun to come. Sally was being pestered by snotty Steve who knew her from school and was jabbering on, pausing only to wipe the perpetual drip from his nose on his sleeve. "How much you got? I got two bob, cos I walked here and I helped Dad clean the windows yesterday." He proudly thrust an assortment of coins in his reluctant companion's face. "There's only one and nine there." Sally advised after habitually totting up the stash of cash. "I've got half-a-crown." She showed him two shiny shillings, a threepence and three pennies. "See. I helped MY Dad saw through some wood AND cleared out the guttering." Her pride at earning some money through such brave deeds was obvious. Steve was rummaging through his various pockets, searching in vain for his lost thrupenny piece. Drips from his perennially runny nose splattered on his clothes and the ground unchecked. "Ah! I wonder if … yeah - there it is!" He pulled a grubby bag of sweets from his secret hiding place, inside the actual lining of the tatty gabardine raincoat that he wore rain or shine. "D'ja want one?" He asked somewhat reluctantly. Sally peered into the bag curiously. "No thanks. I don't like clove sweets." She smiled. "And I wouldn't want to take your last humbug. I know they're your favourite." It was almost the truth; she didn't like the stripy red boiled sweets, and the humbug was sticky and covered in fluff. And, she suspected, half sucked. Especially as it was the sweet that the threepence piece had attached itself to. "Okay." He grinned, then put the humbug, coin and all, into his mouth. "There!" The coin had been released from its captor, and its proud owner carefully put it with the others. "You got any sweeties?" He asked, eyeing the podgy girl hopefully. "Those toffees were nice you had the other day-" "Sorry, they're all gone." She smiled at the tasty memory. "My aunty brought them back all the way from Devon for Gran, and she let me have some to try." "Oh pity." A hefty shove from behind sent Steve sprawling. "Oi! Pack it in you- " He spun round indignantly. His face drained; Basher Bruce was the guilty thug. "Oh sorry." "Get a move on drippy." The big Ozzie bruiser pushed him again. "The lines moving - look!" Sally had already shuffled ahead, anxious not to be stuck with sniffy Steve, and to avoid a brawl with the Australian monster behind them. Rumour was that his parents were both killers thrown out of the past penal colony because they were so evil. Bruce denied it, said they had returned to find their old family, even tried to persuade everyone that his father was a policeman. No one believed him, of course; he was such a liar about everything. Charming to the girls and a bully to the boys. His eyes were too close together too and his eyebrows met in the middle so he must be a crook. What really scared everyone were his pets. He kept lizards and snakes. Sometimes he had one in his pocket. This recollection made Sally squeeze through a gap in the bodies ahead to put as much distance between herself and him - just in case! "Ow!" A blonde head exclaimed. "Watch out Sally!" "Oh, sorry Mary." Sally smiled apologetically. "Just trying to get away from Bruce and Steve." "Get across here then." Mary glanced back anxiously. "We don't want to be stuck with either of them, do we?" Sally wriggled next to the pretty pony-tailed blonde girl. "No." She smiled gratefully. "You going up or down?" "Up. Not so noisy." "Yes, and cleaner." Sally liked the more expensive seats too. "You got enough this week?" Mary knew that Sally did not usually have as much cash as she did; her parents did not believe in pocket money and the plump girl had to earn her pennies. "I could lend you some…." "Thanks but I have plenty." Sally showed her hard earned cash. "I've been helping my Dad." By now the creeping crocodile of children had moved forward so much that the two girls were finally at the ticket office. "Circle please." Mary dutifully paid a sixpence and a thrupence. "Me too." Sally handed over a shilling. The lady in the office grunted irritably as she counted out three pennies in change. "Now or interval?" Mary asked glancing longingly at the hot dog and drinks stand. "Interval!" Sally was keen to get to the seats. "Yes, better then." Her companion agreed. The two girls scampered up the thickly carpeted stairs two at a time. A terrified usher was pinned against the door jamming it open as the hordes of excited children pushed past. The usual scramble for the treasured front seats was apparent. Sally and Mary avoided the frenetic scuffles and settled for two aisle seats halfway up. Sitting on their carefully folded coats for extra height, they waited somewhat impatiently for Saturday Morning Picture Club to start. To be continued ... maybe! © Christine L. Coles - October 2001

I was bright enough to pass the 11+ and attend a Grammar School but I was/am from a working class background; both my parents worked full-time and I was cared for by my Victorian (and very strict) grandmother. "Make do and mend" and "waste not want not" were very much golden rules of necessity for our family. My teachers expected me to take my 'A' levels and then go on to University (which was a real achievement back then and not commonplace like now) but I had to leave at 16 and get a job to help my family financially. I left on the Friday and started full-time work on the following Monday. Being a Grammar school girl certainly helped me get a better job then, and I am very grateful for that. I had to work hard at the Grammar School as the standards were initially very high, however, when our headmistress retired after 21 years of service, the replacement was appalling and the school went on a downward spiral. Many of the better teachers left and the handful of quality ones remaining did an excellent job against the odds in keeping most of us on track for a good education. I'm not an expert on modern day education but I think that anything that encourages children to work hard to release their talents and put them on the correct path for success - be it academic or practical should be applauded.

Like many others here I have paid my taxes and N.I. contributions through working full-time for over 40 years. I have never smoked, am teetotal but I do fall into the category as overweight/obese. I have not seen my GP for over two years and then it was for antibiotics for an inner ear infection that affected my balance. I do not think that I should pay extra for treatment. However, I do think that those who have NOT contributed to the NHS should pay.

My favourite as a 'grown up' is "All the way" but as a child I loved "High Hopes" and as for a duet it has to be "Well did you evah" from High Society.

If I want to see 'wobbly bits' I only have to look in the mirror!