My 70th Birthday...... +2

 ......A very short history of my life. (I originally wrote this for my 70th birthday, but now edited for my 77th)

Yep, three score years and ten, plus another seven now, I made it! When I think back to what a journey it was to get here I reckon I was lucky 'cos it hasn't been too bad, yea, we all have our ups and downs but there weren't too many bad bits, I always managed to sidestep or body swerve any kind of trouble (maybe that's just another way of saying I didn't get caught), I've smoked a lot of fags, downed many a pint and back in the dark distant past I may have popped a few pills and smoked some dope but now, apart from the occasional pint, everything else has been kicked into touch in pursuit of a healthier lifestyle. Except for food, I do like my food!

Hobbies and stuff

Believe it or not, when I was younger, I was quite a shy lad (still am) and maybe could've done so much more with my life than I did had I not been, but I did achieve a few things along the way despite that.
I've always enjoyed the arty farty stuff, painting, drawing, dancing (oh yes! I used to trip the ol' light fantastic once), photography, music (I play guitar to a reasonable standard), and writing (I've got three books on Kindle).
Anything sporty I've always liked, I played football, but not that high a standard, just Sunday morning parks footie, I've done a few half marathons, some 10k's, and a fifteen miler, and frequented a few gyms over the years. I even helped to run a weight training class when I was in my early 20's. Blimey! No wonder my joints are knackered! (yeah, take note all you gym freaks out there)

Vocations

I left school in 1964 with no qualifications (except for one-third of an A level, but that's another story) and became a butcher, which lasted until 1982 when the trade went into a recession, a shame 'cos I really liked the job, but in today's vegan culture I would no doubt be frowned upon. 

With a newly acquired mortgage and a new baby, I needed to find a better-paying job, so I became a milkman (remember them?). At first, it was an easy job, up early, home early, and a reasonable wage, first with the Co-Op, then with Unigate. The Co-op then began to put up its rounds for franchises, so I returned to the Co-Op and bought one. That lasted for four years, and I made a lot of money, but it was hard work. In retrospect, it was probably partly instrumental in breaking up my marriage (that is also another story). I was now entering one of the low periods of my life and needed some job stability, to pay off a few debts if nothing else, so I joined London Transport as a bus driver, and that's how I finished my working life, eighteen years on the mean streets of South London and two years in the Southampton area. I also worked on landscape gardening for a few months in the summer of 1971, just before I got married. Plus, the odd part-time job here and there was my vocational history.

Relationships

In July of 1971, I was married to Sue. The marriage lasted until 1989 when we were divorced, but we still managed to produce a couple of kids, though. Before moving here to Gosport, I had a long-term relationship, which lasted till 2004. In 2005, whilst off work waiting to go into hospital, I met the lady on a dating site who eventually convinced me to leave The Smoke and move to Lee on the Solent and live with her, which I did, but unfortunately, that didn't last long, a year I think, before we split up but I decided to stay in sunny Hampshire and seek my fortune here. That was 2007, and after a few failed short-term relationships, I met Dawny. It took a few years, but I'd finally found my soul mate, and I have never been happier. (Anyway, I couldn't continue being a naughty boy, it was wearing me out 😉)

Family

All in all, I haven't had a bad life, I survived all the bad bits, and I almost, but not quite, feel at peace with myself (mental health gets in the way). Unfortunately, over the years, I lost four family members. In 1995, my Mum passed away, in 2016 my sister Sandy died, and in 2019 I lost my Dad. The fourth was my twin sister, Yvonne, who succumbed to breast cancer in 2004. I took that the hardest, needing ten sessions of counseling before I really came to terms with it. Sadly, she didn't make this journey with me; she's now on another journey of her own with Mum, Dad, and Sandy to keep her company (I bet that's a real hoot!), but there are times when I feel she's still here with me.
A broken relationship, being diagnosed with arthritis, and losing my twin sister, all in all, 2004 was not a very good year!

My son David and daughter Sarah both have their own families now and are pursuing their own paths in this hectic world, bringing up my six grandchildren between them (four for Sarah and two for Dave). Sadly, we lost our grandson Charlie to cancer in 2023. Now there's just me, Mandy, and Trey left of our little tribe.

Health

Over the years, my general health hasn't been too bad, but the onset of middle age brings its own problems; it's like my body is getting its revenge for everything I've put it through. 

Three hip replacements, a knee replacement, and an operation on my right shoulder plus worn discs in my back (believe me, airport security is a nightmare) brought me early retirement, not that I was complaining. A decent company pension and my savings saw me through till I reached state pension age. I've slowed down a tad but still manage to get out and about, mainly thanks to Dawny and a plethora of walking aids. Apart from that, my general health isn't too bad, so hopefully, I can manage a few more years on this mortal Earth (my old man made it to 94, so there's hope for me yet)

If you've got this far without nodding off, thanks for reading this very short summary of my life. Obviously, there's a whole lot more I could write, but how long have you got? More to the point, how much can I remember? No doubt there are some of you out there who have a few stories; if so, let's hear them.

Thanks to all of you, new friends and old,  who are still putting up with me and continuing to enrich my life even more.

Bless you all.

The Joys of Getting Old

I just went to the fridge to get some milk for my morning tea and there, on the top shelf, was the dishcloth I couldn't find yesterday evening, which brings me round to an amusing little ditty I was going to blog a while back.
On a rainy Sunday a while ago me and her took a coach trip to the lovely Lynton/Lynmouth in Devon, just as we crossed the Wiltshire /Devon border Dawny turned to me and said, "Say oooh?" Well, you know me I just love to humour her so I did as I was asked, she then said, "Now say arrrgh?" Once again I did as she asked, cos I'm good like that, "There ya go," she grinned mischievously, "Now you can talk to the locals!"

That made Oi larf!

We've made a few little trips out this year to various places in this beautiful country of ours, certainly beats following the sheople to a foreign country where they all lay on sunbeds strategically placed around a pool, in a hotel that's near a beach, etc etc etc, then come home and tell you all about it as if they were the only people ever to do a package holiday, Nah! Not for me anymore, been there done that!

The Isle of Wight, Hastings, Eastbourne, Pevensey, Keyhaven, New Forest, Lynton/Lynmouth, Telford, Ludlow, Ironbridge and Bath so far, mostly by car with a couple of coach trips thrown in, oops I was forgetting a day trip up the Big Smoke to visit grandson Charlie who was in hospital.
This coming week we have Heritage week here in Gosport with lots of walks and talks going on throughout the Borough, Dawny's booked us into a few of them.

On the 14th Sept. Ive been booked into a Scoot-about, no that's not on scooters, can you imagine a group of old farts pushing scooters along Haslar road because that's where we will be going but on our mobility scooters instead for a tour of the Haslar Peninsular wherever that is, then after that we'll be gearing up for our holiday in Scotland, Dawny's already got at least three suitcases ready for packing. I'll keep you updated about that, or should that be "aboot thart"  (there really should be some emojis on this blogging site)

Thats it for now amigos, take care out there

Fares please!!!

Fares please?

My days as a retired bus driver seems to be uneventful and rather boring these days, but that's not implying I'd want to go back to that thankless job, not bleedin' likely! No, but I could write a few anecdotes about my time as a bus driver, first for London bloody Transport and then for London bloody General (with a short spell at Bluestar bloody Buses from Eastleigh, Hants).

When you get in that cab after passing your PSV test you think you're king of the road but that feeling doesn't last long, you're soon pulled back to reality when motorists, truck drivers, cabs and even other buses all seem to want a piece of the road you occupy and they'll do anything to get it; bastards! Not only that, the mere fact that you're driving a bus makes you public enemy number one. If I wasn't verbally abused at least once a day then I considered I'd had a bad day.

They might be considered to be a London icon but the Routemasters, in my opinion, were shit to drive! First, you had to climb up into the cab with its wide steering wheel and handbrake lever, which looked like it had been nicked from a railway signal box, thank goodness I only ever drove one during my training.  Unfortunately, the worse was yet to come. The first bus I drove in service was this pile of junk shown here, the Daimler Fleetline or DMS as it was "affectionately" called by anyone who had the misfortune to drive one of these boneshakers. Thankfully they were taken out of service not long after I began my illustrious career as a Human Logistic Engineer.

The bus to take over from the DMS was the MCW Metro bus, after the previous pile of junk we then had this one, at the time it was like driving a Rolls Royce compared to the DMS, at least it had a smaller steering wheel and small handbrake lever as opposed to the signal box levers of the DMS and RM, but in hindsight, it was just as bad, they had a propensity to break down often they must've been an engineers nightmare. Their road holding was also suspect, even on a wet road, they tended to slide all too easy if the brakes were hit too hard.

From about 1996 onwards new buses such as Dennis Dart LDP's (single deck) and Volvo NV's (Double deck), were now being used, which meant low floor, disabled friendly buses, or so they were supposed to be until mums with pushchairs full of screaming kids and a weeks shopping found that they could just push their pushchairs on without having to fold them up blocking the aisle and getting in everyone's way before trying to justify that they had every right to be there, I had more altercations with these than anyone in all the time I was driving! Below are two routes that I had the displeasure to have driven and probably in those buses as well. When I left my employment with London General some LDP's (single deck) were still in service after 10 years and by that time there were vintage cars that were in better nick than they were, LG certainly got their money's worth out of them.

The Volvo NV (double-decker) seen below, wasn't low floor so pushchairs still had to be folded, and as I remember these buses were pretty nippy if a bit uncomfortable but still a million miles from the crap DMS of previous years. Whilst driving one of these I remember picking up some drunk guy in Croydon one night who was well known to us drivers, he was also well known for being quite a racist, unfortunately for him I had about a dozen or so passengers already on board and there wasn't a white face amongst them, the next 10 minutes or so whilst he was on the bus...Well, he was quite vociferous in his dislike for any non-whites and I had to try and keep him quiet for his own safety if nothing else but he kept spewing out his racist remarks, lucky for him the Asians on the bus either did a pretty good job of ignoring him or they didn't speak English. As I approached his stop he got out of his seat and stood by the exit doors still banging on about immigrants etc, "Good night driver..." he yelled, "I'll see you in the principals' office!" I opened the doors for him to alight and he did just that, he totally missed the steps and went sprawling onto the pavement, aint Karma a bitch? He got up, smiled, waved, and staggered off into the night, I bet he didn't remember that in the morning, serves him right.

In a similar vein, one Friday night I was doing a late turn on the 80's, as I was picking up passengers at Sutton Station some geezer, who was pissed as a parrot, staggered onto the bus and asked if I was going to Morden Underground, I told him I was but the route 164 was more direct and would get him there quicker, "Nah...!" he slurred, "This'll do!" and on he got, paid his fare (yes, we used to take money in those days) and went and sat down.

Twenty minutes later I pulled into Morden Underground forecourt, by now I'd forgotten about my inebriated passenger, I loaded up (always a busy time on a Friday night) and headed for Reynolds Close, Hackbridge where the bus terminated, bugger me if the drunk wasn't still on the bus; there he was head resting against the window snoring his head off, not for long though. I managed to wake him, "Are we at Morden yet?" He asked bleary-eyed, I told him we'd gone past his stop but if he sat in the seat behind the drivers' cab he wouldn't fall asleep again, that's because it was a bloody uncomfortable seat. He did as I asked, paid another fare, and off we went. 

As I approached the traffic lights at Middleton Rd they began to change so I accelerated then swung the bus to the right into St Helier Avenue, it was my last trip so I didn't want to spend time sitting at traffic lights. Suddenly I heard a loud thump,  my only passenger, (yep you've guessed it,) had slid off the seat hit the luggage rack then bounced off that into my cab door before ending up sprawled out in the door well, I looked down and asked him what he was doing down there all he could say was, "Are we at Morden yet?" "No we're not!" said I, "Get back in your seat!" Which he did. 

When we reached Morden Station I made sure he was off the bus before I let anyone on, he staggered off the rear exit doors waving to me as he went, after loading up with more passengers I was just about to close the doors when there he is standing at the door, "Now what?" I thought to myself, but no he didn't want to get on again, thank goodness for that! He just wanted to thank me for the ride and say goodnight, Jeez! He'd been charged two fares after missing his stop and bounced around the bus obviously bruising himself in the process and he wanted to thank me for it? I smiled and bid him goodnight he then turned around and walked into a lamppost. 

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************

A letter to my twin sister......

Dear Yvonne.

A  while ago on our birthday, I wrote a piece about you on this blog, it was just a small tribute to you and your life as a sister, mother, and wife, your good and bad bits, and how you're still missed.

It's now been twenty-one years since the Big C took you from us, and life has moved on, taking us all, your family, to different parts of the country and into other walks of life, but you've never been forgotten, Sis. Sometimes I sit and think about you and what might have been.

Well, I made it, yep three score years and ten, and a bit more, at times it was a long, hard slog, but there have also been many good times, it's just a shame you couldn't complete the journey with me. Sandy is now on that onward journey with you and Mum, and Dad is now there with you all, make sure he behaves himself.

At last, I've found someone who has made me feel happy and contented. Her name is Dawn, and we've been together for just over fourteen years. She's definitely my soul mate. She's met both Mandy and Trey, and they now treat her like a sister. And she has also met Dominique and Dave, plus other nieces and nephews. I know you would've liked her.

As I told you last time the family has expanded quite a bit since you left us, I have six grandchildren (Sarah has 4 kids sadly we lost our Charlie to cancer, and  Dave has 2) and you now have three, all Dominiques, Mandy has 5 and Sandy has 4, so there's quite a tribe, and they all seem to be growing up too fast. 

We've all had the usual trials, tribulations, and tragedies in our lives as we move slowly into our middle/old age, but thankfully, life right now is reasonably good for us all..

Missing you loads

Lot of Love XXX

Your loving brother, Dave

(Yvonne Sears, nee Fry. 1949-2004) Always loved, never forgotten.

Rustic lamb stew

Ingredients

1lb and half of diced/cubed lamb
400g canned chopped tomatoes
2 tbsp plain flour (you might need a little more than this)
2 cloves of garlic (crushed)
4 tbsp olive oil
170ml of white wine
150ml lamb stock
1/2 tsp salt
black pepper for seasoning


Method

Cook at high temperature.
Place flour in a bowl and season with black pepper.
Toss the lamb in the flour, coating each piece well.

Heat the oil in a pan and add lamb.
Cook for 4-5 minutes until lightly browned
Transfer to slow cooker.

Add a dash more oil then add garlic to pan and cook for 1 minute
followed by the lamb stock and white wine (I used red wine vinegar)
Bring to the boil stirring continuously.

Pour over the lamb in slow cooker then stir in chopped tomatoes
cover and cook for hour and half

Reduce heat and continue to cook for 6-8 hours until lamb is tender.
Serve with warm crusty bread (it says here)

ENJOY.