Welcome home Jem-lad. You live in a beautiful country so I can fully understand why you wanted to see more of it.
I’m sure you will have tales to tell and some of those new fangled Daguerreotype images to show us of your exploits, and I shall look forward to seeing both.
the sad case of Sir George Castledine! - I met this guy back in the mid '70’s. I was on a weeks secondment to Manchester University to observe their newly implemented nurse training program. George was younger than I but a bright shiny star. He was running a busy trauma unit at the Manchester Infimary and teaching the new university nursing neophytes as well. His career surged he became a doctor of philosophy ; was even knighted by the Queen and then the downfall - accused and found guilty of taking advantage of an elderly female patient and accepting thousands of pounds in ‘gifts’ from her. He was struck off the register but retained his knighthood title and probably his doctorate. Why does this happen ? - a glorious career of success and then comes crashing all down. I remember in the 70’s when I met him that he was a shining star but shining somehow too brightly and may burn out before his time?
Pain pain glorious pain
where does it come from
follow me to the brain
and there we will wallow
on cortexes hallows
and their with our sorrows
will be glorious pain!
you remind me of the guy who would go to the asian massage parlor in old HK. He hadn’t been for a while and he turns up and the madame greets him “ello long time no see - what you wanna fella”
he replies give me the good pain - she starts beating him and he says no no that’s the bad pain I said good pain.
she replied " you no been for velly long time; no give me any money - I give you bad pain first - you give me more money then I give you good pain no??
All that fuss and ado, sounds like a pain in the arse.
old chinese proverby say " painful arse come from sittin and bumpin for too long on the sur on?? "
regards Mr Seet Too Loung??
You’ve a Right Cheek There
My posterior You Care?
I’ll risk the rash
For the thrill of the Dash
I get the hump
(Sod the Rump)
Excitement one can’t Trump
Pain can be forgotten
Even in the Bottom
Cummon Sur ron
Lets get it on
We can get, a medical Fix
For damage to the Coccyx
You are very close with your diagnosis Mr Fire. It was my lower back and right hip in and around the “dimple” area. Alas it is a flare up of an old self inflicted wound caused when I lifted a breeze block incorrectly nearly forty years ago.
Nice poems, the both of you.
@spitfire - I was watching that michael portillo fella whizzin around the world on his trains but he also went to a uk factory still producing Triumph motorcycles robotically of course or was that robottomcally - not sure but it did my heart good to see those beautiful things ; magnificent things - no wonder they are called triumph - triumphantly I would say!! sur on indeed sur on nip pon where do they get these names from? more like kammie kazzie?
Thank you all for your kind words folks.
It’s great to see you all in such good form, great lively posts too, cheered men up no end. 
Talking of ends, goose grease is yer only man for a sore arse Spitty. 
And the Fruitcake is still as fresh as the day it came out out the oven.
You ladies would love the antique and secondhand shops in the small towns in the west of Ireland, Phyllis and the daughter are ornament mad and picked up lots of stuff they fancied, I got a great bargain on an Egyptian ring in 14ct. gold, the head of a Cobra with two tiny black onyx eyes, very unusual, I got it for €20 and I know a Moroccan dealer who collects this type of thing, if the price is right he can have it, It’s completely handmade and I reckon it’s over two hundred years old.
Portillo does a fine job on the railways program Gummy, he has a pleasant manner about him too, but why oh why does he dress in all the colours of the rainbow, pink jacket and green trousers for God’s sake, yellow trousers and purple jacket, surely to God they pay him enough to buy a suit all of the same colour, even if it is pink!.
It’s gone very cold over here today, had to light the fire at 6pm, I had the central heating on from earlier, I hate it as it always gives me a headache but the better half has the last word, anyway I’m sitting in me armchair now beside a lovely coal fire with a glass of port and a slim panetella cigar, incidentally the price of a 40 kilo bag of smokeless coal has jumped from €23 to €31 since last week, thanks to our green friends who ain’t from Mars either.
I have managed to mostly avoid all this war “News”, I’m not into any sort of politics, God knows we had enough political trouble and killing over here for decades, but I’m a firm believer in that old saying “The first casualty of war is the truth”, it has stood the test of time, when I saw the Russian station taken off the air I says to Phyllis “Goodnight, here we go again with the one sided stories that your obliged to believe or else you’re some kind of monster, Russians bombing hospitals, schools, orphanages etc., all I can say is the Ukrainian soldiers must be saints, they have been very good and harmed nobody so far, well if they did it would be on the news, wouldn’t it?
So dems me first and last words on that subject.
I noticed that poor old Bamber Gascoigne has passed away recently, I used to like him, he was ideal for that job, he looked like a perpetual student, God rest his soul.
My dear old Cousin Seamus who was deaf all his life, was one of the first deaf people to appear on the show back in the 70’s, his two colleagues introduced themselves as follows:
“Clive Huntsworth, St. Johns, Cambridge, reading chemistry.”
“Sheldon Franks, St. Rita’s, Oxford, reading civil engineering.”
Seamus Ryan, St. Josephs, UCD Dublin, reading lips.
I’ll sneak out the back way.
@Jem - ah I can feel the place warmin up already!! it reminds me of that lovely welcoming song " ah if ya irish come into the parlour - there’s a welcome here for you!" the number of times I must have heard that song in my youthful days in da 'pool - well we do claim to be the capital of Oiland heh? now if Pug and RJ was here and a few ladies we call all break into a chorus or two - Meg are ya ready lass? It’s a bit like makin a good soup in here - we add this and add that and stir it a bit and all taste it and the cry goes up - there’s summat missin - it needs more salt - well add a bit of Jem then - salt of the Irish earth and known to put a bit of spice in it all!! 
“Spice” are you trying Curry Favour?
" heh mon ave ya seen de curry favor
I’m tryin to spice de rice
but can’t find de curry favor?
chorus: can’t find de curry favor
can’t find de curry favor
I need to spice me life
'cause I’m soon to meet the saviour"
I need Spice, I need Spice
Coz I’m about to meat the Gravy’er
ya know I was flickin through these old electronic pages as you do from time to time when I came across an obituary for a dear old friend of mine - she had died two year ago and I hadn’t known - lost touch over the years - I recognized her immediately from her photo and read about all her achievements - she was a bit of a powerhouse in her day - labor through and through of course. we had once sent fairly regular emails with attached photos and I must have caught up with her the last time I was in UK some 20 yrs ago. Amazing isn’t it really - this thing called the internet - it seems to have plenty of holes in the net and sometimes we fall through and are forgotten in the fast pace of well the internet. It’s not really the internet that brings us together is it - it’s our own souls and hearts and minds and determinations?? - just sayin??
There is a lot to think about Gummy, its just about finding the right time.
spitty is this the graveyard shift?? and if ya lose ya spice does it mean ya can’t spit fire no more and and and ?? is time just an illusion?? oh christopher robin so so many questions and heh we’re lost in the forest again said Pug!
No way Gummy, this is a one way ticket, no one has ever expensed before, there is no default, just got to work out whose fault it is. 
