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Tuesday, 11 August 2015


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Good to hear you are on the mend.

It's been a few years since I had a virus like that. No fun at all. I'm glad to hear you are better. Here's a mildly comforting thought: Usually, we are immune to these viruses after one experience, and their number, though large,is finite. It is only the new ones that can get us. That's why geezers, and even geezer trainees, like me, get sick less frequently as we age. Actuarily speaking, you may not get more than a couple more in this mortal life. Still, you ought to put a plastic bottle, about three quarters full of water, in the freezer. Set it in a bowl by the bed, and sip the melt, to stay hydrated and bring down the fever. Tylenol is bad for the liver, but it does not interfere with the immune system as much as NSAIDs, including even aspirin.Stay well.


Michael, thank you very much indeed for taking the trouble to post that comment. I think - I hope - the 'fever' - is over its worst but I will remember that tip about the water bottle - a slurp or two of iced water would have been delicious when I as in the middle of one of my sweats. So again, many thanks.

And thanks, Whiters, for your concern.

Sounds like malaria. You haven't been trekking through the jungle, have you?

David. You had more than your normal intake of vino colapso. This happens when you are approaching dotage. Stand to is at 0500hrs Cpl. The lame and the lazy will fall in to the rear for sick parade.

Not since circe 1962, Andra, and once was once too often for me!

"Vino collapso", Jimmy, if only!

Your Irish joke reminded me of a friend, now long deceased, who told me about his experiences as a youngster in t’oirish republic.
He, as the only one who could read, was given the job of laying out the marker stakes so the following road-gang could do their stuff. He was strolling down the road with a pile of wooden stakes on one shoulder and a large mallet on the other, when he was accosted by an idiot on horseback who was not pleased to see him: "what do you think you are doing!” He replied “I am the County Vampire Inspector”. Idiot rode off in high dudgeon, having not seen the funny side.

Alan, your late friend was a very witty fellow!

He had the gift of the blarney all right.
He was an Irishman who volunteered to serve with the RAF and ended up in Korea flying Vampires against MiG 15s. He was one of the very few to survive. I only found out because he had a photo on his kitchen wall of him standing beside a Tiger Moth. Being a flying nut I had to ask.
Can't resist another one of his stories from his youth.
Location: a clearing full of road making machinery. My mate doing the preparation before the days' work starts. In comes a bloke on horseback (this must have been in the 1950s) pulling a trail (I think it is called: used to lay the scent for a dummy fox hunt). Horseman sneers at my mate. lays the scent right through the middle of the yard with the obvious intention of causing trouble and heads off. My mate climbs into the digger and carefully gathers up all the scented soil into one big pile in the corner of the yard.
An hour or so later the hounds arrive, pursued by more idiots on horseback. Cue much confusion of said idiots as the hounds surrounded the big pile of dirt and barked their heads off.
And there's more....
He had a minor spill on his motorbike (named Claude, don't ask why) which cut his forehead. Not a serious problem except that the blood got into his eyes. He was near an A&E so went in to get it seen to. The receptionist nurse asked for his name, which was the same as a famous boxer. Cue much hilarity while Mike stood there decorating the floor with his blood. It took him a while to convice them that he wasn't taking the mickey.
After that he always carried a tampon in his emergency kit.

Any relation to this man, I wonder?

It irks me to say it but sometimes I think the bloody Irish have won more VCs than us Brits! So I suppose the lesson is, always try and keep 'Paddy' on side!

Good God it wasn't that long ago!

Another friend emigrated from Scotland to Dublin a decade ago. He was not impressed with the locals. He said that they were mostly lazy drunks who blamed the English for everything.
Mind you, you could say the same for the Scots. There seems to be a huge divide between hard workers and useless moaning deadweights.
The irony is that it is usually the useless deadweights who think they are the workers.

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