Just before the lockdown I made a Bucket List but, because of my involuntary incarceration, have only managed to complete a couple of items. I can hear some of you right now saying, “what the heck is that?” Quite simply . .
A Bucket List is a list of things to do before you die . . . or, ‘kick the bucket’. It was made popular from the film called ‘The Bucket List‘ where two terminally ill guys (Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson) meet in a hospital and then set out on an adventure to try and do everything on their lists.
When others tell me about their list I can only dream. Most – if not all – are not possible to me. If only I was ten years younger! Go on a safari; ride a hot air balloon; Swim with dolphins; lose some weight are just some of the examples. If you have a list tell me about it.
- Smoke a tab. I know it’s frowned upon today but, at my age, I don’t give a monkey’s. DONE
- Get a tattoo. Was arranged on my birthday.
- Dye my beard.
- Sort out my affairs. I have the time, but lack the effort.
- Booked to go to the theatre to see ‘The Mousetrap’. CANCELLED.
- Visit Brighton Pier and eat fish and chips.
- Try to think positively – DIFFICULT – but making the effort.
- Visit Durham – ‘Land of my Fathers’ and to see my sisters’
- Wear a wig occasionally. DONE
- Attend an organised detecting rally – as an observer.
BRIEF NOTES ON THE SLIDES
1: The first picture is rather evocative, don’t you think? Always fancied a Noel Coward type smoking jacket. I have Restless Leg Syndrome (RLS), and after smoking that tab my legs stopped shaking for about 20 minutes. I was almost tempted to take it up as a new hobby!
2: The tattoo of my caricature will still take place – when we can travel and the situation is back to ‘normal’ – whatever the ‘new normal’ happens to be. Where will I stick it? Don’t answer that! I tried a temporary one on my forehead. Thought it said, Go with the Flo, but I was mistaken. Can you see what it says? What does that mean?
3 : This was a fun time. After I was ‘done’ dying ( I assure you that the colour was easily washed out ), Mrs John liked it so much, she dyed her hair pink! My hair and beard are rather untidy. We have been under lockdown for a long, long time.
4: Getting my affairs in order. As latter life approaches, it’s always a good thing to plan ahead for the future. You see, I’m thinking positively!
5: I was looking forward to the theatre visit, but COVID-19 scuppered that adventure. We were given vouchers and will make alternative arrangements when the time is right and theatres back in business.
6: I have fond memories of Brighton. Very cosmopolitan; I liked mooching in the Lanes.
7: I try to smile more, not be a worry, be more compassionate, less judgmental, more blessed and less stressed. More love, less hate.
8: My formative years were spent in Durham County and I still regard it as my home. Attended school, technical college and worked down the coal mine. Met my wife at Durham University.
9: The wig was purchased from an up-market charity shop in Aylesbury. I was in there with three shrieking females who were trying on different hairpieces. I refused of course; beneath my dignity. Unknown to me Mrs. John had secreted one in her handbag, and presented it to me the next day. Inscribed inside was the name Rquel Welch. I kid you not! I wear it most days ‘cos I don’t just look younger, but resemble a handsome Scandinavian playwright . . . so I’ve been told.
10: Ages since I attended an organised dig. The last one was when I fell over and rescued by Dave Philips . Little did I know then, but it was the start of all my problems . . .
I hope that you have enjoyed this ‘different’ post. There may be more of this type – sans metal detecting – in the future