Danskcolin: Monday February 10th 2025 "Revealed: the reason why Lois and I look so old! (Exclusive to all blogs!!!!!)"

Friends, if you've ever seen recent photos of my medium-to-long-suffering wife Lois and me, you've probably been wondering why we both look so old, way beyond our years: at least 100 to put it mildly!

Am I right or am I right?!

Well, in case you're thinking that our "old codger look" is just the result of the "hard-knock life" we've been leading since we both retired in March 2006, I've got news for you: it's simply make-up, yes, make-up, pure and simple, and nothing else !!!!

my medium-to-long-suffering wife Lois and me - a recent picture

Yes, it's simply make-up! And it's just because we're lucky enough to know a really clever local make-up artist, who's up to speed with the latest "tech" from the US, courtesy of the Industrial Light and Magic people, over there in Hollywood, USA.

There's exactly zero point in hiding our make-up methods from you any more, anyway. Our secret's well and truly out now, that's for sure, aided by an extraordinary exposé in this morning's Onion News for East Hampshire. Have you browsed your copy yet? Just "thumb through" your copy till you get to Page 94 - you'll find it well worth the "thumbing" haha!

Fantastic news, isn't it. And there's one often overlooked "plus" of looking "our age - and more (!)" which comes from our membership of the U3A (University of the Third Age). Lois and I suspect we will no longer have to show our "proof of old age" cards to gain admittance to these groups, which will be a time-saver, to put it mildly (!).

You see, a lot of us old codgers find, on retirement, that we haven't got quite enough to do to fill all our time, if you take out the afternoons in bed and the evenings on the couch in front of the "telly".

And many of us, not just here but even in Australia, tend to kill those not-in-bed and not-on-the-couch minutes by joining "U3A old codger special interest groups" like ukulele-playing, table-tennis, or "card-making and paper craft", you know the kind of thing!

flashback to 2018: (left) Lois and I listen to an impromptu ukulele concert

put on by U3A "old codgers" outside our then local pub The Royal Oak, Prestbury,

and (right) visiting our daughter Sarah in Perth, Australia, listening to

a U3A ukulele concert there on the quayside at Hillary's Harbour

When we lived in Cheltenham, Lois and I were even responsible for starting a U3A Intermediate Danish group, and I joined a history-of-English group, a group which I now have since become the leader of also.

Today, Lois and I, on our daily walk, this time through the village centre of our new home-town, Liphook, Hampshire, find time to drop in at the local "community hub", the village's so-called "Millennium Centre", where a charming receptionist gives us one of her leaflets about the Liphook U3A.

Liphook is a much smaller place than Cheltenham, and with a much smaller range of "groups" in its U3A, all fine and dandy, but generally not as intellectual as the groups in Cheltenham, I would say, if I wanted to sum it up.

(left) the range of old codger groups organised by the local

Liphook U3A, and (right) a demonstration of scrabble and other

skills by the local Old Codger Table Games Group

The big question in mine and Lois's minds this morning is "Would a putative new Liphook U3A Intermediate Danish group look hopelessly out of kilter, not to say "out of whack", and far too intellectual, given the kind of groups already existing here. Would the local "Lip Hookers (!)" find such a group, if Lois and I chose to "trial" one, tp be incredibly pretentious, not to say "hoity-toity" to the simpler-minded old codger locals in these here parts?

Your views welcome, incidentally! (Postcards only, of course!!!!)

11:00 After visiting the village's Millennium Centre this morning, Lois and I continue our walk through the village - in "driving drizzle" I might add (!), but we're feeling indomitable today - and we do a 5000-step walk, as measured by Lois's "stepp-ometer".

There's plenty else to interest us too on the walk, which is nice. We take a walk through the new housing estate where all the roads have been named after places in Canada, as a mark of gratitude for the Canadian armed forces' contribution to Allied victory in two world wars: they were stationed nearby in the Liphook and Bramshott areas.

Lois and I stroll through this "Little Canada" estate this morning, noting the street names referencing Hudson, Montreal, Ottawa etc, all sorts!

Lois and I on our walk this morning through "Little Canada"

pausing to take souvenir selfies on Hudson Close and Montreal Walk

We also swing by the adjacent Regency-period (?) Chiltley Manor, on land which, incredibly, was listed in William I's (William the Conqueror's) "Domesday Book" of 1086 AD, and marked off as the King's private property, so probably part of one of his many vast hunting estates.

me this morning, as we swing by Chiltley Manor,

listed in the Domesday Book of 1086 AD

as "King [William the Conqueror]'s private property.

It's ironic, perhaps, that Canadian troops who were training for D-Day here during World War II, were of course preparing to invade William I's old stamping ground of Normandy.

Surely this is the ultimate example of "revenge is a dish best served cold"? To get back at William for his invasion of England, by invading Normandy a mere 878 years later.

You do the maths haha !!!!

But it's US President Trump who's the master of revenge-taking, isn't he, and like him or not, you have to admire the meticulous way he's now taking revenge for all the things he didn't like that happened during the last 4 years, when he's been out of office, pardoning the Jan 6th rioters, and taking away Biden's security clearance etc etc - you know the kind of thing!

And like him or not, you just can't keep the guy out of the news, as witnessed by Lois's copy of "The Week", the magazine which gives a digest of the week's news from home and abroad, and which "plopped" through our letter-box at the weekend.

Lois's copy of "The Week" magazine, which

"plopped" through our letter-box at the weekend

This week, there's an interesting quote from the Boston Globe:

The Boston Globe's Jeff Jacoby writes: "[Trump's] name already adorns golf clubs and casinos, but that's not enough for his fans in Congress. They're lobbying for the Washington Dulles International Airport to be rechristened "Donald J Trump International Airport". In several red [i.e Republican] states, meanwhile, law-makers are seeking to designate roads as "Donald J Trump Highway"."

Strange as it may seem, as far as I know, the UK has made the right choice for once, by generally avoiding going down that particular "highway" (!), that of naming roads etc after individuals particularly living ones, although let me know if I'm wrong, I know that Liverpool Airport is now the Liverpool John Lennon Airport, but I think that's a rare exception, plus John Lennon is, famously, dead, "as any fule kno" [sic] (!).

So we might call a street Montreal Walk, but we wouldn't call it "Justin Trudeau Avenue" for instance.

Same in Australia - when Lois and I were last in Perth, in 2016 and 2018, visiting our daughter Sarah and family, we noticed a few road names like the Mitchell Highway and the Graham Farmer Highway etc, but when we looked into it we discovered that these people, none of whom we'd ever heard of, were all dead, which was a relief (!) - incidentally, our sympathy to the families concerned, however, needless to say!

signs for a roundabout in Perth, Australia, giving access to the Mitchell Highway

The news about Trump isn't all negative today, however, as an email from Steve, our American brother-in-law makes clear. Who knew that Trump is a fervent defender of the British Royal Family, to the extent of carrying on one of his famous "feuds" with the Royals' current nemesis, - step forward Ms Meghan Markle, Duchess of Sussex, no less!

Trump apparently thinks that Meghan's husband, Prince Harry, is being "[pussy]-whipped" by his wife, and feels genuinely sorry for the guy, which is refreshing.

Steve texts us as follows:

Awww!!! Lois and I think that's rather sweet, that Trump is feeling protective of the royals, and it puts us in a good mood for our evening on the couch, which is nice.

21:00 We decide to go to bed on last night's edition of "Wheeltappers and Shunters Social Club", the old 1970's series that tried to recreate the sometimes rowdy atmosphere of a typical working men's club in the North of England. It's the show presented by singer and stand-up comic, the foul-mouthed and conspicuously "unwoke" (!) Bernard Manning, all under the overall control of bureaucracy-loving and slow-talking club chairman and "turn-manager", Colin Crompton.

After Bernard's opening song, our "turn manager" Colin Crompton lets slip that the club recently sent Bernard on an "Improve Your Singing" course, but that the club's committee members were now busily trying to get a refund from the course's administrators. Lois and I are assuming that means that Bernard's singing has been judged not to have been significantly improved by this expensive training, which was a pity.

Oh dear!

flashback to last Sunday: not-very-genial club chairman and 'turn'-manager

Colin Crompton (right) questions the "crudentials [sic]" of singing star Roy Orbison

Tonight, Lois and I are looking forward to an appearance by the Crickets, who are due to be singing a couple of Buddy Holly songs, ones that we remember particularly from our "pre-courting days" (!), but see what you think.

By the way, who ARE these guys calling themselves the Crickets? Surely these aren't the original Crickets, are they?

What a crazy world we live in !!!!!

Luckily the show ends on a more authentic note with an old-fashioned conjuror and his leggy female assistant getting some doves to disappear from their cage and then reappear inside a balloon.

That's something you can't fake, isn't it, because as Paul Daniels used to say "And that's magic!"