The Last Furlong

Comments on the race of life.



Since last year, I have gone to pot. I used to make notes, record my weight, blood sugar and what I had eaten. Sometimes, I might jot down an idea for a blog post.

But for some reason, all discipline has evaporated.

I couldn’t be arsed any more. (English term meaning couldn’t be bothered)

Mr Furlong and I are having trouble with our memories. The most common phrases used in our home are “Can’t remember” or “I don’t know”.

Without Mr Furlong, I’d have trouble writing anything at all. For when I can’t remember a word, a name or the spelling, there’s a chance that he can.

One morning recently, he stood in my doorway in his very smart navy blue pyjamas looking very dapper and refreshed from a good nights rest. He made an observation which was very funny.

We fell about laughing.

I said “Oh, that would make a wonderful blog post!”

I should have written it down, but I didn’t.

But now when I ask him what it was he said, he can’t remember.

And neither can I.

Our minds are BLANK.

Leave a comment

Do I Waddle When I Walk? How to Stop Tredelenberg.

I am trying to stop my shadow waddling when I walk. Well, I’ve always limped since I had my stroke in 1980, but the annoying thing is that on my daily walks, in good weather, this dam shadow follows me around everywhere, and I can see it when I walk.

It limps.


does it waddle?

There’s a difference.

If it limps, that’s OK. It’s my disability. If it waddles, I’m showing my old person status. I’ve never understood why old people waddle. But old people do. My mother never waddled!

I will not allow my shadow to waddle.

I’ve got a stretchy rope thingy as they demonstrate in this video. So before I take my shadow out walking the dog, I’ll have to do this excercise first.


Leave a comment

Lest we forget meditation “RARE 1942 US Army Field Ration”

This is the meditation for today in a world where currently we wallow in food abundance. New MRE’s for modern soldiers contain every luxury under the sun.

This 1942 field ration makes me feel we should never forget the discomfort and sacrifices our ancestors made…..

The reviewer mistakenly calls the wrappers on the sweets “plastic”, but there was no plastic in 1942. There was no instant coffee either, only “soluable” coffee. Perhaps soldiers also got a tin of bully beef? I hope so. This small offering would leave any soldier mighty hungry! God bless them all.


Happy Birthday Mr Furlong

Happy birthday Mr Furlong.

I’m sorry you had to buy your own birthday presents. But, at least you got the right sizes.

I’m sorry you got one of the birthday cards from me that I bought ten for a pound on a special offer, but at least it had a motor car on it.

I’m sorry we are going out for a wonderful carvery luncheon with most of our five children and nine grandchildren. It will be a grand celebration, that will blow your carefully managed diabetes out of the water for a few days.

I’m sorry you have got to seventy two. You haven’t done that age before. It’s still practise. Trouble is, after you’ve practised being seventy two, you have to practise being seventy three. I wish I could stop the passage of time right now, today, on this good day.

Im sorry birthdays always make me melancholic, but I’m happy that you are going to practise being seventy two with me. It’s been a good life with you.

Happy birthday Mr Furlong. Best wishes for another year!