Wednesday, 2 January 2013

War babies.

I found myself saying this morning "oh good festivities over...we can all get back to normal now"

To anyone under sixty this might seem a council of despair but everyone of my age has already lived through decades of Christmas, New Year, etc etc....so getting back to normal is for us a putting back on, of a comfy old cardigan...not smart but very cozy....

Growing old is the problem. My generation of kids growing up during the war had orange juice, cod liver oil and malt and Dr Scott's emulsion forced upon us every day at an early age....in my case by my lovely herbalist granny who also chased off every ailment with one of her infusions! We didn't have anti biotics, sweets and chocolate in abundance. For a start we were poor and then of course there was a war on!

That last phrase covered everything we couldn't have....it followed us from one whim to the next. We were in no doubt that there was indeed a war on. Grandad on home guard every night brought back the odd rabbit but meat was scarce. We kept chickens. It was my job every morning to feed them and collect the eggs.

Growing old with all it's attendant health problems is definately not for wimps....but my generation are amazingly resilient and fairly tough old boots thanks to the fish oil . Growing up in a war fitted us to withstand some of the worst bits of life.

Getting back to normal is no bad thing....when normal is living here in Cornwall in love and charity with our neighbours...

1 comment:

  1. It sounds like a wonderful life. I am under 60 and also quite like getting back to normal- and eating a bit less!

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