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Friday, March 16, 2012

Don't let old age drive you round the bend

Some people greet their golden years with arms wide open, ready to embrace their well earned rights to make inappropriate comments at family functions and hold up bank queues for lengthy chats.

These are my sort of people.

I was chatting with a dear lady I've known for many years today. Living alone on her cattle property, she's a fiercely independent woman.

She's eighty, but with the body and come hither looks of a woman a third of her age. For years she's been regaling me with stories of how she flirts with the men working in the neighbouring state forest, inviting them over for cups of tea so she can have a purve.

Oh, yeah, she works it.

She's finding it a bit tough lately though because her mind is slipping with age, but so far she's managed to keep a grip on her sense of humour.

"They're taking my licence away from me," she complained to me today when I bumped into her. "I don't understand it. I'm dreadful in the car - I keep bumping into things and getting lost - but you should see me slashing the paddocks with the tractor! Beautiful straight lines. I really don't understand it."

"Well the thing with roads is they're full of corners," I explained to her.

"That must be it," she agreed. Just then her forty year old son raced past on a mission, not even glancing our way despite passing less than four feet from us. "I've got three more idiots just like him," she said as he disappeared from view. Then she started digging into her handbag. "The councils gone and sent my rates notice to the wrong address. I was just over there trying to sort it out." She pulled out her phone bill. "This isn't my rates notice," she frowned. "Maybe I haven't done that yet."

"Mum!" her son snapped as he approached us again. "I've been looking for you everywhere. You were going to wait for me at the Telstra shop."

"Was I? Are you sure? Oh dear, I've done it again," she told me, chuckling. "I'll worry about the rates notice some other time, I think. I better go straight home." She gave me a cheeky wink. "Shouldn't be a problem if I just avoid the corners."

1 comment:

Kez said...

Aww how cute :)
I love old people. That's a weird thing to say, but I totally do.
My grandfather has Alzheimers and lives across the country. I got to see him last month and was a little apprehensive. I shouldn't have been. He was still so loving and sweet even if he didn't remember us. He LOVED the Little Mister and visits from him really made his day :)

About Me

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Bruce Devereaux is one of the nicest people he knows. When not at work he enjoys reading, writing, hiding from his children and not changing nappies.


His career, and if we used the term any more loosely an e might fall out, has included a gardener, a personal lender, a console operator, a stop/go man (not as big a bludge as you might think but great if you’re into sunburn, abuse and varicose veins), a cleaner of banks and pubs and, for a very brief period, a door to door salesman (until the last door he knocked on was answered by a very scary woman with tremendously hairy legs).


Bruce Devereaux currently works as a forty-five-year-old award winning customer service officer (glass statuette available upon request) for the Bank of Queensland and as a very casual employee for Corrective Services. He likes to believe he excels at both but then he has always been prone to exaggeration.


His favourite colour is green, with a picture of Dame Nellie Melba on one side and General Sir John Monash on the other. His favourite flower is self-raising.

 If you see him around town, call his wife immediately - he's probably snuck out and left her alone with all the kids.


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