Hi Brian.
I often stop to count my blessings, even in the midst of a nasty cycle. I imagine what it would have been like to have this affliction 200 years ago. No doctors, no 02, no meds.No welfare if you couldn't work - starving families etc. And the pain - lets not forget the pain. Thank god I was born when I was, and not then.

I agree, CH.com and all it's members have given me so much, and I am so very thankful. The only help I have found, was found here.

I've also found great friendship, especially with you and dear Denny, and with Hoppy and Adda, so thats a bonus. Every cloud..............

Merry christmas to every one here. My gift to you all would be PFDAN, and friendship.

Me too... Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas (Holiday Season) and the happiest of the New Year... I love you all..

.

It's that time of the year when summer at last is making itself felt, so it means that Xmas is just around the corner, time to spend with those who really matter, our family and friends.

Hi Maz,
Not sure how the smilies beat you to it, definite something
in the water, which I drank plenty of yesterday, it was 39c
104F, looks like were heading for a nice hot Christmas day.

Cheers to you both  Hoppy.

G'day Mike,
If only I could shave those extra 9 degrees off and send
them too Maz, I'm sure she would appreciate it at this time
of the year, and at the same time make things more
bearable here in Perth lol.

Hoppy.

I accept the 9 degrees !!! Thank you so much. Now, if any one else in the southern hemisphere would like to send me a degree they would soon accumulate and make me heat rich.

Anyway, Your poem has disappeared completely now Hoppy, so I think my computer may have frozen. So now it looks like my smilies are laughing at mummymac's post. I wasn't laughing at you mummy.....There was a poem.....Honest !!!

At least I think there was.........maybe it's my brain that's frozen. Hey, my own built in ice pack !!  I'M CURED !!

Thanks Mike, Len says can he have the three degrees.

Len says thank you very much - brilliant.
Now he's overheated and had to go out into the frosty night to cool off. Any one got a bucket of cold water ?

Hoppy wrote on Dec 20^th, 2014 at 4:51pm:

Hey, Hoppy. If you can't find the exact copy then any Christmas carol by Bucko and Champs might run a close second.

We can translate it for our American friends.

'Twas the night before Christmas; there wasn't a sound.

Not a possum was stirring; no-one was around.
We'd left on the table some tucker and beer,

Hoping that Santa Claus soon would be here,

We children were snuggled up safe in our beds,

While dreams of pavlova danced 'round in our heads,
And Mum in her nightie, and Dad in his shorts,

Had just settled down to watch TV sports.

When outside the house a mad ruckus arose,

Loud squeaking and banging woke us from our doze.

We ran to the screen door, peeked cautiously out,

snuck onto the deck, then let out a shout.

Guess what had woken us up from our snooze,

But a rusty old Ute pulled by eight mighty 'roos.

The cheerful man driving was giggling with glee,

And we both knew at once who this plump bloke must be.

Now, I'm telling the truth it's all dinki-di,

Those eight kangaroos fairly soared through the sky.

Santa leaned out the window to pull at the reins,

And encouraged the 'roos, by calling their names.

'Now, Kylie! Now, Kirsty! Now, Shazza and Shane!

On Kipper! On, Skipper! On, Bazza and Wayne!

Park up on that water tank. Grab a quick drink,

I'll scoot down the gum tree. Be back in a wink!

So up to the tank those eight kangaroos flew,

With the Ute full of toys, and Santa Claus too.

He slid down the gum tree and jumped to the ground,

Then in through the window he sprang with a bound.

He had bright sunburned cheeks and a milky white beard.

A jolly old joker was how he appeared.

He wore red stubby shorts and old thongs on his feet,

And a hat of deep crimson as shade from the heat.

His eyes - bright as opals - Oh! How they twinkled!

And, like a goanna, his skin was quite wrinkled!

His shirt was stretched over a round bulging belly

Which shook when he moved, like a plate full of jelly.

A fat stack of prezzies he flung from his back,

And he looked like a swaggie unfastening his pack.

He spoke not a word, but bent down on one knee,

To position our goodies beneath the yule tree.

Surfboard and footy-ball shapes for us two.

And for Dad, tongs to use on the new barbeque.

A mysterious package he left for our Mum,

Then he turned and he winked and he held up his thumb,

He strolled out on deck and his 'roos came on cue,

Flung his sack in the back and prepared to shoot through.

He bellowed out loud as they swooped past the gates


MERRY CHRISTMAS to all, and goodonya, MATES!