RANDOM REMINDER

Press, Volume CIII, Issue 30563, 5 October 1964, Page 28

RANDOM REMINDER

DOWN MEMORY LANE

There can not be a day in the year which does not have particular significance to very many people. Everyone Is conscious of Christmas and New Year and so forth. Not many people forget their birthdays, much as they might like to. But others may recall that today is the fiftieth anniversary of the day they started work, or the thirtieth of the purchase of their house or the tenth of the day they had their teeth out. Certain it is that today, somewhere in Christchurch, there is a little grey-haired lady celebrating her wedding anniversary. And if, at an age where a gleam in the eye relates particularly to

anticipation of the universal superannuation, she still likes to think of herself as an ash blond, who would really blame her? For women are incurable romantics, and they would not be nearly so attractive if they weren’t So today, hats off to any grey-haired ladies celebrating their wedding anniversaries. No, not an attempt to steal the diminishing thunder of Mr Donald Peers, but a genuine effort to record something of what must be going through the minds of the husbands of the little grey-haired ladies. Marriage as someone sagely observed is an excellent institution and the most fortunate oc-

casionally pause to count their blessings. Women, they might say, are wonderful: the world’s great all-rounders. For woman has the gift of performing, day after day, like some sort of mechanical charlady (with 14 arms and at least two hearts) while retaining the allure of her youth; in the household, she is Everybod’y Best Friend. So, the Homburg hats of us older chaps off to any little old grey-haired ladies who today might be celebrating their wedding anniversaries. And, in particular, to one, who is not really old at all, (per< haps more ash-blond than grey,) but very little. Except in fortitude.