Aveo Fulham resident celebrates 100th birthday

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Aveo Fulham retirement village resident, Viola Mary West, celebrated her 100th birthday in style this January, surrounded by 50 of her nearest and dearest.

Viola, along with her family and resident friends, enjoyed a grand morning tea on the shady grounds of Fulham’s Heritage House on January 8th.

Special guest, the Mayor of the City of West Torrens, was one of the fifty guests in attendance, and presented Viola with a bouquet to recognise her years as Mayoress of the local council.

The theme of pink and white was reflected in the summery table decorations, balloons, flowers, and the beautiful cake. Guests even dressed in pink to celebrate Viola’s favourite colour on her centenary!

Viola reflected over her years, penning the following poem:


On my 100th birthday

I have reached my 100th birthday
I can’t believe it’s true
I’d better make the most of it
The years ahead are few

But the number doesn’t matter
It’s the living that’s the key
And for all our wishful thinking
What will be, will be.

When I was young, we walked to school
All safe and free as air
The lucky ones had bicycles
This took them everywhere

The wealthy drove their motor cars
The rest of us caught trams
And mothers wheeled their babies
In great big wicker prams

Then computers were invented
The digital world was here
And all the latest gadgets
Just started to appear

There’s Twitter and there’s Facebook
There’s email and on-line
No letter written much today
But for me, snail mail is fine

There’s mobile phones that photograph
And store information too
There’s iPads and there’s tablets
To mention just a few

If you want to do some research
No need to read a book
Just press a Google button
And then just have a look

There are robots making robots
To do your work for you
And the magic 3D printer
Which creates things just like new

There are motor cars that drive themselves
And planes that fly alone
And this other flying object
Which is nominated –“drone”

There are satellites and spaceships
A robot searching Mars
It won’t belong before we reach
The very distant stars

It’s all a bit too much
For an old Luddite like me
So I’ll think I’ll find a spot
Beneath a shady tree

And ponder on the wonders
That I’m sure must lie ahead
Then I’ll make myself a cup of tea
And take myself to bed.

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