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.