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Pat Ritter. Books


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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Thu Nov 26, 2015 8:48 pm

'Brilliant - OMR - Stories' - Page 45:

All’s Well That Ends Well

On reflection, this year’s events; brings to mind one particular problem I’m pleased to say I overcame. In January I experienced a traffic accident; the first in more than forty-five years.
I stopped to wait for another vehicle to make a right hand turn, my vehicle stationary behind this vehicle. Something told me to look in the rear-a-vision mirror; to my horror another motor vehicle approached at a fast speed.
In my imagination, this vehicle either needed to swerve off the road, in a sudden drop on the side of the roadway or crash into the rear of mine. What a strange feeling to know the vehicle within a few second will smash into the rear of your vehicle.
The other vehicle crashed into the rear of my vehicle caused my vehicle to smash into the vehicle in front. On collision with the other vehicle, my vehicle sandwiched. The driver’s seat, slid forward with the rear section collapsing. I was uninjured. Lucky my vehicle had electric seats.
I was more concerned about the driver of the vehicle which crashed into the rear of my vehicle. He appeared uninjured but shocked. His words carried, ‘I’m sorry’ and he started to cry.
My vehicle finished a write-off. I had the vehicle comprehensively insured.
What a surprise I received. Yes, the insurance company did appraise my vehicle. Initially they presented me with a pay-out figure which to me an insult. I immediately gathered sufficient evidence to prove their figures wrong.
After a couple of months of telephone calls; arguing over payments; extra cost of expenses, eventually they paid the amount which I considered was a fair value for my vehicle.
What did I do about another motor vehicle? By chance I visited the wrecking yard where my previous vehicle was housed and saw a vehicle advertised for sale. This was the exact vehicle I needed and I purchased it without going over the budget I’d set to buy another vehicle.
Although I’d experienced a fight on my hand with the insurance company over the true value of my wrote-off vehicle, in the end everything turned out that all’s well that end well. I’m now a happy little vegemite. An important message I learned ‘to never give up’
Word count: 382
TO READ THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/270499
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Fri Nov 27, 2015 10:44 pm

'Brilliant - OMR - Stories' - Page 46:

Fools Rush In

Fools rush in – I relate to this title. Many a time through my life, I’ve rushed into events because I failed of think of the consequences, only to find when I was half way through suddenly things didn’t turn out the exact way I’d portrayed them. Either I ended up with egg on my face or continued to finish what I started with little success.
Yes – I’m over sixty years of age; and probably getting to the point of life when I’m old and grumpy. I don’t want to become grumpy, however, have no choice in slowing down the age barrier.
In essence, I’m a gambler. I believe at the time I rush into anything luck is on my side. My personal belief is ‘whatever I protract will happen the way I want it to be’. And this is why I like the title – ‘Fools Rush In’. This shows my way of doing things.
Memory takes me back to ‘Elvis Presley Special’ when he sang amongst other songs ‘Fools Rush In’. His voice alone portrayed the American dream of a youth raised from lower class to become ‘King of Rock & Roll’.
Further back than I care to remember Elvis’s songs were always on the airways from humble ballads to extreme rock & roll. Elvis beyond doubt was the ‘King of Rock & Roll’ and still retains the title to be remembered forever.
Least of all, in his day, one could understand the songs together with his sweet voice transmitted a vibe through ones body to either smile or dance to the tune.
Today’s music, I’m afraid to admit, not only do I not understand the words of each song nor understand the music. I’m afraid I heard too much of ‘Elvis’ music in my youth to think otherwise.
Perhaps I am becoming old and grumpy and not realise what is happening. To retain my sanity all I need to do is to reflect on my past and visualise Elvis standing playing his guitar wearing the black leather jump suit with his voice singing ‘Fools Rush In Where Angels Fear To Tread’ and my world is whole.
Word count:362
TO READ THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/270499
IMPORTANT NOTICE: THIS IS THE FINAL STORY. NEW BOOK TOMORROW.

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Sat Nov 28, 2015 10:32 pm

'His Life Worth Living' - Page 1:

AUTHORS NOTE

Every adversity carries with it the seed of an equivalent or greater benefit.
≈ Napoleon Hill ≈

Courage, determination, independence are some of the words to describe George Burtenshaw. His passing, aged one hundred and two years and a half truly showed inspiration with such self-determination, willpower and a ‘what he wanted attitude’ combined with a deep love for his huge family.
Born in 1911 at Newport Wales at seven years old his home destroyed by bombs at the close of World War 1. His family taken. He with his sister Lou taken to a Children's Home. Alone with only his sister, he had no knowledge where his brothers and parents were. His life in a Children's Home proceeded until his fifteenth birthday when he applied through Church of England, Council of Empire Settlement to go to Canada. Instead he ended up in Australia.
His arrival in Australia with four shillings to begin a new life, a job with a place to live in a new country and close to the town Gympie. His work ethics proved how important his life became. Aged eighteen years old, beginning of the Great Depression, he travelled by train to Rockhampton to seek work. Unable to find work he purchased a bicycle for seven shillings and sixpence leaving him little money. Four days riding along the beach, sleeping under a sheet of canvas returned to Kia Ora to be welcomed.
George worked for his old boss when a family arrived to share farm the property. Must had been 'love at first sight' because this family's daughter Eva caught George's eye. Eva later became his wife and they celebrated their sixty-fifth wedding anniversary before she sadly passed aged ninety-six years old.
TO DOWNLOAD THIS BOOK: CLICK HERE: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/591980.

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Sun Nov 29, 2015 8:03 pm

'His Life Worth Living' - Page 2:

Having worked his apprecenticeship at a dairy farm he purchased a motor cycle journeyed west to find work. By 1942 World War 11 exploded across the globe. George enlisted. Before going to war he married Eva. Twelve months after leaving Australian shores for Mayala Japanese invaded Singapore. He became a Prisoner-of-War and incarcerated in Changi Prison until World War 11 ended.
He recorded a daily record in a series of war diaries. If his captors found these diaries he would have been decapitated. He concealed them in plastic and safe from the enemy. When reading this portion of the book one cannot help but wonder at the suffering and atrocities Prisoners-of-War suffered at the hands of their enemy.
After such an horrific time in his life, he returned to Australia. Eva nursed him back to health. George went on to live a life worth living.
At 10am on Thursday 13 September 2007 George attended a DEDICATION OF COMMEMORATIVE PLAQUE to recognise the sacrifice and service of the members of 2/10th Australian Field Regiment 8th Division, Australian Imperial Force conducted at the Australian War Memorial, Canberra when at last he was recognised for his time as a Prisoner Of War.
George has certainly proven the words spoken by Napoleon Hill - Every adversity carries with it the seed of an equivalent or greater benefit. This is truly an inspirational story of survival mixed with self-determination with his life worth living.


Pat Ritter
Author
TO DOWNLOAD THIS BOOK: CLICK HERE: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/591980.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Mon Nov 30, 2015 9:23 pm

'His Life Worth Living' - Page 3:

Chapter 1

Knowledge is proud that he knows so much
Wisdom is humble because he knows no more
Eight in the family, two sisters and five brothers. I might say here, we were more than poor: ‘poor as church mice’. I don’t remember going hungry. In hindsight, I must say I don’t remember more than once when I sat around the table for a meal, and on this occasion the only time seeing my father. I have little or no memory of him. Only person close, my sister Lou, who I partly grew up with.
I was born in Newport in Wales on 23rd December 1911. I do remember during the war years 1914-1918 (WW1), although I was only a child. I must have been either six or seven years old. Every hall in the town was full to over flowing with war wounded. Hundreds of wounded people crowded the hall waiting for a handout of bread and jam. On another occasion after the war was over, the victory parade going down the main road, this huge army truck rumbled down, thundering down towards us, my mother picked me up in her arms to nurse me. Such small things I remember.
I don’t remember, aged probably about seven years old. I do remember a Saturday morning. We were coming from the pictures. Little boys were allowed in free if they behaved themselves and sat in the front on the canvas seats or on the floor. Number 3 James Building was empty. That was where I lived. I asked where everyone was and told they were taken. Taken. Later I was taken to a Children’s Home with my sister Lou and other kids. I must have been cheeky because I remember someone saying, give him a swipe. My brothers were taken to another home outside of Newport. My Home was opposite the Workhouse complete with buildings housing the poor, a huge laundry and infirmary.
TO DOWNLOAD THIS BOOK: CLICK HERE: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/591980.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Tue Dec 01, 2015 10:03 pm

'His Life Worth Living' - Page 4:

From Stow Hel Home I was taken to Beechwood Boys Home. Lou taken to a Girls Home nearby. While at Stow Hel School I used to leave the Home and race the tram to school. One morning half way to school I looked back behind me and ran smack bang into a lamppost. Someone carried me onto a nearby house where I regained consciousness. They bandaged me. I continued to school. Nobody appeared alarmed. I still have the scar on my forehead today. Shortly afterwards I became a patient of the infirmary after practising jumping over a skipping rope. I broke my left arm in two places, which when set used no anaesthetic. My arm strapped to my chest.
I went to the local school and must have been cheeky. This was all a front because my self-esteem at its lowest. I recall having to bend over the desk and threatened with a huge cane, but for some reason the Headmaster did not hit me. I still didn’t understand what I did wrong. I went to church regularly, confirmed, and attended Sunday School. I am not religious. I try to believe in God. A Church saying, ‘give me a child until he is the age of seven and ye can have him for the rest of his life’.
What ideas are impressed in the mind of a child will remain with the person for the rest of his or her life. The treatment in the Homes strict but not harsh. Life became dispassionate, lacking in affection - no love. As I grew older I had a degree of freedom outside of the Home, especially at weekends. Living at Beechwood Home in a three-storey building I started to take an interest in things. I did odd jobs for the Matron. Once sick with pneumonia, she came back herself, rubbed my chest and nursed me. She was kind. I found not all people in authority are harsh or cruel.
TO DOWNLOAD THIS BOOK: CLICK HERE: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/591980.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Wed Dec 02, 2015 9:37 pm

'His Life Worth Living' - Page 5:

About twelve or thirteen years old I did my share of housework, clean floors, make the fire in the kitchen and later, occasionally cook the Sunday roast and vegetables for dinner. A big range, which is a stove, both the range and the hot water system used a lot of coal. When I was fifteen years old I played Santa Claus and went around the beds filling the Christmas stockings with nuts, lollies and a toy.
My brothers were taken to a Navy School. None of them wrote to me and as I had no addresses I couldn't write to them. I remember my eldest brother Bert my other brothers, Fred and Charlie, from photographs. John, I met when Eva and I went to England in 1959. Fred, on my next trip to England, but, they were complete strangers and I had nothing in common with them.
I liked school and learned to like sport especially running. 1923 or 1924 I went with a party of other boys to the Wembley Exhibitions in London. The School Master asked if I had any money. I told him four shillings. He gave me a strange look. I thought I was a millionaire. Obviously he thought differently. The Board of Guardian under the Poor Law Act gave me this money.
At Beechwood one of the many cross roads of my life happened. I won a place at Hatherleigh School, twenty boys and twenty girls to a class. I was in 3B. Nothing memorable academically with my ability but I was good at sport reaching the finals in soccer with a gold and silver medal. The football grounds at Newport were in the country, about one mile away. We won the match. I was on a high. No celebrations afterwards only a mile walk back home telling everyone we won. Oh yes. That was all. I was on a high for about three hours. After all these years the indifference still hurts.
I was first in high jump, also first in throwing the cricket ball. This is one of the things which happened often. On this day I was sent out onto the grounds with a message from the Headmaster to the Master of Sports who was training a squad in throwing. I did not think much of their efforts so I asked for a throw. The others threw forty to fifty yards. My first and only throw seventy yards. In the finals I threw over eighty yards.
TO DOWNLOAD THIS BOOK: CLICK HERE: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/591980.
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