Got a mega-milestone birthday or anniversary coming up? Here's how you can get your letter from King Charles III himself

If you or someone you love is set to celebrate their 100th birthday, or even a significant anniversary, why not celebrate with a letter from the King?
Since 1917, when King George V started the tradition with a telegram, royal messages have become a staple of major life moments across the UK and the Commonwealth.
During the late Queen Elizabeth II's record-breaking reign, more than 1.3 million royal cards were sent out.
Now, His Majesty the King is carrying the torch, and thanks to the digital age it's never been easier to get your hands on one. What You Can Get:
If you're an Aussie, you can nab messages from the King and the Governor-General, the Honourable Sam Mostyn, to mark:
• 50th wedding anniversaries (Governor-General only)
• 60th (Diamond), 65th, 70th (Platinum) anniversaries- and every year thereafter
• 100th, 105th birthdays- and every year thereafter. How to Apply: Get Your Docs Together: You'll need something official to prove the milestone, like a birth or marriage certificate, a passport, or a statutory declaration (available online or at the post office, or online via the Attorney-General's Department). Contact Your MP or Senator: They'll take care of getting the request in. Need help finding your rep? Just punch in your postcode here. Delivery of messages:
Anniversary messages will be delivered directly to the recipient. If you require an alternative delivery arrangement, please note the circumstances on the application form. Timing Is Everything
The Royal Mail doesn't move at lightning speed. Try to lodge your request at least two months in advance.
If you're running late, the Governor-General's office says they'll do their best- but no promises. Missed a milestone?
Good news: you can still request a message up to six months after the birthday or wedding.
Or, you can always try next year!
Right now, the title of Australia's oldest living person belongs to 111-year-old Kenneth 'Ken' Weeks- meaning he's racked up at least seven letters from the King so far.
Born on October 5, 1913, just before the outbreak of World War I, Mr Weeks lives in an aged care facility in Grafton, New South Wales.
Remarkably, he didn't move in until he was 104.
A familiar face in the Grafton community for decades, Mr Weeks has always kept busy.
According to Mr Weeks, he has "no regrets in life" and told The Daily Examiner "hard work" is the most important key to a long and happy life.
He'll celebrate his 112th birthday this October with son Ian and his grandchildren.

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Courier-Mail

2 days ago

• Courier-Mail

Aussies fuming over 'unAustralian' move at Bunnings

Don't miss out on the headlines from Lifestyle. Followed categories will be added to My News. On a cold weekend morning, sometimes there's nothing better than an iconic Bunnings snag. A piece of bread and a beef sausage with some BBQ sauce - what more could you ask for? Given that these barbeques are run by community groups, it's not a surprise that what you're getting isn't always exactly the same - though it's usually pretty similar. One woman, though, was met with a rude shock when she received something Aussies are calling 'unAustralian'. Want to join the family? Sign up to our Kidspot newsletter for more stories like this. Image: TikTok / @laurenrichter10, iStock. RELATED: $5 Bunnings hack is a game changer for pet parents 'How unconstitutional' Aussie woman Lauren Richter has taken to TikTok this week after a shocking experience at Bunnings. Lauren said that instead of the standard Bunnings snag she was after, she got something literally no one has ever wanted - a chicken sausage. 'Just got a chicken sausage at Bunnings…' she wrote. 'How unconstitutional.' 'You might be entitled to compensation' Commenters were in agreement - the chicken sausage is just not on. 'You might be entitled to compensation,' one person said. 'That's not right! ... who do we need to complain to?!' said another. 'Beef or maybe Lamb or those sausages that have a mixture of every meat left over at the abattoir. But chicken should never be a sausage, especially at Bunnings!' a third agreed passionately. 'That's unaustralian,' another asserted. 'Call 000. Now! That's a crime against humanity,' another person said. It gets worse… But, it was decided that there is something worse - just. An undisclosed vegan sausage. 'I got a vegan one once… it was the only option and only mentioned on the sign down the bottom in small letters, so most people getting them didn't know until they handed over this weird sausage with all this green stuff in it. Was horrid,' one person said. 'One time they gave me a vegan sausage, didn't say that's all they were taste,' said another. No thank you! Originally published as Aussies fuming over 'unAustralian' move at Bunnings

The Advertiser

4 days ago

• The Advertiser

Meet Delma and Frank, they've been married for 80 years

80 YEARS is a milestone most marriages never reach, but the love between Delma Earsman and Francis 'Frank' Murray has always been special. Their bond has blossomed over eight decades. It's the kind of love that makes your heart flutter and fills you with warmth. This week the Newcastle couple, Australia's longest-living married couple, celebrated 80 years in wedlock. Frank said he first laid eyes on Del, as he affectionately calls her, when he was 17 at a friend's birthday party. Delma was 16. "We used to go dancing on a Saturday night and got to know each other. But I was also playing football and I got hurt and had to go to the hospital," he said. "The fellows I used to play with said to Del, 'Your boyfriend's in the hospital'. She didn't know I was the boyfriend at the time. But she came down and said hello." When Frank was 18, he was enlisted to go to war as part of the 6th Machine Gun Battalion, and stationed in Papua New Guinea. "I had to get leave to come and see her, and then we decided we'd get married," he said. Frank went back to the army and then took absence without leave. He wanted to be with Delma. "I managed to come all the way back to Newcastle by horse and cart, trucks and whatever to get home to Del," he said. But then he was called to go back. "After I finished my time, we started our married life," he said. The lovebirds were wed on June 16, 1945, at St Mark's Church of England, Islington. They became Mr and Mrs Murray. Delma wore an embroidered train. Her veil was arranged with hyacinths and camellias, while she carried a bouquet of roses. The couple's reception was held at the All Saints Hall in Tighes Hill, and Delma said she felt lucky to have a wedding during wartime. "I don't think we had a hot meal. I think we had sandwiches. I don't even remember having a cake. But I was lucky to get the wedding, the wedding dress, the veil and the church," she said. "I was just happy to have a little something." As time went on, Frank and Delma travelled and enjoyed life together. "We had a good time, a good life. We used to go on holidays. We went to England, Hong Kong, New Zealand, and a few other places," Frank said. "But mostly it was just an ordinary married life." They welcomed two daughters, Sandra and Joy, for whom Delma stayed home to care while enjoying cooking, sewing and arts and crafts. Frank worked as a motor mechanic while repairing lawnmowers on the side. The pair would also go to church every Sunday. And as a typical Aussie bloke, Frank said he liked to head to the pub, with Delma's permission, of course. "I used to like the race horses, and I used to go down to the TAB, and she'd let me go have a couple of bevs," he said. Delma is now 101, and Frank is 102 years old. They have five grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren and have been living in a nursing home for the past 18 months. "We don't do much. We just sit down and talk about old times and all that sort of business," Frank said, "But yeah, it's good. I couldn't do without Del," he said. When asked what the secret to a long marriage is, Delma said you've got to have tolerance. "You know it's half and half, you can't have it your own way. I think anyhow. It's been like that with us all the while. You need patience," she said. "You're going to choose to be with them. You're very lucky if you get the right one." Frank said, looking back, time had flown. "I'm telling ya, time goes that quick, you don't realise. So if you're gonna do anything, do it. Don't say I'll do it next year, that's not right. Just do it," he said. "Even now I can't realise that I'm over 100, and here we are." The couple celebrated their anniversary with their nursing home community, a delicious cake, and lunch with family. 80 YEARS is a milestone most marriages never reach, but the love between Delma Earsman and Francis 'Frank' Murray has always been special. Their bond has blossomed over eight decades. It's the kind of love that makes your heart flutter and fills you with warmth. This week the Newcastle couple, Australia's longest-living married couple, celebrated 80 years in wedlock. Frank said he first laid eyes on Del, as he affectionately calls her, when he was 17 at a friend's birthday party. Delma was 16. "We used to go dancing on a Saturday night and got to know each other. But I was also playing football and I got hurt and had to go to the hospital," he said. "The fellows I used to play with said to Del, 'Your boyfriend's in the hospital'. She didn't know I was the boyfriend at the time. But she came down and said hello." When Frank was 18, he was enlisted to go to war as part of the 6th Machine Gun Battalion, and stationed in Papua New Guinea. "I had to get leave to come and see her, and then we decided we'd get married," he said. Frank went back to the army and then took absence without leave. He wanted to be with Delma. "I managed to come all the way back to Newcastle by horse and cart, trucks and whatever to get home to Del," he said. But then he was called to go back. "After I finished my time, we started our married life," he said. The lovebirds were wed on June 16, 1945, at St Mark's Church of England, Islington. They became Mr and Mrs Murray. Delma wore an embroidered train. Her veil was arranged with hyacinths and camellias, while she carried a bouquet of roses. The couple's reception was held at the All Saints Hall in Tighes Hill, and Delma said she felt lucky to have a wedding during wartime. "I don't think we had a hot meal. I think we had sandwiches. I don't even remember having a cake. But I was lucky to get the wedding, the wedding dress, the veil and the church," she said. "I was just happy to have a little something." As time went on, Frank and Delma travelled and enjoyed life together. "We had a good time, a good life. We used to go on holidays. We went to England, Hong Kong, New Zealand, and a few other places," Frank said. "But mostly it was just an ordinary married life." They welcomed two daughters, Sandra and Joy, for whom Delma stayed home to care while enjoying cooking, sewing and arts and crafts. Frank worked as a motor mechanic while repairing lawnmowers on the side. The pair would also go to church every Sunday. And as a typical Aussie bloke, Frank said he liked to head to the pub, with Delma's permission, of course. "I used to like the race horses, and I used to go down to the TAB, and she'd let me go have a couple of bevs," he said. Delma is now 101, and Frank is 102 years old. They have five grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren and have been living in a nursing home for the past 18 months. "We don't do much. We just sit down and talk about old times and all that sort of business," Frank said, "But yeah, it's good. I couldn't do without Del," he said. When asked what the secret to a long marriage is, Delma said you've got to have tolerance. "You know it's half and half, you can't have it your own way. I think anyhow. It's been like that with us all the while. You need patience," she said. "You're going to choose to be with them. You're very lucky if you get the right one." Frank said, looking back, time had flown. "I'm telling ya, time goes that quick, you don't realise. So if you're gonna do anything, do it. Don't say I'll do it next year, that's not right. Just do it," he said. "Even now I can't realise that I'm over 100, and here we are." The couple celebrated their anniversary with their nursing home community, a delicious cake, and lunch with family. 80 YEARS is a milestone most marriages never reach, but the love between Delma Earsman and Francis 'Frank' Murray has always been special. Their bond has blossomed over eight decades. It's the kind of love that makes your heart flutter and fills you with warmth. This week the Newcastle couple, Australia's longest-living married couple, celebrated 80 years in wedlock. Frank said he first laid eyes on Del, as he affectionately calls her, when he was 17 at a friend's birthday party. Delma was 16. "We used to go dancing on a Saturday night and got to know each other. But I was also playing football and I got hurt and had to go to the hospital," he said. "The fellows I used to play with said to Del, 'Your boyfriend's in the hospital'. She didn't know I was the boyfriend at the time. But she came down and said hello." When Frank was 18, he was enlisted to go to war as part of the 6th Machine Gun Battalion, and stationed in Papua New Guinea. "I had to get leave to come and see her, and then we decided we'd get married," he said. Frank went back to the army and then took absence without leave. He wanted to be with Delma. "I managed to come all the way back to Newcastle by horse and cart, trucks and whatever to get home to Del," he said. But then he was called to go back. "After I finished my time, we started our married life," he said. The lovebirds were wed on June 16, 1945, at St Mark's Church of England, Islington. They became Mr and Mrs Murray. Delma wore an embroidered train. Her veil was arranged with hyacinths and camellias, while she carried a bouquet of roses. The couple's reception was held at the All Saints Hall in Tighes Hill, and Delma said she felt lucky to have a wedding during wartime. "I don't think we had a hot meal. I think we had sandwiches. I don't even remember having a cake. But I was lucky to get the wedding, the wedding dress, the veil and the church," she said. "I was just happy to have a little something." As time went on, Frank and Delma travelled and enjoyed life together. "We had a good time, a good life. We used to go on holidays. We went to England, Hong Kong, New Zealand, and a few other places," Frank said. "But mostly it was just an ordinary married life." They welcomed two daughters, Sandra and Joy, for whom Delma stayed home to care while enjoying cooking, sewing and arts and crafts. Frank worked as a motor mechanic while repairing lawnmowers on the side. The pair would also go to church every Sunday. And as a typical Aussie bloke, Frank said he liked to head to the pub, with Delma's permission, of course. "I used to like the race horses, and I used to go down to the TAB, and she'd let me go have a couple of bevs," he said. Delma is now 101, and Frank is 102 years old. They have five grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren and have been living in a nursing home for the past 18 months. "We don't do much. We just sit down and talk about old times and all that sort of business," Frank said, "But yeah, it's good. I couldn't do without Del," he said. When asked what the secret to a long marriage is, Delma said you've got to have tolerance. "You know it's half and half, you can't have it your own way. I think anyhow. It's been like that with us all the while. You need patience," she said. "You're going to choose to be with them. You're very lucky if you get the right one." Frank said, looking back, time had flown. "I'm telling ya, time goes that quick, you don't realise. So if you're gonna do anything, do it. Don't say I'll do it next year, that's not right. Just do it," he said. "Even now I can't realise that I'm over 100, and here we are." The couple celebrated their anniversary with their nursing home community, a delicious cake, and lunch with family. 80 YEARS is a milestone most marriages never reach, but the love between Delma Earsman and Francis 'Frank' Murray has always been special. Their bond has blossomed over eight decades. It's the kind of love that makes your heart flutter and fills you with warmth. This week the Newcastle couple, Australia's longest-living married couple, celebrated 80 years in wedlock. Frank said he first laid eyes on Del, as he affectionately calls her, when he was 17 at a friend's birthday party. Delma was 16. "We used to go dancing on a Saturday night and got to know each other. But I was also playing football and I got hurt and had to go to the hospital," he said. "The fellows I used to play with said to Del, 'Your boyfriend's in the hospital'. She didn't know I was the boyfriend at the time. But she came down and said hello." When Frank was 18, he was enlisted to go to war as part of the 6th Machine Gun Battalion, and stationed in Papua New Guinea. "I had to get leave to come and see her, and then we decided we'd get married," he said. Frank went back to the army and then took absence without leave. He wanted to be with Delma. "I managed to come all the way back to Newcastle by horse and cart, trucks and whatever to get home to Del," he said. But then he was called to go back. "After I finished my time, we started our married life," he said. The lovebirds were wed on June 16, 1945, at St Mark's Church of England, Islington. They became Mr and Mrs Murray. Delma wore an embroidered train. Her veil was arranged with hyacinths and camellias, while she carried a bouquet of roses. The couple's reception was held at the All Saints Hall in Tighes Hill, and Delma said she felt lucky to have a wedding during wartime. "I don't think we had a hot meal. I think we had sandwiches. I don't even remember having a cake. But I was lucky to get the wedding, the wedding dress, the veil and the church," she said. "I was just happy to have a little something." As time went on, Frank and Delma travelled and enjoyed life together. "We had a good time, a good life. We used to go on holidays. We went to England, Hong Kong, New Zealand, and a few other places," Frank said. "But mostly it was just an ordinary married life." They welcomed two daughters, Sandra and Joy, for whom Delma stayed home to care while enjoying cooking, sewing and arts and crafts. Frank worked as a motor mechanic while repairing lawnmowers on the side. The pair would also go to church every Sunday. And as a typical Aussie bloke, Frank said he liked to head to the pub, with Delma's permission, of course. "I used to like the race horses, and I used to go down to the TAB, and she'd let me go have a couple of bevs," he said. Delma is now 101, and Frank is 102 years old. They have five grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren and have been living in a nursing home for the past 18 months. "We don't do much. We just sit down and talk about old times and all that sort of business," Frank said, "But yeah, it's good. I couldn't do without Del," he said. When asked what the secret to a long marriage is, Delma said you've got to have tolerance. "You know it's half and half, you can't have it your own way. I think anyhow. It's been like that with us all the while. You need patience," she said. "You're going to choose to be with them. You're very lucky if you get the right one." Frank said, looking back, time had flown. "I'm telling ya, time goes that quick, you don't realise. So if you're gonna do anything, do it. Don't say I'll do it next year, that's not right. Just do it," he said. "Even now I can't realise that I'm over 100, and here we are." The couple celebrated their anniversary with their nursing home community, a delicious cake, and lunch with family.

SBS Australia

6 days ago

• SBS Australia

The secret language of Aussie workplaces

More resources for language educators Watch Weird and Wonderful Aussie English on SBS On Demand 'Tall poppy! Get down here!' Howie: Have you ever worked in an Aussie office and noticed something… different? Meetings feel more like casual chats. And sometimes… swearing is totally fine. If you're new to Australia, you might ask: 'How should I speak at work?' Let's explore how Aussie attitudes shape the way people communicate at work — and what that says about the culture. One of the most important Aussie values is a fair go — the idea that everyone deserves an equal chance in life and at work. This value shows up everywhere: in sport, in school, and in the workplace. But Aussie culture is full of contradictions. We take fairness seriously, but we also love not taking ourselves too seriously. From construction sites to corporate offices, Aussies use slang, give nicknames, joke around — and yes, often swear. This casual tone reflects an older cultural fascination with folk heroes and the rough-and-tumble spirit. It's part of a long tradition of pushing back against authority — and laughing while doing it. Our modern idea of the Australian worker was shaped by WWI soldiers, known as diggers. While fighting overseas, diggers developed a strong national identity. They embraced the Aussie traits of mateship, humour, and equality. They loved bush poetry, chanted in slang, and didn't show much respect for generals or hierarchy. 'Mate' is a deeply positive word in Australia — but it can also be used in a not-so-friendly tone: 'Maaaate…' (when someone's annoyed). Aussies are famous for using 'bad' words in creative, often affectionate, ways. Swearing has long been part of jobs like soldiering, shearing, and cattle-driving. But even back then, people knew when to tone it down — especially around women or the boss. So yes, swearing happens — but Aussies also know when to keep it clean. 'Fair go' is so sacred, even politicians use it. But not always successfully. Sometimes Aussies don't buy it — especially if the message doesn't pass the pub test. 'Would a regular group of people at the pub believe this?' Aussies also have terms for people who don't seem fair. One of the worst things you can do? Be arrogant. Be a tall poppy. Originally, 'tall poppy' was about cutting down those who were too successful or full of themselves. By the mid-20th century, it also reflected a deeper insecurity — A sense that standing out made people cringe or feel like Australia wasn't good enough. That feeling is known as cultural cringe. Today, tall poppy syndrome still pops up — especially when someone is seen as 'too big for their boots.' While Aussies dislike arrogance, they also can't stand laziness. The term 'bludger' refers to someone who doesn't pull their weight. It's one of the most hated labels in Australian English. To be called a bludger is deeply insulting — and it reflects how much Aussies value hard work and contribution. Aussies have always loved folk heroes — and it shows in how we talk about work. We believe in equality, fairness, and calling things as they are. Even casual talk and swearing can be signs of inclusion — a way to say, 'We're all equals here.' 'I talk to the Prime Minister the same way I talk to my mate at the pub.' Aussie English is still evolving. Sometimes we get the balance wrong. But we can always start by welcoming people from around the world, valuing their voices, and learning from the words they bring. That's what helps Aussie English grow — and what makes the workplace a fairer, more inclusive place for everyone. Weird and Wonderful Aussie English Video production company: New Mac Video Agency