Sunday 7 July 2013

AND SO IT CAME TO PASS ON THE SEVENTH DAY OF THE SEVENTH MONTH AFTER SEVENTY SEVEN YEARS..

SHE is so hyper-sensitive to HER 'sevens' that the only birthday parties SHE has given have had to be in a year with as many sevens as possible!

7.7.77 was a good one and 07.07.07 was also a good 'knees-up'.. cockney slang for a party.. 

So how or why it slipped past HER that it was 77 years this year since Fred Perry won Wimbledon, the last British player to win the mens' title.. heaven only knows! 

And so it came to pass.. that after seventy seven years.. on the seventh day of the seventh month.. a Brit won the mens' title.. without HER having a bet on it.. What is OUR world coming to? 

Well.. the very nice thing is that SHE has lots of "thank you's" to say to all of the Dear Readers who have emailed "happy birthday to HER" today.

And what a lovely day it was too.. WE eat strange things sometimes to break that norty fast and today it was peppers with buttered eggs.. sounds weird.. trust ME, it was truly delicious! SHE slurped coffee, I slurped cold LappySang.. 

HER jaunt to the garden was not until early afternoon, I was originally going too but as the temperature rose towards 30 degrees, I kid YOU not, SHE decided I was better off at home in the cool.. far too hot on buses for small fat grey folk.

SHE had a lovely time and returned with a brown face.. some folk go pink.. SHE goes brown. 

It annoys folk intensely but HER skin has always been like this, mind YOU, SHE does brew a pretty powerful witches potion to use when old Son is shining his torch on HER because SHE makes all HER own skin care products. 

SHE truly is HER fathers' daughter.. there was not 
much Hugo didn't know about the chemistry of skin care.. 

So SHE is home and I want a kiss-and-a-cuddle and to eat human food and to hear all about HER day.. so pip pip Dear Readers.. pip pip.

I'll squeak in the week.. 

GeeGee Parrot.
July 7th, 2013.

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