Yes, and how glorious it is too! Now it is a curious phenomena that you cannot be unhappy when you are singing your lungs out!
Now, we don't have any reason to be unhappy, which is an extremely nice thing to be reporting. Because IF you are deeply unhappy but WANT to sing dirges and drip tears into your soup or over your newspaper, you probably won't be singing, are you all with me or loitering at the back of this singing post?
For when you are singing, your head is up and you HAVE TO BREATHE, that's how you get the air into your lungs so you can carry the note!
I know some clever-clogs is going to say "but GeeGee, you don't have lungs, you have air sacks" but it's not me that is singing. It's her, aka my mum, or SWSBO aka she-who-should-be-obeyed. And she is trying to loosen up her vocal cords and get some air into her lungs.
I, meanwhile, am also making a HUGE amount of noise, wisely she has not got her hearing aids in. For the sound of my screeching and whistling would blow her remaining ear drums out into the street and it's a good thing the walls of this flat are thick and our upstairs neighbour is away.
There's is a big racket a'going on.. oh, it is such fun to be happy and mad! Can you imagine being with someone who was dull and gloomy all the time? Oooh, it would be too dreary beyond belief.
Now, I, in fact, everyone knows that there are dreadful things going on in the world, terrible things but terrorists and terrorism must not be allowed to render you witless with fear (unless an act of terrorism is actively happening to you) because if it has, then they have invaded your mind and are winning their evil way.
She says that she has NO idea what she will be singing on Friday, all she knows is that she has to be somewhere at the hour of two of the afternoon clock and she doesn't have to take anything, "just bring yourself" she was told.
It's a mystery and we like mysteries, they're like cardboard boxes, you never know, there maybe something exciting inside or they may be empty, in which case, old Beaky can (and usually does) beak to it to bits.
So in the meantime.. she's a singing and I'm a'bobbing up and down and a'screeching away.. to the sound of music. 'We'll have a barrell of fun. Roll out the barrell. We've got the blues on the run'. Well, that's not a dirge, is it?
In the meantime.. we have learnt some exceedingly happy making news! That Debbie, aka Goaty Mum, has purchased THERMAL boots with liners and now has toasty toes all day long.
My mum sent a message requesting the details of these toasty toe warmers poste haste. Allotments in the depths of winter are cold, wet places and there ain't nothing worse than digging or working when your feet are blocks of ice in rubber boots.. brrr.. sure makes me shivver just to think of cold toes.
LUNCH TIME.. Yippee.. I'm off to see what she has for us to eat.. pureed carrot and parsnip would not go amiss, followed by a crunchy apple.. slurp-the-durp. No, I wrote DURP.. not burp, it's only you guys that burp, birds can't, neither can we fart. Now, that's a subject for another post!
GeeGee Parrot.
February 4th, 2015.
Now, we don't have any reason to be unhappy, which is an extremely nice thing to be reporting. Because IF you are deeply unhappy but WANT to sing dirges and drip tears into your soup or over your newspaper, you probably won't be singing, are you all with me or loitering at the back of this singing post?
For when you are singing, your head is up and you HAVE TO BREATHE, that's how you get the air into your lungs so you can carry the note!
I know some clever-clogs is going to say "but GeeGee, you don't have lungs, you have air sacks" but it's not me that is singing. It's her, aka my mum, or SWSBO aka she-who-should-be-obeyed. And she is trying to loosen up her vocal cords and get some air into her lungs.
I, meanwhile, am also making a HUGE amount of noise, wisely she has not got her hearing aids in. For the sound of my screeching and whistling would blow her remaining ear drums out into the street and it's a good thing the walls of this flat are thick and our upstairs neighbour is away.
There's is a big racket a'going on.. oh, it is such fun to be happy and mad! Can you imagine being with someone who was dull and gloomy all the time? Oooh, it would be too dreary beyond belief.
Now, I, in fact, everyone knows that there are dreadful things going on in the world, terrible things but terrorists and terrorism must not be allowed to render you witless with fear (unless an act of terrorism is actively happening to you) because if it has, then they have invaded your mind and are winning their evil way.
She says that she has NO idea what she will be singing on Friday, all she knows is that she has to be somewhere at the hour of two of the afternoon clock and she doesn't have to take anything, "just bring yourself" she was told.
It's a mystery and we like mysteries, they're like cardboard boxes, you never know, there maybe something exciting inside or they may be empty, in which case, old Beaky can (and usually does) beak to it to bits.
So in the meantime.. she's a singing and I'm a'bobbing up and down and a'screeching away.. to the sound of music. 'We'll have a barrell of fun. Roll out the barrell. We've got the blues on the run'. Well, that's not a dirge, is it?
In the meantime.. we have learnt some exceedingly happy making news! That Debbie, aka Goaty Mum, has purchased THERMAL boots with liners and now has toasty toes all day long.
My mum sent a message requesting the details of these toasty toe warmers poste haste. Allotments in the depths of winter are cold, wet places and there ain't nothing worse than digging or working when your feet are blocks of ice in rubber boots.. brrr.. sure makes me shivver just to think of cold toes.
LUNCH TIME.. Yippee.. I'm off to see what she has for us to eat.. pureed carrot and parsnip would not go amiss, followed by a crunchy apple.. slurp-the-durp. No, I wrote DURP.. not burp, it's only you guys that burp, birds can't, neither can we fart. Now, that's a subject for another post!
GeeGee Parrot.
February 4th, 2015.
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