She is turning into a pest, I know I'm a pest 'cos I take my clothes off but she, Dear Readers, has now developed a sleeping problem and keeps me awake at night. I went to bed on the dot of nine o'clock last night as I was sleepy and quite tired.
She, on the other hand, now wanted to read all manner of written words, numerous newspapers, articles on the web, recipes.. recipes! Why then? Was she planning on cooking these things in the dead of night? Electronic letters from friends to which she tapped replies. You get the picture, there was this hive of activity happening not five feet away from my bed.
So I am, therefore, wanting to strike a deal. Otherwise I want her to go and sleep in the sitting room. Why should I move rooms? My bed is in an especially created space between two large wall units, hers is just a bed, so she could go and sleep on the bed that BUB sleeps on.
But why should it have to be me that strikes a deal with her when she is the one displaying these pestilential behavioural patterns?
Huh.. oh well. Let's crack on with today's news.
Egg, sunflower seeds, hummus with palm nut oil, crusty rye bread.. burp.. are all a great way to start the day and she brought home two mandarin boxes yesterday.. yes.. two! One has our mandarins in it and Karen gave her another, especially for me. Beaky, that famous destroyer of all things carboardy, will be having a grand time later on today!
She's a thoroughly 'nice' woman Karen and is looking twenty years younger now that her ex husband has left London and she's working for someone else - without all the problems that he used to pile upon her shoulders. In the late summer after Jasmine's baby (her grandchild) has been born and the baby is a couple of months old, she's going back to work as a local community nurse.
It's wet and dismal this morning, she's got to wash her hair, get to the Farmer's Market and on the way home, she'll be flashing her membership at the V&A and going to see an exhibition.
So she's off to start her day, me? Tumtum is happy, I'm quite content to be perched up high upon my bedroom pole, and LBC 97.3 is on for my entertainment.
I am also slightly damp! She read an article yesterday from a Parrot breeder who recommended spraying parrots that pluck their feathers with a very mild solution of water & pure apple vinegar.
I can tell you that it works! Ugh! For it is stopping me even thinking about 'nibbling' a feather, I guess it is like Bitter Aloes for children that chew their finger nails, plus, of course, who wants to pluck a damp feather?
So with the happy tune of 'Farewell, Adieu, Auf Wiedersein, Goodbye' ringing out from the top of our bedroom cupboard.. we wish you Farewell.. adieu.. but before she stops tapping, we do want to say "Thank you" to four of our very Dear Readers, Bob, Josephine, Pegeen and Rosamund, they've written emails recently saying that they enjoy reading my blog. HOW nice was that? Very.
GeeGee Parrot.
January 31st, 2016.
PostScript: Dorms is an abbreviation of dormitory, aka a sleeping place.
Usually a large, unheated room full of beds with thin mattresses on a wire frame, two blankets, an eiderdown (if you were lucky, thank goodness she was as Constance (her mother) had also been at boarding school) and no curtains.
Consider yourself extremely fortunate if you didn't ever experience sleeping in such a place.
She, on the other hand, now wanted to read all manner of written words, numerous newspapers, articles on the web, recipes.. recipes! Why then? Was she planning on cooking these things in the dead of night? Electronic letters from friends to which she tapped replies. You get the picture, there was this hive of activity happening not five feet away from my bed.
So I am, therefore, wanting to strike a deal. Otherwise I want her to go and sleep in the sitting room. Why should I move rooms? My bed is in an especially created space between two large wall units, hers is just a bed, so she could go and sleep on the bed that BUB sleeps on.
But why should it have to be me that strikes a deal with her when she is the one displaying these pestilential behavioural patterns?
Huh.. oh well. Let's crack on with today's news.
Egg, sunflower seeds, hummus with palm nut oil, crusty rye bread.. burp.. are all a great way to start the day and she brought home two mandarin boxes yesterday.. yes.. two! One has our mandarins in it and Karen gave her another, especially for me. Beaky, that famous destroyer of all things carboardy, will be having a grand time later on today!
She's a thoroughly 'nice' woman Karen and is looking twenty years younger now that her ex husband has left London and she's working for someone else - without all the problems that he used to pile upon her shoulders. In the late summer after Jasmine's baby (her grandchild) has been born and the baby is a couple of months old, she's going back to work as a local community nurse.
It's wet and dismal this morning, she's got to wash her hair, get to the Farmer's Market and on the way home, she'll be flashing her membership at the V&A and going to see an exhibition.
So she's off to start her day, me? Tumtum is happy, I'm quite content to be perched up high upon my bedroom pole, and LBC 97.3 is on for my entertainment.
I am also slightly damp! She read an article yesterday from a Parrot breeder who recommended spraying parrots that pluck their feathers with a very mild solution of water & pure apple vinegar.
I can tell you that it works! Ugh! For it is stopping me even thinking about 'nibbling' a feather, I guess it is like Bitter Aloes for children that chew their finger nails, plus, of course, who wants to pluck a damp feather?
So with the happy tune of 'Farewell, Adieu, Auf Wiedersein, Goodbye' ringing out from the top of our bedroom cupboard.. we wish you Farewell.. adieu.. but before she stops tapping, we do want to say "Thank you" to four of our very Dear Readers, Bob, Josephine, Pegeen and Rosamund, they've written emails recently saying that they enjoy reading my blog. HOW nice was that? Very.
GeeGee Parrot.
January 31st, 2016.
PostScript: Dorms is an abbreviation of dormitory, aka a sleeping place.
Usually a large, unheated room full of beds with thin mattresses on a wire frame, two blankets, an eiderdown (if you were lucky, thank goodness she was as Constance (her mother) had also been at boarding school) and no curtains.
Consider yourself extremely fortunate if you didn't ever experience sleeping in such a place.
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