This morning finds me in reflective mood, humbled by the thoughts of having so much, even as I write the folk dearest to me sleep, resting, even Kippy sprawled out in front of the fire. My friends list on FB, each picture a smile and a warming memory of a long road
Enough, enough I say, can we be done with this festive piffle and get on with something a tad more relevant and fitting to the currant Global situation, such as the drastic drop in Giraffe numbers or the Russian and Syrian Government’s bomb blindness. Aleppo at all cost, and what a cost, these people are converting live rounds into empty cases, houses into empty shells and peoples lives into the turmoil of survival.
To push all this hurt aside and think of how many Budgies you can get on an average 9inch skewer is no easy task, but it has to be done, I only wish I was in a position to do something helpful and constructive, but I’am not, maybe this writing is my bucket of sand and makes the pill easier to swallow.
Swallow! Where? On the lawn, eating the crochet hoops. In the time it’s took me to write that line, it makes me think, makes me think of how many tears have fallen down the child’s grubby cheek, or, what is the average size of a flock of Budgerigars.
Earlier I said “I only wish I was in a position to do something helpful and constructive”. Well, I’am in a fantastic position as it happens. I intend to let the warmth of Christmas melt the tuf inner core of ignorant oblivion and become more obsequious.
If by some remote chance you are still reading this ask yourself but one question, and that question is, does Donald Trump wipe is own arse, or has he got a designated monkey butler.
By the way, you can get 4 Budgies on a skewer, but don’t over cook them pop pickers.
Coffee time, bis gleich.
Categories: Burning the Midnight Oil