Sunday Morning Funnies!

   An Irish Miracle  

Murphy drops some buttered toast on the kitchen floor and it lands butter-side-up.

He looks down in astonishment, for he knows it's a law of the universe that buttered toast always falls butter-down. 

So he rushes round to the presbytery to fetch Father Flanagan.

He tells the priest that a miracle has occurred in his kitchen. He won't say what it is but asks Fr. Flanagan to come and see it with his own eyes.

He leads Fr. Flanagan into the kitchen and asks him what he sees on the floor.

"Well," says the priest, "it's pretty obvious. Someone has dropped some buttered toast on the floor and then, for some reason, they flipped it over so that the butter was on top."

"No, Father, I dropped it and it landed like that!" exclaimed Murphy.

"Oh my Lord," says Fr. Flanagan, "Dropped toast never falls with the butter side up. It's a mir….

Wait.... it's not for me to say it's a miracle. I'll have to report this matter to the Bishop and he'll have to deal with it. He'll send some people round; to interview you, take photos, etc."

A thorough investigation is conducted, not only by the archdiocese but by scientists sent over from the Curia in Rome. No expense is spared.

There is great excitement in the town as everyone knows that a miracle will bring in much-needed tourism revenue.

Then, after 8 long weeks and with great fanfare, the Bishop announces the final ruling.

"It is certain that some kind of an extraordinary event took place in Murphy's kitchen, quite outside the natural laws of the universe. 

Yet the Holy See must be very cautious before ruling a miracle. All other explanations must be ruled out."

"Unfortunately, in this case, it has been declared 'No Miracle' because they think Murphy may have buttered the toast on the wrong side!"

***

I’m normally a social girl, I love to meet my mates but lately, with the virus here, we can’t go out the gates.

You see, we are the ‘oldies’ now, we need to stay inside.

If they haven’t seen us for a while, they’ll think we’ve upped and died. 

They’ll never know the things we did before we got this old.

There wasn’t any Facebook, so not everything was told.

We may seem sweet old ladies, who would never be uncouth,
but we grew up in the 60s – If you only knew the truth!

There was sex and drugs and rock ‘n roll, the pill and miniskirts.

We smoked, we drank, we partied, and were quite outrageous flirts. 

Then we settled down, got married and turned into someone’s mum, somebody’s wife, then nana, who on earth did we become?

We didn’t mind the change of pace, because our lives were full.
But to bury us before we’re dead is like a red rag to a bull!

So here you find me stuck inside for 4 weeks, maybe more.

I finally found myself again, then I had to close the door!

It didn’t really bother me, I’d while away the hour. I’d bake for all the family, but I’ve got no flaming flour!

Now Netflix is just wonderful, I like a gutsy thriller. I’m swooning over Idris or some random sexy killer.

At least I’ve got a stash of booze, for when I’m being idle. There’s wine and whisky, even gin if I’m feeling suicidal!

So, let’s all drink to lockdown, to recovery and health. And hope this awful virus doesn’t decimate our wealth.

We’ll all get through the crisis, and be back to join our mates

Just hoping I’m not far too wide to fit through the flaming gates! 

Judy