Thursday, 14 March 2013

I knew it . . .

The Queen and my Aunt Lily are the same person.

Aunty L didn't really pass away, she just moved from her bungalow in Poole to Balmoral, taking with her the hearth rug, the electric fire, all the nic-nacs, her white perm, a range of nice cardigans and her black handbag.
I don't remember her being quite so formal with folk generally though, more a quick peck on the cheek, leaving a dob of bright pink lipstick and a whiff of Boots best cologne.

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