"Why was it momentous?" I hear you cry, "have all the world's nations decided to work together to achieve peace? Has global warming been solved? Has Bolly been permanently discounted?"
Crikey no, none of that rubbish (although the Bolly bit would make me happier than a kangaroo with two cocks).
Here's a clue: Diem natalem felicem mihi!
Yesterday was ...... wait for it ........... [drum roll and cymbals resulting in an impressive climax] ...... my birthday! Yep, yesterday I reached the grand age of 42. I don't think that ladies are supposed to disclose their age, but I am blase about things like that, and some may even argue that I am not a lady because I have never had my nails done. Anyway, according to Hitch hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the answer to everything is 42. That's got to be an omen.
Ecce, denuo ago, sicut soleo! Non enim possum facere quin Latine loquar [oh, darn, there I go again! You know, I just can't help speaking Latin].
And because I am kind like Ghandi, except that I wear designer flip-flops, I have got some pictures for you.
Pic.No.1 My chum from the village, Agnieszka, gave me this lovely bunch of flowers and a Polish chocolate bar, except I ate that immediately
Pic.No.2 Then Izzy and Steve turned up with more flowers and some cards ........
Pic.No.3 Very solemnly, Izzy handed me the presents she had chosen. Then she instantly took them back so that she could "help" me unwrap them. In fact, thinking about it, I wasn't actually needed in the proceedings. But I did end up with some Kenzo perfume and a picture frame with a picture of her in it. Bloody marvellous!
Pic.No.4 If flowers, cards and presents weren't enough, Steve had also arranged a meal out at a gastro-pub called The Mole Inn, in a village called Toot Baldon
As you have probably guessed, I love eating out, I do. And I was particularly impressed with him choosing The Mole Inn because it's got a great reputation in Oxfordshire. And although the food was lovely, I have to admit that I found it a bit odd.
I ordered the lamb as my main course. But when the meal was served, I ended up more perplexed than a bee attempting to fly through a window pane.
On the left hand side of the plate, there was the lamb, sitting on a bed of minted chard, peas and potato. Then on the right hand side of the plate, there was a pot of vegetable Korma curry, with a poppadum on top. It was the weirdest combination of food that I have ever experienced. It tasted great, it's just that I wouldn't have put it all together.
I still scoffed it all though because it was free.
Pic.No.5 Izzy insisted on eating her entire meal with a rosette stuck to her forehead, and a Peppa Pig tag dangling in front of her nose
Pic.No.6 Izzy congratulated me on my birthday
All in all, a bally good time was had by all. And just in case you were wondering whether I accept belated presents .... I do. And I also accept all major credit cards.
An update about Naughty George
After I posted about Naughty George crapping on the kitchen floor and Izzy skidding through the subsequent detritus, a couple of you (well, mainly Anne Boleyn - hey chick!) expressed concern that he might have an underlying illness and suggested I get him checked out.
Given that NG is about 17 years old, it seemed like a sensible suggestion to me. So on Friday afternoon, I dragged him (he didn't take a single step and left two lines behind him in the dirt) to the Vet's surgery.
Pic.No.7 This is Naughty George at the Vet's Surgery. He was not a happy bunny ... see that window that he is looking at? He tried to escape through it, even though it doesn't open
He instantaneously knew where he was and started sweating and shaking like a Paris Hilton in a sex video. The vet eventually called us in, and asked me to put NG on the examination table.
"That's not a good idea," I said to her.
She dismissed me with a smile. "We'll give it a go."
I duly picked up NG and plonked him on the table. He woofed vacuously, standing still for maybe 15 seconds (to lull her into a false sense of security), before launching himself off the table, towards the general direction of the door.
Luckily, I managed to catch the git before he hit the tiles and did himself an injury.
And so it transpired that the vet examined George on her knees in the corner of the room, next to the exit. She listened to his heart, looked in his ears, shone a torch in his eyes, felt his abdomen, and prodded around his chocolate starfish (that has gotta command a six-figure salary).
Finally, she stood up and proclaimed; "there's nothing wrong with your dog ......... He is unbelievable for his age," before adding; "he is a bit cloudy around his peripheral vision, but other than that, he's got years left in him."
The only recommendation was that I feed him 'Senior Dog Food', which is more readily absorbed into the system, thus creating fewer doggy missiles, and eliminating brown surfing in the kitchen.
So there you go ...... the mutt has got the constitution of an Ox, just like his owner.
Vid.No.1 And if the vet's conclusion wasn't enough, here is NG on his daily walk this afternoon (11 seconds)