International Women's Day

What better than to post a picture of a wonderful woman I share an Art Class with on a Friday morning.  Jenny has been learning the ukulele and gave us a rendition of 'Mrs Johnson' this morning which goes like this.

(For those that remember her, think Pam Ayres...)

Mrs Johnson was a woman I didn't know much about.
I only saw her Tuesdays when she hung her washing out.
She always wore a floral dress beneath her pinafore.
Mrs Johnson lived next door to me at number 34.

She hated little girls and she hated little boys They all had, too much fun and they all made too much noise! 
She hated cats, she hated dogs, she hated singing birds.
Mrs Johnson was a woman, a woman of few words.

‘Good morning Mrs Johnson’. ‘Bugger off ‘, she’d cry 
‘Nice day Mrs Johnson.  Bugger off ‘ was her reply!
Can I have my ball back? ’’Bugger off ‘, she cried!
All she said was bugger off. Then bugger me she died.

Mrs Johnson’s funeral was the first I ever saw.
A long black, shiny car passing slowly past the door.
She always had a fag on which explained her nasty cough. 
She was only 42 when Mrs Johnson buggered off!

Her death was such a sudden thing, 
She never brought her washing in
Behind the car were mourners though they were very few
A woman with a push chair from number 42.

There weren’t too many flowers,  just roses from the wall, 
But a bunch of stinging nettles would have been more suitable. 
I doubt that she had children or else they would have come. 
No flowers that spelled grandma, no flowers that spelled mum. 

Mrs Johnson disappeared beneath a table cloth. 
And a bunch of carnations that said ‘Bugger off’
Farewell Mrs Johnson, You’re leaving us today.
Nice to see you Mrs Johnson,’ Bugger off’ she’d say. 

There’s good in everybody! Bugger off was her reply! 
All she said was ‘ Bugger off, and then she went and died’.

Happy International Women's Day to all the women I know and love!