That pesky Pangolin is in my waking-head again.
It’s not clear where he comes from,
Or why or when.
It must be because it’s raining,
That is obviously what brings Pangolins out.
So here he is again.
This time the Pangolin has got a mandolin.
A rather strange juxtaposition.
Now for the Pangolin rendition :-
”Ants for breakfast and ants for tea.
Ants for dinner and ants are free.
That’s the story of ants and me.”
All that you are transmitting to me Dear John, a passive watcher of spaces, and a hearer of rumours, is ”Plain and Simple Frustration’? with life as it presents itself today as I read this Blog of yours?
You are suffering from a large dose of ”Ants in one’s pants”? and those pesky ant bites on the BUM?
Never mind I am sure when you awaken from your next slumber, MO will have ‘wiped your brow, read the headlines from the daily press, and as an underground force that you are You may be enlightened, and take Mo! on a mission, or travels of tranquillity, and calmed down to a man of reason?
All theses ‘ants in your pants’, and the current climate in the UK, make one see RED? but again is that the political colour of this autumn, or does one turn green with envy, or show yellow and walk away from all the shanankins that is going on
or blue, being out in the cold and ignored
I recently measured my length, result broken hip? I was chatting as one does to a neighbourly friend, from south of the WATFORD LINE? and described my misfortune as ‘Tipply Tiggs’ which in my northern understanding from my gym classes at primary school, as head over heels- forward roll!
This english Language and those south of the Humber, remain bemused by my colloquialism of my northern roots> What a Shame?