I used to sit behind her at school
She was pale with a pigtail
I used to count her vertebrae,
Numbered the lines of the darn
In her well-worn dress,
She was thin, undernourished.
She asked me one day
Would I go for walk with her?
Grandma Moran said to say no,
‘She’s far too bold, I tell ye,
I know the Callahan’s.
You’ll be giving her a wide berth now.
Heavens above! You’re no more than twelve.’
But how could I refuse.
By the waterside we wandered
Where the elder blossom hung heavy.
‘Til we came to the weir where we turned
And walked in innocence while she told me
Things she had could tell to no o
I was standing at the bus stop. Two middle aged dogs walked past me side by side, quiet and purposeful, female Jack Russell terriers, no collars, no jackets, no lead. A couple of nice old girls.
They stopped three feet away, sat down and looked down the street in the direction that the bus would come from. The young fellow, who owns them, Tim, a joiner on his way to work, followed shortly.
We began a dog-centred conversation from which it emerged they were sisters from the same litter. Remarkably, for such a well-behaved pair, I learned that neither had ever worn a collar. Tim was taking them to grandma’s (his mother’s) for the
BBC Shipping Forecast Announcer's Double Tetractys
Winds Beaufort Scale ten backing cyclonic
Patches of fog
Heavy rain
Hail
Sole
Dogger
German Bight
South East Iceland
Don't look at me like that it's not my fault!