wet 24 hours

Since my last post, it’s poured. The celtis in the back garden look even more beautiful with drooping branches coated in rain drops but bereft of the normal bird life – it seemed sad and rather lonely.  A certain important, to me and his parents and close circle, small person was visiting. He’s left babyhood behind now and entered into toddlerhood although he doesn’t toddle at all – just strides or runs (a new skill) exactly to where he wants to go. Being extremely intelligent and resourceful (of course),  he searches for ideal surfaces for necessary activities.  The low window on the street side is ideal for lining up small vehicles . . . 

. . . . it’s ideal also for looking at the rain. We watch it gushing out of gulleys and down pipes – camera shake allowable in the bad conditions I feel . . . .

 . . eventually we make a foray onto the back balcony, even if we get wet, it’s fine. Bazonka H!  Thanks for the pix, Tom! 

Say Bazonka every day
That’s what my grandma used to say
It keeps at bay the Asian Flu
And both your elbows free from glue.
So say Bazonka every day
(That’s what my grandma used to say)

Don’t say it if your socks are dry!
Or when the sun is in your eye!
Never say it in the dark
(The word you see emits a spark)
Only say it in the day
(That’s what my grandma used to say)

Now folks around declare it’s true
That every night at half past two
If you’ll stand upon your head
And shout Bazonka! from your bed
You’ll hear the word as clear as day
Just like my grandma used to say!  Spike Milligan  Bazonka.