It's Iggle-Piggle! The only TV programme Katy even pretends to watch is In the Night Garden , where the tiniest happenings contribute to what passes for a storyline, everyone has their own little song (incongruously and not always very accurately performed by narrator Derek Jacobi), and every episode concludes with the same 'going to sleep' routine. A very successful concept. Three significant tiny happenings this week. A 6th tooth has appeared, without any hassle. For the first time Katy put 'her' CDs back into the box she'd tipped them them out of (quote from the nursery staff: "She's a right one for taking things out of boxes"). As a librarian, I find this reassuring. Perhaps most exciting: she has been confidently pushing her trolley up and down the hallway with all the control of a rally car driver. Surely independent steps can only be days away?
Comments
You know, if her shirt were a guitar and the hoops frets, she'd be holding down a 7+9 - the famous Hendrix chord (in the first inversion). A rock chick in the making?
But to move on to more important matters:
Brahms had long arms.
By me. Roughly following the internal rhyme scheme. (With apologies to Clio. And anyone with the slightest affection for scansion):
Brahms had long arms.
One day, so men say,
He was dancing and prancing
At a ball, in a hall.
A fellow, all mellow,
Was stumbling and tumbling
And retching and leching.
Drunk as a lord. Oh, Gord!
Brahms reached out, and preached out:
"You distress. You're a mess!"
With his long arms, his strong arms,
He hit out at the the nit.
The nit bled from his head.
Brahms' big long arms
Led him to bed.
(Heaving whilst leaving)
Some guests asked, distressed:
"Who is that doofus?"
As he cried, Brahms replied:
It's Liszt. He's piszt.
__________________________
Do I get the prize?