May 16
It’s ten past six in the morning and I’m up and about. The birds are up in the trees singing chirpy chirpy (which is weird, it’s like a dog actually saying “bark”) and I’ve given up sleeping because Cath has spent trying to tickle the bottoms of my feet with her big toe. Lord only knows what she’s dreaming about!
Porbly cycling, swiimming, running or something….
It’s chirpy, chirpy, cheep time here too – God knows I love the little birdies, but perhaps less so in the early hours of the morning : as my Dad said when the birdies ate his seeds – bloody snackers!
I know we’re into May – but nothing compares to an English spring.
http://www.btinternet.com/~brentours/ENGP65.htm
I hope this works.
I remember Grand calling them bloody snackers