I'm Forever Blowing...

With the aid of eco friendly washing up liquid and scissor handles, I been blowing more bubbles and trying to get arty.

Here's a picture of a string of bubbles, as plain as the day they were took, and then again, after a little insoluble editing:

And the best bubble, of all, landed on the floor:

 

I guess that in many ways, this is what I'm all about. Living on the edge; blowing freely with me scribing, and ironing out the wrinkles when I can. 

Big Baby Bathing

If Mister Valance can go posting pictures of himself in the tub, then so can I. Although, I only tend to sing, fully clothed, in church!

(All that pop, pop, popping, I did by meself, ta very much!)

And seeing as I'm on a tub time team, theme even; here's one of my favourite poems:

Baby’s Epitaph – by Anon

A muvver was barfin’ ‘er baby one night,

The youngest of ten, and a tiny young mite,

The muvver was poor and the baby was thin,

Only a skeleton covered in skin,

The muvver turned round for the soap off the rack,

She was but a moment, but when she turned back,

The baby was gorn, and in anguish she cried,

“Oh where is my baby?”

- The angels replied:

“Your baby ‘as fell down the plug ‘ole,

Your baby ‘as gone down the plug,

The poor little mite was so skinny and thin

‘E oughter been barfed in a jug,

Your baby is perfectly ‘appy,

‘E won’t need a barf anymore,

Your baby ‘as fell down the plug-‘ole,

Not lost, but gone before.”