Life’s Too Short

As I was reaching the end of the lock in my canal trips with the Narrow Dog, and hugely enjoying the tales of Mr Darlington’s past life as well as his adventures with boat and dogs, I dropped into his website, mainly to catch photos from the latest trip and news after the launch of the book.  I was saddened to hear that a stroke had resulted in a period in intensive care, and memories of my old man’s spell in the charge of those fantastic nurses came flooding back.  But he’s back home on the road to good health, actually both of them are.

Life though is far too short, as most of us realise from time to time.  So I thought I’d bring you a little ditty from the pen of a man for whom it was too short by a huge distance, but lived to the full.  And a couple of hundred years later we celebrate that life yet.  These are the words of Mr Burns:

There was twa wives, and twa witty wives,
As e’er play’d houghmagandie,
And they coost out, upon a time,
Out o’er a drink o’ brandy;
Up Maggy rose, and forth she goes,
And she leaves auld Mary flytin,
And she f-rted by the byre-en’
for she was gaun a sh-ten.

She f-rted by the byre-en’
She f-rted by the stable;
And thick and nimble were her steps
As fast as she was able:
Till at yon dyke-back the hurly brak,
But raxin for some dockins,
The beans and pease cam down her thighs,
And she cackit a’ her stockins.

Anyway, I was asked yesterday what sort of books it was I tended to buy; fiction pehaps?  Not a lot of fiction , thought I, and pretty selective.  Occasionally some culture, though the latest volume from the quill of Rabbie Burns may be the lie to that.  I’ll spare you ‘Nine Inch Will Please a Lady’, from the same volume, for the moment.

Now forgive me, but the Narrow Dog and the whippets are calling out, one last time.

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