...Jiggity Jig.
My mother used to say that, almost every time we drove into the driveway, although I have no idea why.
But in any case, Mr. Muscato and I are back to our (surprisingly cloudy) Sultanate by the Sea, to an ecstatically happy dog and the unhappy discovery that the something - being a pessimist, I'm blaming our local Internet filter, which seems to have ratcheted up in our absence - is preventing me from posting further photos.
Depriving you, my darlings, of all sorts of richness. Well, where there's a will there's a way, and, one hopes to be back at full force soonest.
welcome home. My family also chanted that same doggrel
ReplyDeleteHome again, home again
Jiggety Jog
I went to Market to buy a fat hog
I'm not sure how well that suits a home situated in an Islamic society, but, you know, whatever.
I don't know that I ever heard the second stanza! Mother likely thought the word "hog" vulgar. It was that kind of childhood, which explains a lot, no?
ReplyDeleteOn the other hand, while you're quite right that we are porcine-deprived hereabouts, I'm content. You know you've reached a certain age when you go to Amsterdam and the illicit substance you most enjoy is ham. I've had enough to last six months or so...
Welcome back Muscato. Glad you seem to have brought some nice cool weather with you.
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