I have just put a new pie bird into my on-line shop, £20.00 including p&p to Europe and United Kingdom. It is too cold in the workshop to get any work done on the big scary vase so it is tightly wrapped in cling film and waiting for a warm front to arrive. We had snow over the weekend!
3 comments:
Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye.
Four and twenty blackbirds,
Baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened,
The birds began to sing;
Wasn't that a dainty dish,
To set before the king?
The king was in his counting house,
Counting out his money;
The queen was in the parlour,
Eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden,
Hanging out the clothes;
When down came a blackbird
And pecked off her nose.
Oh that is so nice, it is true the older you get the more you forget these wonderful poems, I was trying to remember one the other day about see-saws and Marjory Daw.
Personally, the older I get the more I forget recent things, but nursery rhymes will stay with me til the day I die, along with words to hymns, etc ... strange. Love the pie bird!
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