who’s sitting in my chair?

I was last down to breakfast this morning.  Sitting at the head of the table in my usual place is Small Clanger.  Anniemay is such a wag.  (I’m also instructed to tell you that, given I’m using this as my blip, “it’s not yet finished”).

For those who are unfamiliar with our pink knitted breakfast guest, The Clangers where a family of extraterrestrials who lived on a far away planet in the late 1960s and appeared in a BBC children’s television programme.  They communicated with each other and their friend The Soup Dragon, via the sound of a swanee whistle.  Very young children and adults on mind-altering substances appeared able to understand every word they said.

The Clangers have now been given, in the vernacular of modern television, a re-boot and can once again be found on the BBC.  Anniemay knits while she watches, Dan and Kelly laugh (once we explain that it’s not a dumbed-down documentary on space exploration) and all’s right with our particular world.  

I thumb my nose at critics of the licence fee.