Cock-A-Doodle-Do!

Cock a doodle do!
My dame has lost her shoe,
My master's lost his fiddlestick,
And knows not what to do.


Cock a doodle do!
What is my dame to do?
Till master's found his fiddlingstick,
She'll dance without her shoe.


No time for togging today. I had to rendezvous in the rain in Chelmsford for a signature and visit, first the village Post Office and then the one in town. This discarded shoe lay on the pavement as the red vans plied to and fro. The Post Office is within tottering distance of four clubs.


I'm very seldom out after dark. I remember seeing girls leaving clubs and walking barefoot on the streets of London in the early hours when I organised an S2000 run into the capital during the Olympics.