Ah, jags, me boy -- 'tis winter here, and, well, the summer's gone and -
"The boikes, the boikes are callin',
From glen to glen,
an' down the mountainside..."
It's not actually winter here, from where I write (not singing so that anyone 'cept me can hear, and you'll be glad of that), 'cos I'm writing from far, far to the South -- but at home in the Ottawa Valley, it's winter for sure, minus something and loadsa snow.
J.
PS: Ages back when the kids were wee, I used to sing (after a fashion) Danny Boy to our son, David, as a lullaby ("Davey boy"). One night I was giving him a bath, and our wonky plumbing was clattering and banging and he said, "Listen, daddy, the pipes are calling."
