Chimchimeree

We were expecting the chimney sweep at 4:00pm. No sign of him. MrQ started to step in time, round the chimney step in time, flap like a birdie step in time. I amused myself by reading William Blake.

A little black thing among the snow, 
Crying "weep! 'weep!" in notes of woe! 
"Where are thy father and mother? say?" 
"They are both gone up to the church to pray. 

Because I was happy upon the heath, 
And smil'd among the winter's snow, 
They clothed me in the clothes of death, 
And taught me to sing the notes of woe. 

And because I am happy and dance and sing, 
They think they have done me no injury, 
And are gone to praise God and his Priest and King, 
Who make up a heaven of our misery." 

But this is not the 1790s, jovial sweeper and his son arrived at 6:00pm. I shot the disappointingly tiny brush as it popped out of the pot in a cloud of soot. Sweeper twirled a classic brush for me. Looks a bit zoom-blur. :)