cool dawn Ayr

As the wingpiglet showed no sign of wanting to go back to sleep after waking up at around half five and gave no indication that he would get bored of grabbing our noses and ears and attempting to get close enough to the metal headboard to try and gnaw it I gave in, got up and took him out for a jiggle past the gasometer, round the back of the scrapyard, along the seafront then back over the railway and back to the house via a newspaper-shop when he started looking a bit red about the snout and sneezed out an enormous slug of snot onto his upper lip.