ARE THERE KNOW LIMITS TWO THE TALENTS OF ROSIE RYAN?

As the golden morning sun scent its healing balm over the blew heathered bog,it lit up my large artistic visage as I sat at the kitchen table. My grate brane was humming like a desil generater.
I swept the crumbs of the heel of a palm loaf off the table, with a slender, girlish, maidenly hand.
I picked up parchement and green crayon and got to work.
I was in inventer mode, I thought of those who had gone before me, wee Willie Edison, who went out with a kite and discovered lightening, the grate German inventer, Gunner Bic, who invented the pen after he kept breaking the point on his HB pencil. "Gott in Himmel Aggie" he screamed-gutterly, "Damn zees pencils, I wool get a wee plastic tube and fill it with ink. For you pencil" he said "Zee writing is over, gone-Kaput".
"Then there was auld Andy Graham Bell, without Andy's invention, we wood never no when to go too church on a sonday, thank God, auld Andy invented the bell.
During the long dark nite, when the only sound is the silent flapping of the grey, speckled howl, I had an ephipney. "Why has no wan thought of it before"? I exclaimed to my resting drawers, who were hanging from the bedpost like a guardian angel watching over me, all throug the nite. "Its so simple" I muttered "so simple and yet-so oblique"
What I Rosie Ryan had come up with was wellingtons with hi-heels, well may you gasp.
Now wellingtons could be functional AND stylish and the extra hight of the hi-heel wood keep you above the skitter. What a boon for the hard working farmers wife, just wash the skitter of the wellingtons under a running tap and-VOILLA, she was ready to step out in stile and turn heads as she danced the nite away in a pear of green wellingtins, with a six inch stilleto heel.
I was filled with artistic excitment to such an extent that I had too skip two the scullery and utulise the po for a quick slash
I had hit the jackpot this thyme, my musical nickers with the music box in the gusset, never really took off, because of health and safety, water and electric, don't mix.
But this thyme, I could sea know obstacles or road-blocks, but-hey up, I must paitent them before some boy stole my invention. Then I could sea them being shown in a kommercial on UTV, Jimmy Nesbit wood look at Kristine Blakley and say, with a little twinkle in his eye.
"Bay God, Mary Ann, I've never scene you looking so goodlooking, so I haven't, and you look taller two so you do, Bay God woman, you look like a model, how do you di it at-tall, at-tall, at-tall?" And Kristine Blakley wood give a big smile and say, "Ah, Willie John, the secret is, Rosie Ryan's hi-heel wellingtons". Then Nesbit and Kristine wood stand with their arms round wan and other and say into the kamera.
"Now you two kan look more beautiful bye wearing Rosie Ryan's hi-heel wellingtons, available in black or green from all good shoe shops".
I hid my sketches and drawings under the bed, you never no when industrial spies mite be hanging round Clougher and went for a Kate Moss saunter in the bog.
Natures grate beauty hit me up the visage like a hand-grenade. The whins, so, so yella, the biblical burning bush, a feast for the occulars and a place of quite respose for those seeking an alfresco slash. The hopping toads and frogs were bountiful, plump and fat, wearing their Summer coats of green and speckled yella. The air was full of little flying midgets and the low drone of the honeybee penetrated my shell-like lug wholes. Ah, the heather, the bonny, purple heather the refuge for the grey snipe and wee Andy Steward.
Know kuman in site too mar the view are start an argument, just-nature, as it was before auld Adam and Eve came and spoilt it all with their auld Garden of Eden, sexual shennagins.
I stood on tip-toe and drank in the beauty like nectar, I felt the muse descend on my head, like a big, black crow, I opened my artistic gub and roared two the far off hills.

"Ah, natures beauty, fills my hart
With the fragerance of a perfumed fart
Too-nite when squatting for a pee
Your beauty wool come back to me".
Full of the joys of Summer, I ran with out-stretched hands, like a veritable wilderbeast nearing the water whole.