Sunday, 1 September 2013
The Machines of the Fields and the Monty Cardboard Robot Club
We are rapidly reaching the end of another years diary (book three) as the school holidays are almost over and the notorious end of holiday machines are starting to clear the fields of crops in order to locate any escaped children who were hoping to hide amongst the wheat and barley. I am resorting to plan B now and growing a large handle bar moustache, OK I am making one out of cardboard and plan to stand about in a masterly way looking important and giving instructions and telling small children to go to bed with no supper, which is what most adults do.
The Ghost Writer is now an official member of the Monty Cardboard Robot Club so that he can use my expertise as a producer of cardboard sculpture to create a cardboard masterpiece. Which the Ghost Writer is planning to give as a present, which is just as well because the one disadvantage to creating great masterpieces in cardboard is that folk will not buy cardboard art. Well they will not buy cardboard art from the Monty Cardboard Robot Club, but then it is a cult organisation and in years to come folk will tell of the legends of its strange and eccentric members who skulked in the shadows of recycling skips discussing the quality of cardboard.
Today by the way has been relatively peaceful; if you ignore the fact huge machines have removed the planned hiding places of small children and Zombies (that’s small Zombies not large Zombies). I have had a chat with Mrs E, the person formally known as Miss I who is planning to sign her name with a squiggly symbol until she has mastered writing her surname quickly. And I have taught the Ghost Writer to paint the sea blue (actually he is rubbish at it) and I have looked for bats.