The African Queen, Captain Flint the Parrot and the supermarket.

Are not computers complex beasts; and as someone who lives inside the universe of cyberspace, the space created within the complex structure that computers create when all linked together then I do think I am in a good position to judge. It is all a bit like Doctor Who really where the space in the box is greater than the external physical dimensions of the box.

The Einstein Cube is all a bit like that too and as I said a long time ago it achieves all this by being a seven sided cube allowing it to exist within parallel universes although not yours (as in you the readers, unless you are reading in my universe, which is even a more complex story).  Still I don’t use it much I am quite happy to walk to most places or go in the car and the like.

After the preview last night at Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop it has been very quiet today, I think part of the reason is it is Hot and close and muggy so it is quite difficult to move about. It’s a bit like being on the boat in the movie The African Queen only without water or boats or Humphrey Bogart and Katharine Hepburn and leaches and hippos although Captain Flint the Parrot says he saw The African Queen once when she was walking through the big shopping centre. Mum told Captain Flint he was an Idiot, not a good move because Captain Flint then repeats this for at least an hour. So all afternoon we have had the parrot shouting. Pieces of eight, Polly’s an Idiot HAR HAR HAR HAR Hardy HAR. Things go better with coke particularly the african Queen. stoke the boiler, watch out for hippo’s ……………… hahhahahhhhar har.

As we all know today is the day before tomorrow and we all know what happens tomorrow don’t we? Mmmmmmm to tell the truth I’m not sure I do so I will let you know tomorrow night. It may involve mutant radio active ants and spies confused by long periods of time dressed as detectives from the world of fiction and a steam powered recycling bug that fell over when its front legs slipped on oil at the edge of the inspection pit in the garage. On the other hand it might be a nice peaceful day. Mr Jenkins just shouted Hooray. But mum has said IDIOT

No nothing to write tonight ......... Night off, so go away

I have decided to have a night off from writing my diary. I have been very good and except for extenuating circumstances such as the spying mission and going off on holiday in a rickety shed and being very poorly the once I have never missed a day (not as hello where has that gone but as writing my entry).

I could just mention that the man from Italy seems OK, as he says it’s not his fault he has to bury people in bridges and chop the heads off horses it is just part of the job. Which is why he wants to move to Wales we don’t do stuff like that very often. 

Anyway just thought I say that in passing and maybe it is sunny and there is a preview at Nelson Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop tonight so will be at that eating Twiglets YUM I like Twiglets. So there we are you see that’s it I am writing nothing else for now as I have things to do and am having the night off to chill although its not cold.

stealth, guile and cunning, concrete overshoes and a can of Iron Bru

The corporate sponsors have made a complaint that we have gone back to being a classic tale of suburban life sort of Adrian Mole but without the Coca-Cola, and that they would prefer a good swashbuckling tale than an everyday story of me a dog and a grumpy Ghost writer.

Lou Reed

Of course my diary is a diary and I have told the sponsors that because it’s a diary I write what happens to me, but they insist I should lie a bit because that’s what they do. Well that’s a bit of a shock I would have never thought that a large multinational business would lie even a bit when it is advertising its product. Mum said IDIOT when I said that, and the dog. Dad recons we should do rude gestures at them because the dog has stopped drinking Coca Cola, none of us drink it now and dad is only using it now to polish Rusty the Robot Dog.  The dog thinks we should change allegiance to Iron Bru instead or Aberdeen Morning Rolls, me and the dog would like that we can not understand why we can’t get them south of Peterhead, or 400 miles north of us. NOT FAIR.

The Italians who were interested in buying mum and dad’s quirky house have turned up again, but this time they are very keen to offer us concrete overshoes as a gift to help the transaction progress. Dad and the dog said they would attack then with the flame thrower but mum thinks its not a good move. Ironically a good move is what we would like to do. Mum and dad say it is a lovely quirky strange house and garden but they fancy somewhere where they can chill, and people don’t arrive through the walls with a large axe and sea chests full of gold.

I will get to meet the Italians tomorrow and psychoanalyse then using stealth, guile and cunning. Mum said IDIOT again. The Italians apparently have only recently got to the UK and were delayed as they had business to attend to (the dog has added to that nudge nudge wink wink say no more).

I spent most of the day moving large paintings about by Mr Dave Whiley who is a very clever man and one of our favourite artists in readiness for tomorrow evenings preview so am well tired now.

The Blogs gone very quiet again what’s happening there then?         

Tunnels. Dust. HTML and Mr Steven Spielberg's ghost

Sorry yesterday was all a bit short and to the point (I have never worked out exactly what the short pointy thing actually is), everything was a bit manic, and in the rush I even forgot my guitar lead so last night although I had an Amp and a guitar I was unable to make lots of noise. Everyone said IDIOT; still I got to drum loads and made a lot of noise with that.

I was going to contact Jim and Mercedes to see when they are planning to turn up. I know it is very soon. But my network connection was not set up so the ghost Writer had a little go at fixing things only he threw a large IT manual at the wall in a strop and said that’s all rubbish. I think he was referring to the manual not the wall although the book did dislodge a brick, which I discovered had a secret tunnel behind it. The dog and Rusty the Robot dog and Pirate Pete said they love secret tunnels behind walls so we all had to go exploring. The Ghost writer was complaining he was due in Brecon soon.

We walked through all these dark low tunnels with cobwebs and pointy metal spikes in the ceiling and shackles and chains on the wall and old sea chests full of skulls and gold and things. In the end we came up against a bricked up door, the dog did offer to do Invisible Chinese Walking through the wall but me Rusty and Pirate Pete thought we would just hit the bricks with a large axe we found. Well there was no deigning we were all very surprised at what we saw once the dust settled down, because we had broken through into the hallway by the front door and mum was there and she said IDIOTS.

Apparently according to dad it was the old stairwell to the original house but is was a very indirect route so got bricked up years ago. Mum made us all rebuild the wall and clear all the dust up, including the Ghost Writer because it was his fault throwing large HTML books about in the first place which caused all the dust. The Ghost Writer said NOT FAIR and he never fixed my network or the one in Brecon so he will be shouted at now.................  Have I done all this before, I cant remember?

Finally Shakespeare, the bloke who wrote stuff (I don’t think that very nice Mr Steven Spielberg has made the movie yet) is up at the castle tonight doing a play. I can only assume it is the ghost of Shakespeare who must be a friend of the ghost of Steven Spielberg who lives in the wood. Unfortunately it is raining so I hope everyone has a brolly.    

Djembe and the Watkins 44 guitar, art and the supermarket

Off at the supermarket this morning to shop, it was not quite as bad as it could have been considering it is the big summer holiday but still YUK. Then we all had pork pies and Walnut bread and cheese for lunch. As I think I have said before normally I have dinner at lunchtime and tea at dinner time but that’s all wrong so its lunch midday and dinner in the evening. Although dad did come in and say great dinner at lunch time.

The Ghost writer in grumbling and complaining he has to put ten of the PC’s in his car to take them to Brecon tomorrow to store then. I have offered to go too and the dog and Rusty the Robot dog and even Sooty the Cat but only because he thinks there might be more food to eat in Brecon.

And I am going to Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop this afternoon in a bit to help move pictures. There is a new exhibition starting so the Preview is on Saturday. The new Exhibition is by David Whiley and we all like his work a lot he is a very good artist.

Finally I am off out tonight to play Djembe (An African Drum) and guitar (dad’s old left handed Watkins Rapier 44) with a Marshal Amp so lots of noise. Which means it is a rather (very) short diary entry today.  

Thirty Computers in a Fiat Multipla and Russian roulette with a catapult

The Ghost Writer had to collect thirty PC’s today so I said I would help him, He has to set them up for the grey office and some other grey offices. It was jolly hard work we had to carry everything about 100yards through all these corridors with dust and workers in to get everything to the car. And it was very hot at the time and everyone else vanished, so no help.

The Ghost Writer said it happens all the time people tend to vanish when there is something heavy to carry. He even tried to prove it too me by shouting free ice creams while waving ice creams above his head. Well there were suddenly lots of people all over the place, but when he said OK lets move all these heavy PC’s they all ran off. He grumbled for a bit then.  It’s the Ghost Writer who owns the Fiat MultiPla and once it was loaded up with 31 PC’s and all the associated stuff it was well down on the suspension. He was planning on trying to get forty of them in the car but decided that because we had to drive over a whole series of speed humps to get off the premises maybe thirty was the limit. Anyway we got them all back to his house fine, the car was well impressive with all that lot in the back but of course we had to take it all out at the other end. And although the dog and Rusty the Robot Dog came to help they said they did not have hands, only paws and it is not possible to hold PC’s with paws. The ghost writer was grumbling again and said they manage to hold ice creams, in fact they managed to eat all the ice cream while me and the Ghost Writer got all the stuff out of the car and into the house.

As you might expect the Ghost Writer was well angry then and was leaping about shouting about the dogs eating all his ice cream so me and the dogs thought it best to go home then where mum gave us all ice cream for helping the Ghost Writer. We thought it best not to say he was in a strop and waving his arms about but mum did happen to mention that a giant flock of ants had stolen his ice cream last night and he had gone off  to the shops this morning for fresh supplies. It also appears he gave chase to the ants last night but a huge creature ended up chasing him. So all his plans of late have not gone entirely to plan.

Anyway I am exhausted now, the Ghost Writer is exhausted, the dog and Rusty the Robot Dog are exhausted (from eating ice cream?) and Captain Flint the Parrot and Pirate Pete have headaches from playing Russian roulette with a catapult and Captain Flint’s Brazil nuts.

A parallel multi-universe, Miss Fionaski the famous Russian spy and Ant Day

What a strange world we all live in, but as I have said before I have the advantage that no one gets hurt in mine and although they come and go and get squashed or eaten by huge creatures in the woods at night, AH (I don’t think that has happened yet has it).  But fundamentally everyone is OK in my world, which sadly is much less clear cut in the real world.

However the Ghost Writer says it is possible and very likely that his world (Yours) is a multi-dimensional one, far more complex than people can comprehend (with the exception of the dog) and that it is not beyond the possibility that everyone will end up in my world. After all as he says once a world exists in any form even in the mind. Who is to say that it therefore can not exist in any dimension? So I am as real as the ghost writer at some point in time and space, in a parallel multi-universe. Of course as mum points out if that is true and it all went slightly wrong for the Ghost Writer he could end up in a Bill and Ben the Flower Pot Men world or even worse I could end up in a Harry Potter Sequel when he’s seventy three and is head whizo at Hogworts with the big pointy hat giving out points like Nelson Beelzebub does.

See how kind I am I have just given then a whole new angle to run off another six books and make a fortune in the movie game and will they thank me NO. I still haven’t heard a word from that nice Mr Steven Spielberg yet. I am sure he can’t be that busy after all he is in Hollywood not Bollywood where they run off films at twenty eight a week to keep the punters happy. Maybe I should get Bollywood to make the movie it would be full of dancing and songs then and there could be mechanical elephants in it and stuff like that and we would get curry after filming at night YUM (that may not be true and just the stereo-typical western ghost writer being stereo-typical).

Just in case your wondering the Ghost Writer was in the grey office today so that’s why we are all grumbling it has been a nice sunny day and I am expecting Jim to turn up in the next couple of days to go exploring in the woods (where someone might be eaten by a huge beast in the night……….YAHHHH). Mum just said IDIOT (me not the huge beast I think).

Finally I must add that Miss Fionaski the famous Russian spy  has informed me it is Ant Day in Montgomery. So it is off on the ant hunt tonight in the woods looking for ants. And the Ghost Writer would like to add flobalob alob alob flob ……………. Weeeeeeeeeeed. Well there is only one word that sums that up and we all know what it is.

A herd of steam driven things and a hitch hiking Squirrel

What a lovely day it felt just like summer. Bit of a shock really but the law of averages and dimensioning exponentials when taking into account random elements such as that butterfly in the rain forest; that keeps starting all the storms in the Northern hemisphere. Would suggest that we should manage at least two or three days without rain. 

Punctuation has gone completely to pieces there but no one will notice in the movie, although they might in the book. Mum says most people don’t understand punctuation anymore, certainly me and the Ghost Writer don’t have a clue we just stick things in periodically. Mum said IDIOTS, the dog is now asking me about the periodic table and why am I doing physics and chemistry on my holiday when it’s sunny. NOT FAIR. I’m confused now.

I helped dad in the garden today we had a good tidy up and put some of Pirate Pete’s Steam powered things in the workshop because they were starting to form a herd and were moving round the garden eating the grass and hissing and whining and stuff. It was quite useful not having to cut the grass but mum objected to them eating all the flowers and shrubs. Pirate Pete says they were all proto-types for his own stream powered parrot since he is not allowed to have Captain Flint the parrot. He has not built the final version yet so we all await with interest as some of the proto-types are six feet tall and must weigh at least three tons.

We hade a takeaway curry on the patio tonight as it is still warm with loads of Moroccan lanterns and candles (We didn’t eat the lanterns and candles) so it looked very cool. And we saw a happy looking squirrel on the road just outside the house when we picked up the takeaway; I think he was hitch hiking. The dog said the squirrel must be nuts to hitch hike these days but then fell about laughing. Mum said IDIOT but I don’t really know if she means the squirrel or the dog.   

Bad news and a happy Rabbit

Bad things in the news today and although I try to quietly weave the real with our strange alternative world sometimes it is not possible. Maybe one day people will come to realize that brutal extreme acts of violence against ordinary society change nothing, particularly in a world of international commerce and politics where ordinary people have little influence.

Amy Winehouse died today another bit of sad news

I feel all I can do is continue my tale as a very small voice in a very big world so :-

As a result of the sun shining dad is working on a new solar barbeque with Pirate Pete and the dog although mum recons by the time they perfect it; it will be dark or raining again.  Dad has tried alternative cooking technology before; he had a go at boiling an egg on the exhaust manifold of his car because he saw that once on a television set (not the egg, the idea). But the police said that it was not a good idea to have a dog sat on the engine with a frying pan will we were doing seventy miles an hour in the fast lane of the motorway. While a parrot shouted left or right on the aerial because dad could not see the road.

Our gas barbeque has been borrowed today but when we tried to deliver it we got trapped in holiday traffic in Newtown. We forgot that this is the first weekend of the English school holidays which are different to the Welsh ones. A point worth noting if you are passing Newtown, is on holidays and at busy times do not even try. It was only by throwing overcooked sausages at people we managed to get through. What is worrying dad is we have to go back and get it later so we might attach a large spiky thing to the car.

In cyberspace I have noticed Mrs Benn, who was the one who told us that the Thames is not in Scotland and who lives somewhere near the Thames was trying to find a home for a cockerel. Cyberspace is not really the place to find homes for cockerels, the local Post Office window would be better. I don’t mean the cockerel should live in the window, just that a nice advert would help. Mrs Benn is married to Mr Benn, they appear to be nice people although when they see me they go AAAAuuuughghhhhhhh and you can never tell in cyberspace, I think they think I am mad (a bit mad). And I think the Thames must be near the Scottish borders up north somewhere even if it not actually in Scotland because no one would really want to live in the South YUK. They are all grumpy and it’s noisy.

Finally I saw a rabbit today jumping about and looking happy and we are all off to have our evening meal on the patio as it is still warm.

Polish Cats, Polecats, obscure film festivals and Channel Four

Sooty is so pleased to be back he is driving everyone mad still. Everyone except Heavy Harry the Cat is trying to be nice to him but it is not always easy. For example Sooty has insisted in writing something in my diary to say he is really pleased to be home so here it is ........ Fdkjwod fowofo bflblle who eur  og ;gghtewfjsdjfjfj fjggsdgjgjdjgh fish  welweeiidsflkfj j j j and affn milk.

I have told Sooty that it is not easy to read but he says it’s written in Cat. The dog recons he’s using Welsh Cat and getting mixed up with Polish Cat. Well I didn’t even know there were any Polish cats about but the dog said he was very sorry and he meant Polecat. I  am even more confused now because I don’t know if the dog means a Polish Polecat or a Welsh Polecat, anyway one thing I do I know is that it is rather a niche market. If that very nice Steven Spielberg makes a film aimed at the Polish or Welsh Polecat audience then it will only be shown at obscure film festivals and on Channel Four at three in the morning with subtitles or children’s TV at 4:00pm on Tuesdays.

The weather was a right mix today sun, rain sun, rain so it has been very hot or torrential rain most of the day so every time I went outside to do things I needed to go back in, I really did not fancy getting wet today. I spoke to the Ghost Writer again today and he is still grumbling about going to work when he is on holiday but on the positive side he is finally correcting the errors in the manuscript that the proof reader found in the first 120 pages or so. It is up too 240 pages now and turning into war and peace although there are no wars and not much peace.

I know that Jim is due back from Hollywood very soon to explore the woods and Mercedes and Mr Pickup are coming to stay with Mr Jenkins next door for a while in what will be the grand finally of the first book where our epic adventure will end with a nice picnic and a cup of tea. Dam I have given away the end now….. Mum has just said the magic word again.............................IDIOT

The subnet mask, Julie Christie and a huge pit full of spikes

The ghost writer was well upset today he has spent the day in the grey office trying to fix the office IT network. He was well grumpy because he is off on holiday and was chilling in the sun (not sure where he found that). He said it was all the fault of the router (some sort of black box with flashing lights on which didn’t flash) and fixed and assigned IP addresses?

 

 stairway to Heaven..............click on picture

 Just in case anyone is wondering who is in the picture on the left is Ian the Musical Hat Maker then Miss Jane (wife of Mr Charlie) then it’s the Ghost Writer then Auntie Karen with Mr Charlie just behind in his flying gear. Then on the right hand side are two of mums spy friends who are now deep undercover in the media world.

The dog is nodding and saying things like did you ping the server or what was the subnet mask setting. Me and Rusty the Robot Dog have decided to eat ice cream instead.  Anyway after our trip up north we are back in the chilled surroundings of Montgomery, well sort of chilled because Sooty the Cat is back from the cattery. Sooty is running about like a demented loony and meowing constantly. We have all told him to shut up and Heavy harry the Cat has accidently thumped him a couple of times while Sooty was running past him but all to no avail, he is still doing it. I think Sooty the Cat is pleased to be back in a real home again but it would be nice if he was not quite so pleased.

I went to say hello to Nelson Beelzebub in Nelson Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop today to let him know we were back home, but he said he knew we were back home and that I will forget to do my School project during the holidays. I don’t remember having to do a school project? While I was there someone called Julie Christie called in to say hello too, she is an actress in films and stuff but likes to hide in Montgomery from the flashing lights of show biz. The ghost writer says if his router had flashing lights he would not have wasted a day in the grey office shouting at computers.

Mr Beelzebub says Miss Julie has only got one or two loyalty points which is pretty good for show biz folk, but he puts it all down to messing about in Wellington boots in her garden in the hills of Mid-Wales. He said It is not easy to get points gardening unless you dig huge pits with spikes at the bottom and cover them in leaves…..AH.  It appears he has let me off so far because I am young and no one has fallen on the spikes yet, well Rusty the Robot Dog did but he is a Robot Dog and was fine once we removed the spike.

Mr Beelzebub says he thinks work will be like buses no one comes along for ages then suddenly he will have a queue full of newspaper men, media moguls and Middle-East dictators.

Anyway the day ended with the man from the corner shop high up on a cherry picker throwing ropes at the flag poles on the town hall clock I think he might have been doing a re-enactment of Back To The Future. It certainly looked like it to me but his partner who looked a bit worried said he was MAD, and mum said IDIOT

Truth serum, Shaving foam and peregrine falcons

I know we have not got to the bottom of mums spy story it is difficult to know exactly what is going on at times and because of the interactions between universes what happens can only be as a direct reaction to the real world. But what I have found out is that some mad scientist in South America has invented a slow acting truth serum which can be applied to the skin. Its main disadvantage is it comes in the form of spray foam and is best applied to the face quickly. So it is difficult to apply without arousing suspicion.  Interestingly enough the dog told me that MI6 own a shaving accessory business up north and he noticed they were selling items in the labyrinth down in the dungeon. He also thinks someone was adding something to suppress thinking in the fried breakfasts at the Holiday Inn, which might explain why me and the dogs found it difficult to think and come up with cunning plans of wit and guile.

 As you can see now we are back in the fresh air of Montgomery we are starting to regain our sense of rational logic and we can hear the Peregrines again (the birds not the band).

The return home and the grumpy Ghost Writer

We headed home about mid-day and when we got home, mum said we have in fact been on trip that had never happened for security reasons. I know that’s not true because we have a pumpkin in the back of the car that is full of bullet holes. Mum is planning to make pumpkin pie for pudding tomorrow although dad said we may need to eat the pie with caution as it may have the odd bullet in it still.

Now some of you will not get to read the missing days because I can not put them on the social network site retrospectively so I will add them to the Blog instead although it may be a case of buying the best selling novel at some point in the future to understand what went on. All I know is we have shot a pumpkin attached to a Sky satellite dish and chatted to an Australian.  And walked through a strange labyrinth of corridors with people selling Christmas cards kiss me quick hats and sparkly stuff.

If by any chance you are reading this in the best selling novel, I am happy to sign it for you anytime you are passing my large mansion in the country with the huge electric fence round it, mum just said IDIOT.

At home Heavy Harry the cat was sleeping and Pirate Pete was making some sort of strange steam driven noisy thing in dad’s workshop. I don’t know what that is either yet but dad has run off to look at it and play. It is a long drive from the north so we are all planning to chill tonight.  The only person not very happy is the ghost writer who should be on holiday this week and has been informed that everything at his grey office has gone pear shaped so he has to go to see them tomorrow to save the day (like the cavalry use to in westerns in the old days). He said he will get Sooty the Cat from the cattery for us. That will please Heavy Harry the Cat who apparently had a party on the first night alone because he thought Sooty had run away.  

The Missing Days......... When not much happened

These are the missing days when I was up North although not much happened. The ghost writer thinks it may be due the the fact he was rather busy and his brain was slightly scrambled. He says sorry, very sorry as it happens....

17^th July 2011

Day one of the spy mission. We left bright and early in the morning to head North, having said farewell to Mr Charlie which is a little suspicious as Mr Charlie never comes to see us first thing in the morning. Then we dropped Sooty the Cat off at the cattery because he is still mad and we thought poor old Pirate Pete might not be able to cope with two cats. Heading North was OK but there was some really heavy rain on the motorways and everyone always drives too fast in all the spray. Dad was not happy because we were in an undercover car, a 2004 Fiat MultiPla which is OK but not the same as the purple metalflake Model T with the supercharged V8 engine. But mum insisted we travelled low key; but the Fiat is quite a good car as it happens, and except for a multiple shunt in Leeds (we were not involved in it but had to pass it) the trip was uneventful.

The Hotel is bit uneventful too, it’s a Holiday Inn and to tell the truth it looks just like all the other Holiday Inns only the bed I’m in is rubbish and I’m only on level six. We have sort of smuggled the dogs in, they don’t allow dogs, but with dark sunglasses and raincoats on shouting it Latin in reception; the hotel are convinced they are mad Italian rock stars.  Anyway not much happened tonight at the hotel except we ate and mum got Rusty the Robot Dog to hang a pumpkin off a Sky satellite dish  about 500 yards away on the roof of an old bed and breakfast. Then she shot a whole load of holes in it. A bit later a repair man turned up to repair the bed and breakfast’s television. But then after the repair man left mum shot a few more holes in the Sky satellite dish.  She is not very happy with one of the owners of Sky and said he has got loads of loyalty points for Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop.

18^th July 2011

Spent most of the day in a strange labyrinth of market traders selling things to people who were all wearing little labels, Not sure what all that was about but even mum and dad had little labels. I was planning to ask but mum said DON’T ASK. Then both mum and dad had along chat with an Australian Bloke deep in the bottom of the labyrinth in a place called the dungeon. That’s the second Australian she has had a long chat with in the last couple of days which is odd because we don’t know any Australians. I was planning to ask mum about the Australians but mum said DON’T ASK  and I was not to mention Australians in my diary ……….  AH. Mum has just said IDIOT.

The dogs are working their way through the room service menu to check all the food is safe to eat. Rusty may be a robot but he is a Robot Dog so eating is normal.

19^th July 2011

It was another day of walking through the labyrinth of corridors and interlinked buildings and going up and down in various lifts although it is not like Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop.  There are no skeletons or Rodin Bronzes or even Martian rock samples and meteorites, Egyptian artefacts or Inca gold idols and gods or any of the stuff he has. And all the little halls in the great labyrinth seem to be full of more market traders although we saw no more Australians. And mum didn’t shoot anymore pumpkins today, although she said she had to deal with some property owned by Australians.  Mum said they were preoccupied with other things today so mum and MI6 were dealing with outstanding issues.

It is all far to complex for me so I was helping the dog and Rusty the Robot Dog sample all the food in the Holiday Inn. We have come to the overall conclusion that the food is not as good as it has been in the past at the Holiday Inn and we have given it five out of ten. Rusty the Robot Dog said it was difficult to score points on the ground he has never been in a Holiday Inn before but he liked the help yourself to breakfast bit in the morning. Although there always seems to be a lot of grannies about too do battle with at breakfast time. Me and the dogs made sure we had a good hearty breakfast, in fact we had two or three. The dog had six this morning but Rusty the Robot Dog and me gave up after three because the gangs of grannies beat us back with sticks and things while they filled doggy bags up for their lunch. Both the dogs thought they should get the doggy bags but as mum pointed out, dogs are not allowed in the hotel and as far as everyone else was concerned they were in fact shabby Italian rock stars that smell a bit manky. 

We will be heading home tomorrow; mum had some funny phone call from an office that apparently does not exist to say they would like her to ring them in the morning. I am not sure how anyone can phone an office that does not exist or get a call from them in the first place.  I tried to ask mum about it but she said DONTIDIOT again. She says I am not likely to be a spy when I grow up and if that very nice Mr Steven Spielberg makes the block buster movie she may have to send him a pumpkin full of bullet holes with a little note from the office that does not exist.  I did say to mum that I assume its will not be on headed paper then, knowing that we have not brought the armadillo toaster with us but she wacked me on the head with the blunt end of the Jackals sniper rifle. NOT FAIR.

the day of the Jackal and a curry

Getting ready for the big trip north tomorrow morning, mums big spy mission. The weather has gone down hill a bit and so it appears the dog and Rusty the Robot Dog can keep there raincoats on. Mum will be travelling as an ordinary woman in the street and dad said he might go as James Bond but mum said IDIOT.

Not sure what the big spy mission is but mum said she will not tell me or I will end up putting it in my diary and that would mess things up.  She has packed her executive briefcase with all the spy things in it and her specially made rifle that some bloke called the Jackal gave her a few years ago after he messed up on his last mission. Mum said he was one of those part time independents who tend to be over confident and are not aware of the weaknesses in their plans. Mum says the main weakness  she has is that some idiot keeps writing stuff in their diary.

Sooty the Cat is off to the cattery in morning and Pirate Pete and the Heavy Harry the Cat are staying at home to guard things and cause a distraction if required; after all the CIA, MI6 and pirates are rumoured to still be about.

I am very late with the diary tonight because mum had to meet friends from Australia plus Mr Charlie and Miss Jane so we have all been for a curry. It was a very good curry, I think it was all to do with the undercover mission. As from tomorrow morning I may not be able to communicate with anyone for a few days as we head into our adventure.  

The unleashed disappointment of holidays

It is always something of a shock the start of the summer holidays. It’s a long time before we go back and some of my friends have moments when their brains go blank and they just can’t think what to do. Henry was passing this morning with his mum, they had been to the shops and as they passed he said I’m bored now; but his mum hit him with the French loaf. Then she hit him again for breaking the French loaf.

The day started warm and sunny which is rather unusual for the long summer school holiday in the UK it normally rains right up to the day we go back to school.  By four in the afternoon though it had started raining. I asked dad if his weather machine might be able to help and stop the rain; but he said there were forces released as a result of the mass of the great British public all trying to go on holiday in a few short weeks. And so even a weather machine as developed and technologically advanced as his could not change the forces of disappointment unleashed over the next few weeks by the masses. I think dad is probably right the Royal Welsh Show is next week when thousands of people go to watch cows walking in the mud. And I know that lots of disappointment is unleashed then. Yet another example of the classic catch 22 situation we encounter on a regular basis. Then there are lots of local shows and carnivals which can be disappointing too so it’s hardly surprising really it rains in the summer. And it’s also the reason according to dad why the early spring is nice and sunny nothing much happens.

The dog and Rusty the Robot Dog are organizing their disguise for mums spy undercover operation even though mum has explained a giant dog and a six legged Robot Dog both wearing old rain coats, designer sun glasses and speaking in Latin is not a good disguise. Mum has told then they must stay at home but they are now spending the evening howling in protest. Rusty the Robot Dog is also standing on one leg while he howls. Something to do with twitter apparently and Mrs Benn and the River Thames which Mrs Benn says does not run through Scotland.  ……..

The last day of school, the teachers and the goat.

Last day at school today. The teachers spent the day running up and down the corridors waving their hands about shouting no school no pupils for eight whole weeks. Mr Clark was the only one who was a bit subdued but he has nine children so he says its worse at home sometimes....... like when they go to the coast in the minivan with all the kids shouting are we there yet all at the same time.

Schools out for summer.....................click image to view

Anyway the pupils tidied the corridors and organized the library made sure all the windows were closed. Got the schools lucky mascot, the goat off the school roof and made sure it was picked up for its summer vocation at Goat World or is it The World Of Goats. Made sure the slithery thing in the cellar had enough food and checked that the school cook, Mr Oliver was not stock piling all those nasty healthy things like vegetables in the freezer. Luckily he seems to have had a bit of a change of heart lately and we found him making triple cheeseburgers with chips and extra bacon for himself and the teachers.

The headmaster has tidied his desk and at the end of the school day we all watched him lower the school flag on the flag pole then everyone ran away cheering.

So as from tomorrow it is the start of the school holidays when some pupils will say to their mums I’m bored now. I have been banned from saying that, or mum said she will throw me in The Pit Of Doom with the crumbling (no that’s not right), the Grumbling Child so I must find lots to do. The dog says he has a list and plans to ensure I do everything on it. But as you know we have discussed lists before and we all know they never work.

The first thing on the agenda is a spy mission that mum has to do so I may be away for a few days next week while we travel undercover. It is very secret and so I have been told not to say a word…… AH. Mum just said IDIOT.  The plan is that they will be like Agatha Christies missing days. Mum is saying IDIOT again and is talking about PLAN B. Not sure what happened to PLAN A, mum said it again now. 

 Herbie Hancock - Jazz Fusion Cantelope Island

social-economic transitions and cultural developments. Seagulls and Pirates

It was non uniform day today. So all the teachers came dressed as pirates, I knew they would they say they are hoping to take The Black Swan out to the Black Sea during the holidays and hunt for monsters and have interesting adventures of swashbuckling. Anyway they spent the day swashbuckling in gymnasium where there are lots of ropes to climb and cannons to fire at sea gulls and ravens.

The headmaster decided he was going to dress as the Lone Ranger, I did ask him several times but he kept saying I have lost Silver kemosabe we must follow the trail. So what with the pirates firing cannon at ravens in the gym and hunting gold and The Lone Ranger hunting silver it was very difficult for the pupils to do their school work.

We were working on a thesis involving the relationship between the western industrial countries and the emerging countries of the third world and social-economic transitions and how the cultural developments of countries such as China and India reflect in the every day culture of Britain and projecting this into the future.  Well we were doing that until a pirate riding a white horse rode through the class room followed by the headmaster running as fast as he could demanding his horse back. And a flock of frightened seagulls evading cannon fire from the gym.

After that we thought the best thing to do was lay siege to the gym and do battle with the pirates in order that we could save the ravens and seagulls. It might have been a much easier task if the ravens and seagulls had not spent so much time fighting each other. And they stole Frank’s fish and chips so he deserted to the pirates. As john said you try and help seagulls and what do they do nick your dinner.

In the end the school bus turned up so we all went home but at least it gave us the solution to our thesis on the social economic power struggles between the emerging and established industrial cultures. They will all end up fighting over ravens and seagulls (sorry oil and water); until someone with a big bus says its home time.  I showed our thesis of world economics and stuff to dad when I got home which he read with interest but he asked me what happened to the horse. Mum said IDIOT I think she means dad not the horse; it was quite a clever horse it could count to five. The dog has just said IDIOT now I think he means the horse.

The school quiz and the chocolate chip cookies...........

School is getting more difficult by the day, the teachers were playing hop scotch and pin the tail on the donkey. I am sure as I remember it is not meant to involve a real donkey or real tails, and I’m not sure what the blue spotted one was off.  By lunch time the teachers were exhausted, so the dog organized a team quiz competition to keep them amused (pupils against teachers).

Question one to five were all on sub-particle atomic structure so the pupils got those all right but the teachers got them all wrong. The teachers said the physics teacher was an IDIOT. Questions six to twenty were all about pirates which everyone got right except one question which was WHAT IS THE PRESENT LOCATION OF CAPTAIN PAUL NESSMAN; the dog said he is not allowed to tell us. Then questions twenty one to fifty were on general knowledge which the teachers got all right but we got some wrong. Then there were some questions on Health and Safety in the school, which no one got right and we finished with five questions about burying bones in a school playground. Where each team got one question right. But everyone said it was a rather specialized dog section and there were no dogs in the teams.

In the end it came down to a tiebreak between the teachers and the pupils so the dog decided each team should pick one member and it was the member who could eat the most ice-cream and chocolate chip cookies in three minutes. Well Mr Clark the Nutritionist and Humanities teacher won dead easy with nine tubs of ice cream and two hundred and seventy one extra large cookies. He was deducted one cookie for having crumbs on the floor.

The dog said there was a token prize of half a tub of ice cream and three chocolate chip cookies although he did say he was planning on it being a bit more substantial but what with Mr Clark eating more than he expected and feeling slightly hungry during the quiz himself. The prize had diminished slightly in size. The teachers didn’t seem to care they were all singing We Are The Champions by Queen (the band not the Queen), and shouting EASY … EASY

A Rough Guide to the Mathematics and Physics of Antimatter

It is the last week of school before the summer holidays so the teachers have sort of chilled and have told us to play hide and seek and hunt the thimble. I am definitely not playing hunt the thimble because it is the same one as last year and still hidden in the same place. Rumour has it the headmaster hid it while they were laying the foundations for the new wing.

Heavy Harry the Cat

Click on Picture for.....................................Gordon is a Moron

When I say new wing it’s not like an aeroplane wing or even a seagull wing but a bit of the building that takes a sharp left and has classrooms and a corridor and stuff.  So according to the head girl the thimble is under twenty tons of reinforced concrete, she even used a metal detector last year to try and find it but the steel reinforcement rods ruined that plan. No one really fancied hide and seek either so in the end I got the dog to come to school, he was teaching all the pupils Mathematics in the hall. While the teachers were playing poker in the office or as they call it The Escape Pod.

The dog was telling us that at a scale of 10^-33 centimetres, the structure of space-time will cease to be the implacable, smooth 'surface' and so he was making us look at the internal structure of the Quark. He said the science teachers think they don’t have a structure and are at a scale that they are an entity in their own right but he said they are IDIOTS. That seems a little unfair but the dog then started showing us the mathematics of antimatter but we were starting to get a bit lost so the dog gave us all a copy of The Rough Guide to the Mathematics and Physics of Antimatter.

Still all this pure mathematics is better than messing about in the playground all day in the sun we have almost eight weeks of that ahead of us in the holidays so best to learn stuff while we can. The teachers ended the day playing leap frog in the gym. While the pupils constructed a three dimensional model of the internal structure of the Quark in clay, plastic milk bottle tops and cocktail sticks (wooden ones).

The dog has given us all homework for tomorrow, not sure that was meant to happen and I don’t think I know anything about the three W and Z bosons of the weak force, and the eight gluons of the strong force.  I can't believe we are made of stuff like that but mum said YES WE ARE.

The day after Woodstock and TV children

It is the day after the night before, again as it has been before. Lets face it people forget and do these things again although me mum and dad don’t. In my case it’s to do with the fact I still need to do the things that make the day after the night before … the day after; if you get my drift. Probably not I have just read that and it makes no sense.

Me and dad returned to the venue for the party early in the afternoon expecting to find people milling about picking up rubbish and chewing the dried remains of pizza and stuff, (like it was after Woodstock …… dad says).  But no there was no one except two small children watching TV and someone fast to sleep. We are sure the goat eating tarantula spider could not have eaten them all because we would have noticed I think, well probably, well mum would have and maybe the police.

So we collected our things and quietly left the two small children watching TV. Not sure what it was, I think it was one of the children’s satellite TV channels where every thing looks the same and there are lots of precocious smiling all American nicey nice children singing songs and being dramatic in school. As I have loyal American readers I would just like to say I am sure most American children are quite normal like the rest of the world. But children in the rest of the world as getting like TV children and everyone what’s to a celebrity. While on that subject I would just like to point out to the very nice Mr Steven Spielberg that my left side is my photogenic when he starts filming……… Mum just said IDIOT again, I’m going to go and sulk now. Not really but I’m tied so I’m pretending so don’t tell mum. ……… …………. ………….. AH.

The big party and the rare goat eating tarantula spider

I have been invited to a big party today so my diary entry will be dependent on events and timing and how much rain falls today. Right now it is very sunny so with luck. Dad has loaded up the car with things and will be heading off into the dark blue yonder to set up soon. Pirate Pete wants to take his harpoon gun to catch wild Haggis in the hills. . . . . . . . .We will see what the day brings?

Flooding one day, hot sun the next. Dad says its delayed response to his Weather Machine; he says its turbo lag....

................................................................a bit later.

Stage one is now complete tents, barbeques, bunting, supplies, food and drinks and various other stuff. We have popped home for a chill as it was hard work setting all that up it is still very hot and sunny. Dad said he could set up his Weather Machine again to cool it down a bit but mum said NO. It is a fortieth  birthday surprise party always a risk because there is always a chance the person whose birthday it is might decide to do something on their birthday and not arrive. Dad said this is OK because if that happens we don’t tell them we have had a surprise party and we all get to eat more and keep all the presents, mum said IDIOT.

Pirate Pete said he would quite like to keep the rare goat eating tarantula spider he bought on eBay. Mum thinks it will certainly be the present that has the most impact but has advised Pirate Pete to keep it in its crate until the end of the evening, as it might eat the small children.

Anyway we will be heading back in a short while once we load up the trailer with the tarantula spider; the big padlocks and chain are just a precautionary measure.

........................................................... A bit later Still

Well we have returned a little earlier than planned but dad recons they were all the wrong age group and from south of Watford gap. In fact I think dad was being grumpy because he was the oldest their, someone said he could pretend to be younger but he likes being old and grumpy. I must admit the music was not really us either we like more guitar based bands like Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, AC/DC even punk or Weather Report but definitely not modern fake bubblegum  rap and pop.

Still the food was really good and everyone was happy right up to the point that Miss Jo opened the crate with Pirate Pete’s present in. It might have been better if Pirate Pete had fed the goat eating tarantula spider before we went then it might not have lunged at a little girl or eaten a substantial percentage of the barbecued ribs. That led to a lot of screaming and then a complaint from a neighbour and the arrival of the police, and it was rather a small police dog and did look a bit like a goat. After all our dog and Rusty the Robot dog are OK but the dog is huge and Rusty apparently has lasers fitted.

So we left and have arrived home just in time for midnight. Pirate Pete is happy because he had to bring the goat eating tarantula spider back although it is quite happy now having eaten the police dog and possibly a child but in the chaos who could tell. Mum says it may need to go to a zoo as it is possibly a bit dangerous and the police are a little unset.

lanzarote and the rain machine

What a wet day we kept having flash floods on the roads so getting home on the bus took ages but at home dad had his weather machine out again. Me and mum have learnt to hide when he gets it out, although Pirate Pete says it is great as interesting things happen when it is switched on.  Dad said it would stop the rain but the dog fell about in hysterics and was rolling about on his back in the mud.

So we all watched dad and Pirate Pete start it up in the rain but nothing much happened except the rain got a bit heavier and the clouds a bit darker Pirate Pete was just starting to say it was turning into a bit of an anticlimax when there was a huge flash and a bang of thunder and Mr Jenkins screamed. It was quite understandable because the lightning struck his umbrella which vanished in a cloud of vapour, Mr Jenkins was not happy as he said it was his souvenir of lazaretto? No that’s not right I mean lanzarote. Pirate Pete said he has been in a lazaretto when he was on an old pirate ship and got covered in huge weeping blue spots.

After several large flashes and loads of thunder which created several fireballs in the street which in turn stampeded the sheep in the field near the house? Resulting in them running down the main street and into a local butchers shop. Dad turned the weather machine off, and things are now back to normal. Well sort of we still very heavy rain and flash flooding. The main difference now is that the flock of sheep are protesting in the high street outside the butchers shop and have complained that they have been commercialized under the false pretext of supplying wool for jumpers. And that when their mates suddenly vanished they had gone to retire in lanzarote and eat ice cream.

Mr Jenkins said he has never seen sheep in lanzarote just a lot of rather nice souvenir umbrellas but mum said IDIOT

The school trip to Brecon and the last Pick & Mix in Woolworth's

We went on a school trip to Brecon today on the school bus. It was a bit odd because it was just the pupils, plus Mrs Jones who likes to catch the bus into town in the morning (sometimes) to do a bit off shopping. Brecon is about an hour and three-quarters away or something like that it is difficult to tell because there are very few places to overtake so it you are behind a truck pulling a lion in a cage then it takes ages.

Once we arrived in Brecon I thought I would look for some jazz because the only thing I know about Brecon is it has the Brecon Jazz Festival. Mrs Jones was well pleased she said she has never been shopping in Brecon before so she was going off to potter about and look for bargains. She is almost one hundred and sixty two now and knows a bargain when she sees it. According to dad she is the best shop lifter in Wales and Nelson Beelzebub said she has loads of loyalty points but she is such a nice old lady he hasn’t got the heart to foreclose on her contract.

Everyone wandered about and it was all very peaceful until loads of police turned up apparently chasing a shoplifting master criminal who they had cornered in Woolworths. No one has told them in Brecon yet that the Woolworths chain has gone bust; I guess Brecon is rather out of the way.  We watched the stand off for a couple of hours but then the bus driver said it was time to go back to Montgomery and we were waiting for Mrs Jones. Me and the bus driver let the Lion out of the back of the cage as by then the truck had finally arrived in town and in the ensuing mayhem Mrs Jones made her escape and we were able to start our trip home.

Mrs Jones was very thankful for our assistance and gave me a bag of Pick & Mix from Woolworths to eat but they were a bit musty I think they were past their sell by date. I asked the bus driver why we went to Brecon but he said he was a bit bored and fancied a change, and as long as we all told everyone including our parents we were abducted by aliens (again) it would be fine. I told mum and dad but they said the bus driver went to Brecon again didn’t he, they recognized the bag of Pick & Mix

Glastonbury, Brinsley Schwarz and a huge hole in the garden

Some rain today and some sun again. But summer is not really as it should be now; we appear to have had all the good hot summery weather during the winter. The problem with the weather when it is like this is that the days sort of pass and no one notices that much because the days all look the same. So after school me and the dogs decided to make a snowman to change the season a bit.

Well as you might expect there is not much snow about in Wales at present so we made the snowman with wet sand and sprayed it with white spray paint. It looked just like a snowman made with snow as apposed a snowman made with sand which would be a sandman. The sandman can be good or bad depending on which story you read. Me and the dog thought we liked the nasty one, so we gave our snowman a sinister smile, Which frightened the cats so Sooty shot up the big tree and Heavy Harry decided to eat food.  Apparently the nasty Sandman collected the eyes of children, and then took the eyes to his iron nest on the moon and fed then to hungry aardvarks or something like that.

As you can tell me and the Ghost Writer are having a crisis of writers block not the first time this has happened to us but in conjunction with the weather and a cat trying to lick my hand as I type means we may have to dig a huge hole in the garden and explore for things.

Ian the Musical Hat Maker is on his knee check up today to check he has a knee and if he has got a knee then they will give his other leg a knee too. Then he will have two knees. He should have been at Glastonbury this year because he played there in 1971 as part of Brinsley Schwarz but what with the knee and people doing things that left the band out in the cold a bit. Not for the first time in the history of the band as Mr Ian says bands in the old days were ripped off all the time and it took years to sort out the paperwork.

Look you have distracted me again, me and the ghost writer are digging a huge hole in the garden. Mum has just shouted at us remember the old saying “DON’T dig yourself into a hole you cant get out of” ….. ah. I can hear mum saying IDIOTS up above us now.

Mr Ian the Musical Hat Maker ........ Click on picture for another song

Auntie Karen says Ian the Musical Hat Maker is fine he has a paper bag on his head and is shouting directions in the car.

Captain Nessman

I think somewhere out there in the big wide world is Captain Nessman sailing into adventure in his Quest for knowledge and the spirit of Enlightenment.  But we can feel his presence back in the hills of Wales because his thoughts still whisper in the wind. HAR HAR HAR HAR.

2022

RIP Captain Paul Nessman . . . . . . . . . . Those who knew you will remember you