The sky, the fly, the goat and a slithering slimy monster

It is getting close to the school holidays, well OK not that close but close enough to see everyone starting to relax a bit, well those who have finished exams or don’t have any this year or cheat. Or cheat and have the advantage of a Jules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine to hand and an Einstein cube. These devices have been gathering dust during most of book two but that is what happens in life, things move and change. A bit like the slithering slimy monster that lived in the cellar under the school, it has managed to transform itself into a school inspector. Creating a whole new life for itself, although the headmaster says it is still a  slithering slimy monster although it has given the school an A+ with merits for having a particularly good cellar for the creation of new life forms during the recent inspection.

the sky this evening

Even the school mascot the goat has been chilling today in the swimming pool although it did have a small crisis with the inflatable lilo, they don’t mix well with goat horns, nether do learners in the deep end with arm bands. The life guard said it was the busiest day he has ever had and the headmaster has sadly banned the goat from the pool during school hours.

It has been a lovely sunny day today which is typical, the day after the family BBQ and another classic example of the great British weather. Still the same thing happened to the Queen on her jubilee so if it is good enough for the queen then we can’t complain……. Well not really true, we can complain. Dad apparently finally got his weather machine going this morning after mum torched it when his experiments kept ending in rain floods and snow and the like. He thinks he has sorted the problem now and has removed the duck from the symbiotic meteorological climate inverting actuator.

Anyway everyone is chilling now and relaxing as it has been busy with one thing and another in recent weeks. I am working on experimental fly traps at present; the little critters keep coming into the house. One of the joys of life in the country, although I suspect they may be just as awkward back in town. I don’t entirely understand why flies like to come into houses because no one is nice to them. They don’t rush off and live in caves as part of their natural behaviour (I think?).  Genetically I would have though they were designed to hang about near the back end of the school goat and the like, not pooing on windows or re-enacting the battle of Britain in the middle of the kitchen while we pick off the stragglers with a rolled up newspaper. Just as a matter of interest which way up does a fly, fly in space in a weightless environment, I bet they still have agro with flies in the skylab kitchen.