Thursday, 28 February 2013

"Here's Johnny!" . . . . An Axe, a Chainsaw and the GPS

I have spent a good part of the day using a chainsaw and a large axe although the woodwork teacher said that fine delicate Marquetry is best done with smaller and slightly more delicate woodwork tools. He is of course right but on the other hand using a chainsaw and a large axe is a great deal more fun and exciting. 

We were working in pairs and normally I would be teamed up with Freddie or Esmeralda but today we had a bit of a move about, why do teachers do stuff like that everyone was happy, but no no we all have to work with new people to improve our team spirit  and stuff. So I was working with Targuin Charles the third, who is well impressed that I am head boy of a posh academy.  I did explain that I became head boy due to a typing error in the pupil database and that the school had to become an academy because the comprehensive schools system does not allow school mascots (the school goat) to eat pupils. As an academy with private funding from the Petro-chemical industry and the Goat Preservation Society (GPS), the occasional loss of a first year or what ever year a first year is these days is sort of glossed over as the price of creating a generation of eccentrics.  And well it is the way of the world we all need to learn that goats are not vegetarians and will eat anything that moves, or does not move for that matter.

Anyway, Targuin Charles the third’s dad had lent Targuin Charles the third a nice French Walnut Louis XV Marquetry Bureau from 1793 to do a bit of repair work on, so the pair of us set too with the chainsaw. Targuin Charles the third had never used a chainsaw before so he thought it was great fun although he was a little heavy handed which meant that the nice French Walnut Louis XV Marquetry Bureau from 1793 was a little gnarled looking by the end of the day but I have to admit Tarquin is a natural with an axe. His little face smiling through the woodwork room window in a slightly mad glazed way as the chauffer turned up, his rather posh little voice shouting "Here's Johnny!" (that’s the chauffer I think) as he ran out to see him clutching his axe (my axe as it happens I must get it back tomorrow). The woodwork teacher says he might get some MDF and a bit of white gloss paint to sort the French Walnut Louis XV Marquetry Bureau for Tarquin as he looked a bit stressed.

Oooo yes in another wood related incident as I was walking up the drive this morning a man in a huge logging truck hooted and waved, I was not expecting that because I don’t think Mexican Dave drives logging trucks. So it is possible that the Mexican Wave started yesterday is still working its way along the road  . . . . . . .WELL COOL.

AH yes, also My friend from the world of Blogging Me ESB had a thought and suggested a change of tack as I forgot what was going on for a couple of days, and suggested I try writing about what was going off. Ironically when I looked at the news earlier I found that the Pope was going off to stop at Castel Gandolfo or as we would call it The Castle of Gandalf, I sorry but a man going off to live in the Castle of Gandalf wearing long white ropes to read old leather bound medieval books with locks on makes me wonder if he planning to do what I do from time to time and do a re-enactment of a certain film trilogy. They are long films too which would explain the need to retire.   


Wednesday, 27 February 2013

Mexican Waves and Mexican Dave

Today has been rather quiet I looked at a few things and prodded a few things talked to a few people pointed at something that needed to be pointed at and in general looked at things in a knowing way as if I knew what was going on, which I didn't. I did notice a man in a large truck flash his lights at me as I made my way to the school and can only assume it was Mexican Dave, I always try to wave back to Mexican Dave but he is always in different trucks so by the time I think AH YES it's Mexican Dave he has flashed all the truck lights at me, waved and shot past me in the opposite direction, so I end up waving to strange people who don’t know who I am but think they might know me so wave back. But because I have almost passed them at this point they end up waving to someone behind me who tries to wave back to them and so on and so on. You can see now why Mexican Dave is called Mexican Dave because hours after he has finished work people are still waving at one an other somewhere out on the road. Still it is better than everyone waving fists at each other which is what happens in large towns particularly when dad takes short cuts up one way streets sort of the wrong way. Although he would argue that because he is in reverse it does not count and it takes skill to reverse at fifty miles an hour. ......

 So I have arrived at the same point as yesterday when I ran out of things to say, well at least until it gets sunny and warm. The sun came out at one point for a whole hour or there abouts, which was lovely and it must be at least a week since I saw it properly but we are at least reaching the point in the year where it will change and summer will arrive and we will lie in deckchairs and on sun loungers and get soaking wet in the rain HAH HAH HAHH HAH hah ahah ahh hah hah ahaha hahahah hah ahaha hahh . . . . . . . . . . .AH mum has just said IDIOT. 



Tuesday, 26 February 2013

Long Lost Relatives and Helicopters

Earlier today My long lost relative Miss Anne and her husband Mr Chris came to visit us and we all ate food and chatted about things like life the universe and cats and dogs and how to escape from a helicopter. It might sound odd to some that we discussed escaping from a helicopter but on a show of hands it was revealed that 75% of those present knew how to do this; well they knew how to do this as long as the helicopter landed in the sea. Although Miss Anne said that she might need the assistance of a diver with some decent underwater cutting equipment and we did all agree that this would certainly make the whole process considerably easier. Ooooo yes and all agreed that the helicopter had to be a Sikorsky 61 because everyone knew where the windows and doors are on one of those when it is upside-down.

Miss Anne and Mr Chris also left their dog at home because it likes cats, sorry I mean it likes to eat cats, it has something to do with the breed of dog it is a sort of husky type dog and out in the wilds where the snow can be deep and drift there is little food except the occasional passing cat and arctic explorer with a huge mechanical JCB thing.

 Miss Anne and Mr Chris then had to get back home to make sure the dog was happy and had not eaten all the neighbourhood cats, they have not lived in their present home long enough to be forgiven by the village for the loss of all the local cats. But in their haste to escape from my diary it appears that Mr Chris left his Porsche behind, I know not easily done but its true, dad has offered to drive it back to him very very fast it he needs it. But apparently Mr Chris has a spare one at home so PHEW that’s lucky. . . .           

Oooo must go and eat again I will return……

Ooooooooo (again) its ages later now, it just goes to show that if you stop and sit down it is very hard to get up again and do stuff and it is therefore best to do the stuff before you sit down. And I have also forgotten exactly what I was planning to write at the time, although when I say plan I don’t mean plan because I tend just to wave my hands in the general direction of the keyboard and hope for the best. I have it on good authority that all the best writers wear a blindfold and woolly gloves when they type and so I type like I have a blindfold and woolly gloves on.  

AH I think that’s it.


Monday, 25 February 2013

Drums and the science of customer psychology

I have arrived at my diary but as yet have not decided what to write about because I spent much time drumming earlier and although African drumming is very good for you the one thing you can’t do it contemplate the text of an eccentric diary while drumming. We created some new drum beats tonight though but I did not record any of them, which means that they will now be lost for ever, as we never remember what we played last time when we meet up.  I have also had to deal with the stress and strains of a mad Ghost Writer who has hidden under my bed saying that there is Microsoft technology chasing him and he needs to hide from it after a day long battle of wits to install certain software on certain Pc’s for certain people in a certain place leading to an uncertain conclusion. And apparently he has to go and learn how to use a fangled new database that sounds like a dog’s name next week so he can show other folk how to use it. As he says no one in their right mind would get him to show other people how to use anything on a computer because he is left handed and hits computers with frozen food. In particular CHIPS  . . . .. . . . . . . .HAH HAHHAH HAH HAH HAH HAH AH hah ha hah hha hah ah ha hahh ah ah hah ah ah ahahh ahah ahah.

I was doing IT as well today at school it appears that it is very important and everyone should know how to deal with modern technology or we are all doomed, as technology is the future of the world. I did say to the IT teacher that technology is fundamentally flawed and that it has one weakness that means it will never take over as has been predicted in many a film or book, but he said it was a very likely possibility that it might. However it was easy to prove him wrong by nipping down to the caretakers office and prodding the main fuse box with a garden spade which meant that I was able to perform some simple quantum physics on the back of a postcard and the IT teachers main server remained as silent as the school goat who was feeling a little ill after accidentally eating several green polyester jumpers in the out of town supermarket after they moved stuff about to confuse the punters, the goat getting spring cabbage and polyester confused, easily done.

Why do supermarkets do stuff (move things about) like that all it does is start fights among the shoppers as the meander aimlessly and get grumpy because they cant find the bacon or cheese or ice cream or polyester jumpers. The one thing I have noticed that does not ever move about is pet food, but apparently there are reasons for this relating to the science of customer psychology in retail environments according to the science teacher, there are some things you just don’t do…….. 

Sunday, 24 February 2013

The Surprise in Milton Keynes and Roundabouts

Well as you know yesterday I was away in Molten Beans which in fact turned out to be Milton Keynes, but I knew it sounded like food of some sort. And as I said we were off to see a man about certain things, which was a secret sixtieth birthday party for a very old family friend that dad used to go to school with and then they both worked at the same place for a while and then both moved about in different directions but still managed to remain in contact over the years. We then stayed in a hotel based on the rabbit warren principle which was OK as long as you tied a piece of string to your room door handle, this way you could always get back to it. Until a foolish little old lady cut it in half with a pair of scissors, why do little old ladies carry scissors anyway, its not normal. OK yes I am being distracted and that is not good.

Breakfast was an all you can eat affair with things hidden in large pots quietly bubbling away and piles of toast, cereal and crumpets as well as fruit juice and tea and coffee and so on. Bearing in mind it is an all you can eat job there was not too much fighting going on by the masses, but I think part of that is the hotel getting the fine line between food you then run off and complain about, and food that is really great so you eat loads of it all day. In other words it was OK but after three of four full English breakfasts you just think I am not enjoying this so I will go. But all in all it was OK for a rabbit warren.

The party was good too and Mr F (who was sixty) and Miss A (his wife) got a shock because he was not expecting to see us and when he saw me he shouted O MY GOD YOU'RE NOT HERE TOO AAAAaaaaAAaaaaaaauugggghHHHH but mum said it was OK as she had chained me to a table. Apparently it’s an old tradition in Milton Keynes that the youngest is chained to a table at parties, I asked a few people because it sounded a bit odd to me but they all said it was.

I am not sure how many of you have been to Milton Keynes it is an odd place to drive round as I remembered when dad starting swearing a lot, because it is full of roundabouts, hundreds of them and all the main roads are lined with bushes and trees so look identical. The result of this is that if you do not know where you are or where you are going you do go round and round in circles and round and round roundabouts all day.

Then today we have arrived home at the time we were expected to arrive home and so all is well although I have had a message from the Ghost Writer who says he has to go to work tomorrow and it is NOT FAIR . . . .

.Ooooooo Yes the fish pond is still frozen, it was like that when we left.

Friday, 22 February 2013

−273.15°C (Absolute Zero) an Orange and a Long Journey

We have arrived at the end of the week, the end of the half term holidays and I am sure it is getting cooler as time passes not warmer, I think the fact that some Ski school in the foot hills of Birmingham is sending dad large sums of money may be a factor in all this cold weather; that and some deal he has going on with the local coal man makes me think it is all very suspicious indeed. 

One thing I don’t think I have mentioned yet in my diary which has been happening for a while now the occasional orange turning up on the grass verge at the side of the road I noticed one today outside the Castle of the Bishop, there it was just sort of sat there minding its own business.  It is strange because this is a regular occurrence and sometimes I can see two are three by the side of the road but never together or in the same place, and this has gone on for a least a year now.  While we were out at the Castle of the Bishop getting things we also saw Mexican Dave and his large truck which was sort of blocking the road but only so he could unload a large consignment of fresh oranges which he was in the process of doing using a fork lift truck when we arrived at Tough Harries Inn to get our provisions. It is not often I get waved at by someone in a fork lift.

 There is much to be done outside but as we appear to be in the middle of a mini ice age much of it is not getting done. There is a point (temperature) at which things get slower, I am working on a theory that time might even be temperature dependent and at some point, maybe at a temperature of −273.15°C or lower time will in fact stop. There is much talk that absolute zero is the point at which things cant get colder but by adding a wind chill effect it is possible to create a temperature that feels colder than −273.15°C (Absolute Zero) They are always saying on the BBC weather that it will be round about freezing tomorrow but with wind chill it will feel more like -3 so by using a super cooled conductors and a wind machine dad and I have worked out that we can stop time in his garage.

Stopping time in dads garage may seem silly but as dad says people often look in the garage windows and it appears he is not doing anything but he can now tell them why it is; time in the garage is moving much slower, and that in reality dad is working very fast but from the outside it will look like he is having a sleep and supping tea, it also explains his silly woolly hats.

Right I need to warn you I have to go on a long journey tomorrow to a place called something like Molten Beans to see a man about certain things that involve things I don’t know about because I have not been told, I have been offered fish and chips and that is good enough for me and I am hoping a place (Plaice HAH HAHh hah haha hahahahha haha hah ahhaha ha ) called Molten Beans is warmer that Absolute Zero.  But this means I will not be here tomorrow night, other people will, people who do not write a diary so as my technology is large and lumpy there will be no diary entry tomorrow. It you are reading this tomorrow, then I mean today, and if you are reading this after tomorrow I should be back and normality returned has returned to normal . . . . . . If it has not then . . . . . . . . . AH  


Thursday, 21 February 2013

The Blindfold, the Sawdust and the Mug of Tea

Today involved leaping into action, not easy when it is freezing cold outside, but I managed it sort of. I was then transported to another location having been blindfolded by dad who said it was a request by members of the family who were worried I might go and visit them on my own if I knew where the lived.  Normally I might complain about this but as they are close relatives I guess it is OK? Once there I was pointed at a large hole, no not in the ground but in a row of kitchen units and was told I was the ideal person to build two shelves to support loads of stuff and that I did not need to worry to much about the quality of it as long as it was perfect, and blended in like part of the original kitchen. I was then told I could take as long as I like as long as it was finished before it got dark and that I would not be allowed any food or drink until it was done, and I had been blindfolded again and returned home.  But as I have said they are close relatives so its OK.

As it happened it was rather a big task so I was very busy and made huge clouds of sawdust as I cut all the bits of wood up to fit into the space, dad who was watching me work as he chatted to the family said when I have mastered woodwork like he did many moons ago I will be able to do all this without creating huge mounds of sawdust but he said on this occasion he would let me off as he had forgotten to remove the blindfold.  I must admit it was much easier without the blindfold but I thought it might be like one of those military things where they have to take their guns apart in the dark and then reassemble it only to discover they have accidently shot everyone, I’m sure making shelves blindfolded in harder..

I did ask dad if he had remembered the spirit level but he said I could have a glass of wine when I was older but I would have to make do with a mug of tea for now, a mug of tea is not the most accurate spirit level in the world but sort of works OK, but you then end up with a mug of tea full of sawdust, lumpy tea is not all that nice. . . . .YUCK

Finally about five o’clock I finished the job; was then blindfolded and brought home by dad so I could eat food, I was hoping to see Miss E while I was there but she remained hidden under a duvet and refused to come out saying it was noisy and the world was full of sawdust, apparently she has created a new world under her duvet and has proclaimed herself queen and has not been seen as such for three days.  So that’s it another busy day of useful work, this half term is terrible so far I appear to have done nothing but be useful and productive, and my diary is turning into an IDIOTS guide to DIY . . . . . . . I don’t think Steven Spielberg is going to make a DIY movie about shelves and muddy holes yet……  


Wednesday, 20 February 2013

A pheasant called Long John Silver and 30 million pounds worth of diamonds

I have just been watching Long John Silver limp across the grass at the front of the house going HAR HAR HAR pieces of grape HAR HAR. Yes you are thinking grape WHAT? Long John Silver was not really the sort of character to eat grapes he was more a red meat and mushy pea’s man, and you are right, however in this case Long John Silver is a Pheasant who has gained the name as a result of his limp, the patch over his eye and his handy skills with a cutlass. Skills well needed when you are dealing with two cats who have taken on the roll of the British fleet hell bent on eating Long John Silver, I cant remember if they managed to eat Long John Silver in the book or not but I noticed on the news that the British have managed to eat Silver the horse used by The Lone Ranger.

One of the fundamental problems horses have is unlike the pheasant they do not have the same skills in swordsmanship, in fact the very act of holding a sword is tricky for a horse. In my own case I prefer pheasants in the garden to horses and a horse would almost certainly break the bird table, as it is it is not really designed for Pheasants and a limping Pheasant is right at the limits of its design parameters.

After time travelling through most of yesterday after prodding a prototype unpredictability machine I am rather annoyed as it appears yesterday was a lovely day full of warmth and sun and today where I have taken the more conventional method of getting through the day it is grey and very cold, all I can say is typical. Luckily this did save me from the fate of the muddy hole but not from the final bits of the tongue and groove panelling, it is the really annoying tiny fiddly bits and odd bits of filler and rubbing down, Sometimes there are times when being good at something is not good. Talking of which dads old friend Benny Neckbender called by and said hello and has left a package with dad for safe keeping, apparently it has 30 million pounds worth of diamonds in it that Benny says was lying about on the runway of some airport and that no one seemed to want them. Dad has said that it is probably best not to mention the 30 million pounds worth of diamonds as mum will not be happy and it is just possible others may be wondering where they are . . . . . . . . . . . .AH DAMN 

Oooo yes my little YouTube clip tonight is from the secret life of Miss Fionaski the Famous Russian Spy who I said I will help to go global so if you wish to share it would be much appreciated; it is all in a good cause. . . . . . AH well it’s a good jolly anyway and Miss Fionaski does like to leap about a lot…..


Tuesday, 19 February 2013

The unpredictable as predicted by time travel and a stick

Today has been a terrible day for the writer of a diary (me), there I was helping dad with some adjustments on his latest steam powered machine. He is working on an unpredictable machine; the idea is that in a world full of what appears to be predictable events, his machine would improve the possibility of the unpredictable. We have to be cautious about what we say according to mum because dads invention sounds a bit like that idea invented by the chap who wrote The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy. However there are two fundamental differences between dads steam powered machine and the one in the book, firstly dad’s machine is in his garage and secondly is no longer works (well it is sort of lost) after the accident this morning where dad and I were looking at it and I prodded it a bit with a stick. This would not normally cause any problems except that in what appeared to be an unpredictable outcome to being popped by a stick I was catapulted through time to tonight.

O yes that sounds exciting but one minute I was standing prodding a machine in the morning then the next thing I am at the end of the day and its time for bed, this is a disaster because I can not write about a day in my diary I have totally missed. And to make matters even more worse than that, yes that may not sound good use of English but when they get worse than worse it is terrible so what is worse than terrible is leaping in time past all my meals arriving at a glass of milk to take to bed. . . . . . .DAMN.

Dad is gutted because as I leap forward in time his machine in what dad says is something that must happen in order for the universe to maintain balance leap backwards into the past. Dad did say that he remembered it turning up a couple of weeks ago and did wonder where it came from because he did not remember making it. At the time he thought it must be one of his steam powered machines because it had a stick poked in the side with my name on it. I think that must mean I have just lost my favourite stick to prod things with DAMN (again).

So its time to go to bed . . . . . . .DAMN  

Monday, 18 February 2013

Pink Skies and Seagulls

Today has been sunny I mean really sunny probably the sunniest day of the year I can say this because dad is smiling as the solar panels have had their best day in months. He says it is all to do with the Steam Powered Weather Machine, and it appears we have finally found out what we need to do to make it work correctly, yes it appears that if you give dad a large plain brown envelope full of used money the weather machine will generate what ever weather you like. In fact I think it is safe to say the more money in the envelope the better the chance of it working correctly.  Dad says it known in the trade as The Inverse Law of Unscrupulous Dealings and Skulduggery TILOUDAS to those in the know.

Unfortunately for me I had a day with the Ghost Writer in his office so I could look at the seagulls.  His office has a south facing glass wall and as near as damn it no windows so it was hot very very hot and on top of that the seagulls did not turn up, OK there was the one fake seagull……  I don’t know why there were no seagulls outside the office of the Ghost Writer today (although I might have an idea) as normally there are loads of them which is odd when you think his office is about seventy miles from the sea, but they have lived there for years and years.

On the way home we did see a very pink sky apparently if you see a red sky it means that Sheppard’s are having a party or something like that although you seldom see Sheppard’s any more but you do see lots of sheep.

I think me and the ghost Writer are a bit  zombie like tonight he apparently has loads of things to do, more things to do than he has time to do them in because of the nature of technology. You see technology might be faster but it is more complex and these two things cancel themselves out, so it takes just as long to do things as it did ten years ago. Only people wish to do things faster or at least insist that the Ghost Writer should be able to set up all the technology faster which he can’t. So when he is told its OK you have 4 weeks to do a technology restructure, he stands on the roof of his office and pretends to be a seagull, I think that might be why I did not see any today he is a rubbish seagull although he did eat fish for his evening meal . . . .

I am not sure any of this makes sense tonight but I am a half zombie and it is late. . 

Sunday, 17 February 2013

Beef, Pork, French Fries and Fizzy Drinks

Today in our little community it was the valentine’s lunch and we all go, it is less about Valentines Day and more about lunch and there is always loads and loads of food as one would expect from a very rural farming community. One thing I have learnt is that rural communities in general eat better than those in towns, Ok we don’t have all the fancy restaurants but let’s face it the masses do not eat in such places the masses eat thing burgers in well known food chains with skinny little dried up French fries and fizzy drinks.

The bulk of the people at the valentines lunch had beef (real beef from a cow), I have never been a beef fan so I opted for the pork option with roast potatoes, boiled potatoes, stuffing, peas, red cabbage and various other things followed by lemon cheesecake and ice cream with loads of double cream, and it was jolly good too there were seconds and thirds of both courses but I think my towny genetic background let me down so I was unable to keep up with the true locals who polished off several main courses and a few puds.

 However the valentine’s lunch did mean that I was expected to look less dishevelled and scruffy and was told that even in the wilds of the country in general it is not good form to have bits of stuff falling off you at local events. And the odd mouse peering out of your hair during second helping of pudding is a sure way to get banned next year, I have to say that seems rather hard but it did mean I was required to be sort of clean and tidyish.  So that was the morning well and truly used up.

After the meal it is traditional to have a raffle, everyone takes a prize along which is also traditional and so there are loads of prizes, however for some reason I did not understand I did not manage to win any of the prizes even using my cunning trick of increasing my options of winning by rearranging the numbers on my tickets. That has always worked in the past but this time round it seems I just did not have enough fives to cheat (sorry win), next year I may buy my own book of raffle tickets that way I will have all the options ready and will be able to win all the prizes HAH HAHHAH HAH Hah ahh hah ahhah ha hahahhah hahahahha ha hahaha

OK that’s is it for now I am off to have supper some cheese and crackers, a pork pie and various other things  . . . . . . Maybe some twiglets, we all like twiglets YUM.


Saturday, 16 February 2013

Muddy Holes, Roots and Chainsaws

Today was the start of half term,  I know I sort of vary between the Welsh holidays and the English ones but I do live right on the border and after all the school is now an academy and as head boy I guess I can have holidays when ever I like. Yes I am still head boy despite several votes to remove me, but since dad has been bribing the selection committee with plain brown envelopes full of money the headmaster cant get rid of me. Apparently dad says its what parents do because the alternative is going to parents evening which is full of parents and depressed teachers which would be awful. 

So, here we are the at the end of the first day of the holiday, which was dry and even sunny at times and so I was sent down the large muddy cold wet dark hole in the garden again. It seemed a bit unfair to me but dad explained that as I have done most of the work in the muddy cold wet dark hole it would be terrible if he ruined all my effort and toil and got onto it. I did say I didn't mind but he said he knew I was just saying that to make him feel better about it. 

I did finally manage to get the large bit of root out of the muddy cold wet dark hole by using the chainsaw which was super sharp but which is now blunt wet and muddy, you see chainsaws hate water and mud, both of which are in abundance in the muddy cold wet dark hole. This now means I have finally sorted half of the muddy cold wet dark hole and once I have managed to remove a huge half ton concrete slab from the other half I can start all over again . . . .  O GOODY such fun . . . . . . .
I also got to do a bit of tongue and groove panelling which is almost finished for the moment; I have a small fiddly bit by the door to the utility room to do. I think I have one more strip to do and then it is done until a new hob and oven is fitted, luckily I don’t have to do that . . . . . . . . .AH DAMN.

One other thing I have noticed is that we have a mole in the garden; I am not sure if this is a classic case of if someone digs a hole then all the other hole diggers think oooooooo that must be a good place to dig holes I will go over there. 



Friday, 15 February 2013

The Steam Powered Weather Machine, A Very Very Large Rock and the Russian City of Chelyabinsk

What a lovely sunny day it has been here in the UK, dad is claiming it is all due to his weather machine but I think we can take that with a pinch of salt. AH yes another one of those silly saying. 

As it happens dad has been trying to refine the steam powered weather machine for a while now to create large hail stones and did his first live test last night over the Russian city of Chelyabinsk in order to avoid causing any problems or damage.  Then when dad heard the news this morning about all the bits of meteor, the large bang, broken windows and injured people he said AH . . . . But then you could argue that meteors are very similar to hail stone.

Also at breakfast he remembered that he might have accidently set the weather machine settings to the wrong setting last night, it was set to Large Rock Passing VERY VERY Close to Earth, mum had warned  him that his little joke (the equivalent of having eleven on your guitar amp) was all well and good but also very fool hardy and that one day it might come back to haunt him, and he may find himself having to explain to the United Nations that the huge hole in the planet is because he accidently pressed the wrong button.

So (back at the breakfast table) . . . . .  AH DAMN I ACCIDENTALLY PRESSED THE WRONG BUTTON said dad while eating his breakfast this morning I may have pressed the Large Rock Passing VERY VERY Close to Earth button ,  we all shook our heads and Mum said IDIOT.  But then he said later on, that it is probably the Large Rock Passing VERY VERY Close to Earth setting that gave us such a lovely sunny day, it seems that what dad might be saying is that if we want it to be sunny we may have to put up with large rocks travelling very fast and very very close to earth with the possible destruction of the planet. I must admit it is a close call floods or rocks mmmmmmmmmmmmmm, we have had a lot of floods for a long time now in the UK we need a change and a large rock would be novel.

Meanwhile in other news

As a result of DNA testing by the police in the flower shop they have tracked yesterdays incident with the flowers to the school mascot (the goat), you see the goat has form so to speak (that means he has a police record, not that he is a member of one of the classes in the school) so the headmaster has had to pay ten thousand pounds in compensation to the owners of the flower shop. He has warned all the pupils that he will need to save this money from the school budget and so has found a cunning way of doing this. It appears several large supermarkets have Food Mountains of accidentally incorrectly labelled food products that are going cheap, by buying in bulk he has been able to buy all the school dinners for the next twenty five years but has warned pupils that if they don’t like horses they might need to bring sandwiches to school.  So far there has only been one complaint from a parent called Mr Roy Rogers whose son Trigger says kemo sabe . . . . . . .?

Oooooooooooo yes I sharpened a chainsaw today and it is now very very sharp, so sharp it would cut a large fast moving rock in half like a hot knife through butter. . . . . Phew that could prove useful.


Thursday, 14 February 2013

The goat, the flower shop and the last orchid

All is well with the power today (so far) and it has also been sunny and is due to be sunny for a few days so WELL COOL, tomorrow is the day to let our electricity supplier know how much electricity we have generated in the last quarter. It is a day dad likes, it is always good to get money from your main supplier of power rather than to give them money, although this last quarter has been a little disappointing for solar panels mainly because we have seen very little sun. The solar panels have been on the roof a whole 12months now and over that period have generated enough power to easily pay for the entire cost of all our power usage over the same period so effectively we have zero energy costs and are energy neutral. This is why dad always smiles on sunny days and chases seagulls away from the solar panels who he says have been hired by the electricity suppliers to shade the sun from the solar panels of all members of the general public, not that it has not been a good twelve months for sun in the UK. It also means we can switch things on without any real worry about cost of energy. Well maybe the latest  50 foot high 1950’s electrically powered robot used a lot of power but then it short circuited yesterday when it malfunctioned and hit a wooden post with a large transformer on and had 11,000 volts arcing out of its head causing a bit of an explosion. Dad thought it best not to tell mum and has told me to keep it a secret . . . . . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN  . . . . . Dad has said IDIOT but luckily mum has distracted him by hitting him on the head with the armadillo toaster . . . . . . . PHEW.

Because it is Valentines Day today Esmeralda thought someone should get her loads of flowers, she asked for volunteers but we all thought it best to runaway very fast and hide. So in an act of rebellion she aimed the steam powered catapult at the flower shop and gave the goat strict instructions on what to bring back, red roses and expensive orchids. Well there were mutterings that this was all going to end in tears and sure enough it did.

I will say Esmeralda has certainly got her eye in with range finding these days and there is no denying that both her and the goat make a formidable force to be reckoned with but there one weakness still is communication. You see no matter how long we have all spent trying to get the goat to speak the English language it still has not mastered a single word, it does not help that the goat always eats all its English language books and its homework. And Esmeralda also is not great with languages either and is something of a traditionalist in as much that if someone does not understand her she shouts at them . . . . . .This is very traditional in Britain particularly is someone is trying to get directions; you would be amazed by how many foreign tourists have gone deaf trying to find the Tower of London.

AH DAMN distracted  . . . . . . Yes the goat and the flower shop, the goat landed perfectly right in front of the roses as planned but then promptly ate all of them, in fact the goat thought flowers were food (goats think everything is food).  So as the goat worked its way through the flowers the owners of the flower shop hit the goat with a large wreath saying GOODBYE UNCLE JACK.  This is water off a ducks back to the goat; he has after all been chased by the entire staff of a large supermarket throwing bar code readers at him.  What was a surprise was goats do not eat orchids so when the goat returned he did have several orchids discreetly hidden about his person (?) so Esmeralda was very happy . . . . . . PHEW.

 However as I said it did end in tears because as we passed the flower shop on the school bus heading home after school the owners of flower shop were very distraught and crying describing a goat to a policeman, as were many husbands who had rushed into to get flowers because they had suddenly thought ******* its Valentines Day DAMN . . . . only to find out all the flowers had been eaten by a goat, although there were several men fighting over the last orchid…… 


Wednesday, 13 February 2013

The Men the Woman a Wooden Pole and Electricity

It has been a dark day after a white start which is not what was planned, although the white start was predicted . . . Snow . . .  although not useful snow (again) but then about 11.00am all the power in the house went off, this happened the other day and then about 40 minutes later returned. Only this time it did not.  Mum phoned the people at Scottish Power who said AH you are a woman and that means that you do not understand it, it is probably one of your trip switches. Mum pointed out she is not an IDIOT and that all the trip switches were fine. But the man at Scottish Power said AH but you are a woman and this is electricity and no one else has phoned just you, so mum said he was an IDIOT and that regardless of who had phoned or not there was a problem. So the man said he would send a man to look and fix it.

The man then arrived at the house and looked at the earth trips and said Oooooo they are all right we thought as you were a woman you probably don’t understand electricity . . . .AH OK MMMMMMMM. So the man went off scratching his head and prodding wires, then he returned and said AH yes there is a bit of a problem in that transformer in the field next to you but its OK we'll have it fixed in no time. . . . . .PHEW that was good.

Then the man returned with his mate and said AH it’s a bigger problem than we thought, I don’t suppose you heard a big bang by any chance; mum said NO and the men said AH, anyway it might take a few hours to fix now because to put it in technical terms it appears that the cables are knackered and we need to call in reinforcements.

More men arrived then and looked at the transformer perched on its wooden poles (the transformer is perched on wooden poles not the men) and they pointed a lot and said AH and shook their heads in a knowing way and then had a cup of tea and ate sandwiches. Then said we will have it sorted in no time . . . . Well AH when we say no time we mean about eight hours.

So we had cups of tea on the open fire and sang camp fire songs because it was too dark and with no power the wondrous joys of cyberspace are like chasing a mole on the moon, (I know there are moles on the moon, I have seen mole hills with my telescope). The result of all this was in the dark we could see men with torches having a jolly time, we knew that because we could hear them laughing as they pointed and nodded in a knowing way a lot. But out of such disaster comes triumph, because without power we resorted to a Chinese takeaway YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY so it was not all bad. Then after finishing our takeaway and falling over cats that were playing trip the human, (they like that game), all the lights came back on and all the men ran away, and I get to write my diary entry for the day  . . . .


Tuesday, 12 February 2013

One man and his painted human silhouette . . . .

A mite on the cold side again.  . . . .DAMN

Just at present I feel I am staggering through a barren desert devoid of events and interesting things to write about; yes I know that we have a Pope and horses turning up in convenience foods, and Esmeralda has realigned the steam powered catapult so that the school goat landed in the large DIY store and became deranged from sniffing glue. I say sniffing I should possibly say chewing cans of glue. I don’t recommend letting a goat get deranged in a DIY store full of power tools and no frozen peas, I never even knew a goat could operate a chainsaw, I guess all those hours in the woodwork department have not been entirely wasted.

But the point is in the present state of limbo news and events are thin on the ground, and at this rate I will be telling you about Freddie’s new re-enactment of One man and his Dog, but who in their right mind wants to read about Freddie’s revival of the old show rounding up sheep and getting them into a pen at the bottom of a large field. Although in Freddie’s case he used his two best ferrets and the little old ladies from the Bingo bus and rounded them up into the trolley pen at the bottom of the large Supermarket car park.   

But you really don’t want to hear all about that, and I was a bit distracted anyway because I had painted a human silhouette on the car park near the disabled bays and was doing rather well making a few pounds doing the Richard the Third tourist trail reciting famous lines like “a trolley a trolley my kingdom for a decent trolley that does not squeak and pull to the left” and “Alas poor checkout operative I knew them well”.

AH right where was I OH Yes, the bitter cold long dark winter (ooooo yes “This is the Winter of our discounted Tent . . . 50% off”)  . . . . Sorry distracted again. I was saying the cold long dark winter where everyone has got their head down and nothing is happening and as a result has left me in a state of crisis with nothing to write about having arrived home late due to the escaped flock of Wildebeest that escaped from the processed food factory and were running towards the bypass holding up all the traffic including the school bus. And these new improved android bus drivers are rubbish, just because class 15AS set fire to Mr Harris the bus driver a couple of times.

Ok that’s it I will not subject you to the verbal equivalent of watching paint dry any longer and I will go and see if I can see that big hawk outside the house again, I was going to take a picture of it for you but in an act of defiance something that Hawks, Popes and Richard the Third are rather good at it flew away.  The pope does this too but Richard the Third takes a more Ostrich approach to defiance than a hawks approach to defiance. As Richard would say himself “An honest tale speeds best, being plainly TOLD BY Rob Z Tobor



Monday, 11 February 2013

The Pope, God and Elvis

It is a strange world we live in there I was wondering about what to write about when in general things have been normal-ish (excuse the bad typing I have cold hands and cant type at the best of times) and as predicted the world was covered in snow and ice outside but not nice snow and ice, so no snow zombies today.  And as I have complained endlessly about weather I will be good and not mention a word about it today . . . . . . AH DAMN.

So just for a change I thought I would look at the news because one of those little events has happened today that does not happen very often, in fact roughly about once every six hundred years I think; yes Pope Ben has resigned. This is a tricky thing to do when you are as they say the number two after the big man himself God, putting your resignation in writing to God is seriously tricky. It reminds me of that very popular song often played at funerals “Return to Sender” by the King himself, ELVIS . . . . WOW it is not often I get to talk about The Pope, God and Elvis all at the same time…

So Why you are thinking has this happened, as I have already said to my good friend Mr H, God moves in mysterious ways and as we get old so do we, it is well known that the elderly do all sorts of strange things; in fact the point comes where God moving in a mysterious way is less mysterious than the elderly moving about in a mysterious way, not an ideal position to be in if you are a Pope. And the result of all this is the Pope and God end up moving so mysteriously that they never get to meet. So the Pope has probably thought to himself where’s that God gone I'm sure he was here earlier.  

I was also somewhat bemused by the BBC news feed on their web site that said “Live: Pope resigns”  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Surely it is not just me who thinks hang on if he was dead he would not be able to resign.

While I was reading the BBC news web site I also saw the following . . . . .  Beef products 'pose no health risk', well we all know that, what most people wish to know is whether horse products are safe. Actually while on the subject of those dodgy food items I noticed they showed one on the TV yesterday after it was cooked and to tell the truth it looked awful. This you see brings us to a rather important point about the meat in these cheap convenient foods, the meat in them is that reconstituted stuff and may not be meat as such, more eyeballs, ears, bits of skin and various other things turned into a sort of slurry and then made to look like meat as you and I think of it. So some sort of real meat even in the form of a horse may not be a bad thing unless of course you are a horse…

I better go its somehow got late not sure how But I was drumming earlier and jolly good it was too.

Oooooooo yes I was able to take a photo of a tree this morning but not the Pope God or Elvis  . . . . .sorry.


Sunday, 10 February 2013

Bling bling bling bling bling . . . . . Power cut . . . . . . . . . . . .

O …… this is very annoying indeed, you see I had started to write things and was just getting into the swing of things when we lost all power and every thing was plunged into darkness.  Even worse when half your world is dependent of cyberspace. So what you may ask was I complaining about, sorry I mean writing about.

Firstly I do remember that I was saying about doing tongue and groove wood panelling again in a sort of DIY cowboy way as taught to me by the Ghost Writer who is also a very good IT cowboy. It appears that things are changing and in the old days folk took pride in being a DIY cowboy and the final job would look OK, although the route to the final job could take certain unorthodox turnings. Today however the same pride in being a DIY cowboy has gone people want everything done fast; quality of finish appears not to matter so these days we have DIY cowboy bodgers created bodged DIY work.

Just think back in the days of the Trojans, if the horse they made was a rubbish one with bits falling off and it looked like a sick camel then it would have ended up as fire wood or even cheap frozen convenience food and sold to the masses in supermarkets. The masses then complaining that the food tasted worse than the carton, and made them think of horses. Luckily things like this don’t happen any longer due to huge mountains of bureaucratic red tape, so big one could hide a horse in it….. OK enough on those beasts who as we know turned the head of the very nice Steven Spielberg ruining my opportunity at fame and fortune.  Yes I know he said my work was the work of an IDIOT but he had just eaten a large lasagne and had a bit of shock news……

Now what else was I discussing before this power cut, AH YES, the weather (AGAIN) it has rained all day and we  may have a bit of snow tonight turning to ice and rain tomorrow AAAAAAAAAuauuuuuuuggggghHHHHHHHH, I’m sure those of you in the USA who have just had five feet of snow in two days will say why is he complaining (AGAIN), but you see it is the relentless wet cold dullness of The British weather that is turning us all mad. Right now five feet of snow would be a nice change something we can go out and fight with sticks and things but relentless wet cold dullness saps the soul out of everyone you cant fight back or beat it or wave a large snow shovel at it or build defences or enjoy running about in it. I would not be entirely surprised if the power cut was a result of water seeping in through the edges of the national grid system and popping a few fuses.

Still I have not gone mad yet or I would be writing bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling  bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling  bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling  bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling  bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling  bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling  bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling bling  over and over again . . . . . . . AH DAMN

Mum has just said IDIOT


Oooooo yes it was Auntie Karen’s Birthday today, so I hope Auntie Karen and Ian the Musical Hat Maker have had a lovely day.

And we have had another power cut but I had just saved my ramblings . . . . . . PHEW

DAMN . . . . .His head fell Off

Saturday, 9 February 2013

tongue and groove wood panelling and a tiny dinosaur's head

Today due to the cold and damp (although no rain) I have continued the fitting of the tongue and groove wood panelling to the kitchen, there is very little left to go now although the very last bit is going to get held up waiting for some wiring to be done. Unlike in the old days when the general public could go around wiring anything to anything; these days you must be officially sanctioned in order to wire things up. The only real exception to this appears to be attempting to create a monster out of human parts using lightning, I think it is because fundamentally in that case you are dealing with an off grid system, although the health and safety executive have told dad off in the past for making monsters. Mind you since dad’s last monster did eat the health and safety man which at first you would think is bad it appears the result is our house is now black listed and health and safety officers say they refuse to do home visits on grounds of heath and safety, so that is good….

As you all know cyberspace can be a very strange world but from time to time so can the very real world of reality, and today I learnt of a strange little tale from the real world of reality that has all the hallmarks of life in cyberspace.

It appears that just before Christmas not very far away there was a small child who had a pet dinosaur, not a huge real one because that does not happen in the real world, no this is a smallish stuffed toy (bringing us back to reality).  The small child who I will not name because I don’t who he is, wanted a woolly hat for Christmas for his stuffed dinosaur.

It is worth remembering that a dinosaur has a small head in relationship to the size of its body so the small child’s small stuffed dinosaur had a small head, a regular sized woolly hat would fit a dinosaur that was huge and that would crush a small child. So finding a small woolly hat for the child’s dinosaur was a bit of a headache. It is at this point things start to get a bit strange, you see there are people out there that knit woolly hats for a particular type of yoghurt pot . . . . . . NO, this is entirely true it is some sort of charity thing raising money for abandoned yoghurt or something of the like. Unfortunately these turned out to be too big as we are talking  very small dinosaur so tiny head. Then someone who I know quite well knew of someone else who knits little hats for Ferrero Rocher chocolates that look like little knitted Christmas puddings . . . . . .WHAT? . . . . . . . . . Its entirely true if you think we are off on some strange story again then Google Ferrero Rocher knitted woolly hats and you will see that there is a knitting pattern available. And it turns out that this tiny hat made for a chocolate was just the right size for the dinosaur’s head (that’s a very small head) and the small child was very happy. And people think I live in a strange world but I can assure you none of us knit hats for either yoghurt or chocolates.

OK that’s enough for today I am waiting for sun and blues skies and refuse to have my daily diary stretched into war and peace until I have warmed up . .. . . . . . . ..