The Greatest Knitting Based Halloween Horror Story of all Time....

Once upon a time, in a smallish town in the heart of the big forest lived a little old lady, she lived in a funny rickety house near the forest edge pottering about in her garden and knitting. She was a very quiet little old lady who wore a big black knitted witch’s hat. She would always smile at passers by say hello and then continue to potter about in her lovely quaint garden which was full of strange little knitted cats and dogs and crows and butterflies and all sorts of things which seemed to move about almost every day to a new spot in the garden.

But come the evening of Halloween each year she would put scary life-sized knitted children in her garden that would make odd little squeaks and whines and jiggle about. They were very very scary looking knitted children, so scary that none of the children in the town would go trick or treating at the little old ladies house because they were frightened of the scary looking knitted children that squeaked and jiggled all night long. Then in the morning as the sun rose, all the knitted children were put away again in a large shed with a big padlock at the bottom of her garden until Halloween the following year.  

Then one year a small group of children who were dressed up particularly scarily thought to themselves . . . . . .We are very very very scary, even more scary that the knitted scary children in the garden of the little old lady, so they decided that they would go and see her and shout trick or treat. They knew she would be surprised and were hoping that their very very very scary costumes would frighten the little old lady and they would get a really good treat.

So as it got dark the children sneaked into the garden and up the path towards the front door past the knitted children who squealed and jiggled and made lots of strange little noises. Then as they were about to run off in fright the front door opened and the little old lady smiled and said Ooooooooooo trick or treaters . . . . . Would you like a treat and the children all shouted Yes. But to get their treat the children had to pull a long loose thread from the nose of each or the knitted children. As the children pulled and pulled the threads, the knitted children squealed and jiggled even more until they were just a huge pile of wool on the ground and the sound of the squeals vanished into the wind.  In the middle of each pile of wool however was a large box of candy sweets, the children cheered and ate them, but it made them feel very sleepy and before they knew it they were all snoring. 

  

The following morning as the sun rose the people of the town were out franticly hunting for a small group of children who had all vanished. This had happened in the past a long long long time ago apparently; once during a previous Halloween all those years ago a small group of children had all vanished never to be seen again, but it was so long ago it was now just an old fairy tale that folk would tell on Halloween.

As the towns people rushed about they stopped to ask the little old lady if she had seen the children, she shook her head pointing at the knitted children and said I am just putting my knitted children back in my shed. The knitted children squealed and squeaked and jiggled at the town’s people, who thought they looked even more scary than normal and also strangely familiar, but they turned to continue their frantic hunt for their own children.

They searched and searched but no matter how hard they hunted they never found their children ever again. And as the little old lady put the knitted children into the shed she looked at their little eyes blinking with fear and smiled and said I DO like a good trick; before going back inside to sit and knit, and spend all day laughing hysterically with a slightly mad glint in her eye, while stroking a large knitted black cat that almost seemed to purr . . . . . . . 

The Eve of Halloween in Rhyme.......... and the nice Steven Spielberg

It is the eve of Halloween

When scary monsters will be seen

And banshees scream into the night

To give small children a scary fright

And slimy clammy hands appear

Clutching bats and ginger beer

While gnawing red eyed rats attack

Eating the flesh from off your back

So tomorrow night on Halloween

When scary monsters will be seen

It’s best not to answer your front door

Better to read the diary of………

Rob

Z

TOBOR

HAH HHAH HAH AHH HAH HAH HA HAH h hha hah ah ha hah ah ha hah ah ha hahh ha ha ha hah ha ha ha ha ha ha……….

Yes I have written a scary tale for tomorrow  . . . . . The greatest (knitting) horror story ever told . . . . .almost.  An excellent film idea for the very nice Steven Spielberg.  

The shape of hospital cardboard and the face of Halloween and other stuff

The Big Storm has vanished off into Europe although there is little news of it now here in the UK, I feel over here is was a bit over hyped and so has vanished off the national news already. However my mind was focused on the more worrying thought of the dentist when I woke up this morning. Which was made even more scary by the news when we arrived at the dentist that our trusty family dentist of almost thirty five years has retired and run off. This was not welcome news and we did point out that turning up to see your faithful trusted dentist is one thing, but to arrive and be told Oooooo he has run off you will be see a totally new chap is as the old saying goes NOT CRICKET. Yes it is one of those saying again that makes no sense as it is plainly clear cricket and the dentist are not the same thing, even if both involve bats and drills.

I have to say my computers spell checker is very annoying tonight as it keeps informing me that my use of punctuation and comprehension is quite frankly rubbish, I have tried to point out that in fact this is part of the character of my diary, but it does not seen to comprehend that concept (a bit ironic if you ask me . . . .AH you did not).

This afternoon we ventured back into town to see Mr M who was looking a bit weaker today and was tired. He had a selection of cardboard things which as we know allow patients to do things like wee, poo and be sick in, or throw at seagulls should they venture in. So to cheer Mr M up I drew a whole selection of Halloween characters on these, as it happens the pee pots make brilliant heads and you can draw a smiley face on one side and a growling face on the other. I do have one useful tip to anyone else planning on doing this to cheer folk up in hospital, it is best to check all the various cardboard items before you turn them upside down to draw on them. . . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN.

All our trips out today have been conducted in a very very hot car, you see dad said that we need to dry out the inside of the car after yesterdays leaking sun roof incident in order to stop the car windscreen steaming up with condensation.  The car does have a very good heater and the car is almost dry again but it was hot in there for a while . . . . .PHEW.

As you can tell I am now home again and need to go and draw a quick picture for tonight’s diary entry, I will give myself half an hour and see what I come up with as a little challenge.

PHEW . . . . . . . . . .DONE

The Great Storm of 2013 and a leaking sun roof

As many of you will know there was a terrible storm due in Britain last night and this morning and for many there was, but as it happens it did not get very far northwards. Here in the borders between England and Wales in Shropshire it was very calm indeed and inspection of the garden first thing this morning revealed that the car sun roof had leaked slightly. In fact the weather was calmer here during the storm than it was the few days before it. I will say that although it was bad along the south coast of England and four people have died the BBC news keep talking like it was the entire country and the reality is it was not and that up in Scotland the wind reaches the same sort of levels most winters and wind speeds of 70 to 80 miles an hours are not abnormal in the far north and would never make the news. Maybe the BBC News folk are all excited because it has happened on their doorstep so to speak in London. I sort of thought they were getting a bit stretched for new stories when they showed a film of a fallen tree that nearly hit a car which would have injured the driver had the tree hit the car.

Anyway the storm did manage to stop trains and has turned the power off to a load of folk down south but not up north.  Those of us that live north of the Watford Gap have long considered life up north is much better that life down south, so I think many will feel that has been reinforced a little in the last twenty four hours.

I also moved a Shrub today and poked at a hole with a pointy stick and have been drumming tonight which is why I am in a rush and running a bit late. As it happens I have worrying news about tomorrow as I am off to see the dentist, who apparently still has power although he might lose it due to unexpected gust of wind blowing a pointy stick into his fuse box, that’s the buildings fuse box not his personally I don’t trust android dentists one bit.  

The death of Lou Reed, a Raven, a Storm, Aliens and a Walk on the Wild Side.

I was up a ladder this morning sawing bits of tree that needed to be removed; normally I would not do this, but it was a bit blustery and the big storm has not yet arrived (but was due any minute or so I was led to believe) so to be on the safe side I was volunteered. As it happened it was like the old pirate days the tree would sway about a bit, the ladder creaking away and me shouting at the wind to do its stuff, a grand way to spend a Sunday.  Anyway rather annoyingly I also had to chop all the bits of tree into smaller bits of tree and put them in a big pile which is far less fun.

While I was doing this Mr Jones  was passing, he said he was off into the woods as he says the big storm is in fact cover for an alien invasion of aliens from the planet Windyplace, one of those new planets they keep finding these days with that telescope where the trusty old cleaner retired. Apparently since she left the telescope lenses have been getting a bit dusty, although strangely this has also led to the discovery of loads of new planets.

I have just heard that Lou Reed has died aged 71, he was good and he did a really good version of The Raven, which reminds me that we saw two Yellow Wagtails today, apparently ravens and wagtails according to Mr Jones are a sure sign of aliens.  And that the gentle tapping at your door as referred to in The Raven is not a Zombie or a Skeleton or an annoying child wearing a plastic bin liner asking for small change or cheques or the wind or even a Raven, but is in fact An Alien from the opiate shores.

Anyway I am off to watch for the storm and Mr Jones is off to watch for aliens and we both think it likely to be a bit of a Walk on the Wild Side tonight . . . . . . . . 

  

.

The Big Storm and the Inside of Dinosaurs

We have been out and tied down any loose things that are in the garden in readiness for the impending storm which appears to have moved in time slightly to Sunday night, Monday morning. Dad has not turned his weather machine on for a while so he is dead pleased as no one will blame him.  It is difficult to predict if it will be bad or not but talk of the 1987 storm has been cropping up on the wireless and the weathermen are saying things like NOT THE SORT Of STORM YOU SEE EVERY YEAR. But as we all know the weather is unpredictable even at the best of times.

Earlier today we went to see Mr M in hospital although we did venture up his track to his house first to ensure everything was as it should be which it was. Hopefully the storm will not do too much damage to his rather frail barn complex and house which is a bit like being inside the body of a dinosaur, I am guessing about that as dinosaurs are thin on the ground these days (that’s thin as in not many . . . . not thin as in like a snake).  As it happens I get a bit annoyed by dinosaurs, or at least folk who are experts on them, because just lately there has been much talk that birds are the direct descendants of these beasts . . . . . . . Well I have said this for years and years and no one, what so ever was interested, the best I go was a smile and a nod from the odd person in the street who thought I was mad. There are several reasons for this (that’s why I think birds are dinosaurs not why folk think I’m mad) which would take a seriously long time to explain, but if I say LEGS some of you will see my point . . . .NO I don t not mean they both have legs either, it is to do with the way that both dinosaurs and birds legs are jointed and the way they walk, it is plainly clear to everyone (well me) (and OK creationists would say YA SUCKS BOO) that these beasts are very similar indeed just looking at their legs. As I said there are other things, but I would bore you, but the point is when some scientist says we have finally proved a link between these two critters just remember I was saying it was as clear as mustard years ago. That may be the wrong saying as it happens. I really should have written some of these theories down a long time ago, still I’m OK now I have a diary HAH HAHAH hah hah ah hah hah ahha hah ha hah ha hah ahha ha  ha ha ha

AH DAMN I got a little distracted again…….. sorry about that.   

And don’t forget that here in the UK the clocks get turned back one hour tonight in order to confuse our European Friends, making them miss the ferry. And it has got rather wet outside…..

The Chemistry Class Halloween Experiment and the Storm Warning for Britain

Today in School the Chemistry teacher said we might do a jolly Halloween experiment seeing how it is not far off now. Anyway it did not go entirely to plan, although it was not entirely my fault the instructions were a bit confusing.

Put the blue powder in the green bottle into the green liquid in the yellow bowl before you add the yellow liquid in the blue bottle to the yellow bowl which now has a green liquid in it. Then add the yellow powder from the red bottle to the red bowl with the yellow liquid in it, this liquid will now turn black. Then mix the two bowls together by either putting the black liquid in the red bowl into the yellow bowl with the liquid that has now turned blue or the other way round. So you then end up with a red bowl with a brown liquid or a yellow bowl with a brown liquid; you then add the red crystals from the blue bottle and stand well clear because there will be a lot of red and blue smoke.

But the thing was myself, Esmeralda and Freddie were watching a spider and giggling and trying to work out if it was one of those man eating spiders that closed that school on the news the other day so we sort of got our colours a bit mixed up.

I will not go into details but I have drawn a picture with my new hairy claws and have been told I will be back to normal by Sunday . . . . . . DAMN I was hoping the effects would last to Halloween, anyway mum says she has no plans to fry worms and earwigs all weekend to keep me fed, has told me off for swimming in the pond chasing newts.

Oooooo yes while on the subject of news, I notice that the weather forecast for Sunday is well wild around here and a fair chunk of Britain, so time to batten down the hatches, I assume that means you need to tie your chickens to the ground, they hatch eggs and both chickens and eggs will blow away in what is said to be a possibly really scary storm…. TAKE TO THE HILLS  . . . No hang on hill may be a bad place to be, unless it floods as well. . . . Run in circles and flap a lot; circles, maybe that is what the aliens were warning us about yesterday.

Time to go and eat more worms YUM. 

Trusty Old Converse Trainers unwittingly saving Aliens and other stuff

I had my trusty old converse trainers on today in order to ensure safe passage through the day. However the headmaster reckoned as today was the last dry day for a while and I was wearing what he called a manky pair of old trainers I could cut the school playing fields. Well that was not fair I tried to explain that for a tiny period of time my old converse trainers were famous on the internet, well for about a week they were, but it was like water off a ducks back . . . . I am not sure about that old saying I spent ages chasing a duck once to get the water off its back and as far as I could tell it looked just like water.

Cutting the grass was hard work for both me and my footwear but it did come with its own rewards because while I was cutting the grass I saw a small but noisy aeroplane, well it sounded like a small plane but it was invisible and it circled overhead then headed off in a northerly direction.  I then saw two invisible Red Kites (the birds not the fabric device used by Professor Frankincense). When I say I saw these things I looked at where the noise came from but did not see them as they were invisible.

However after lunch where I had told Esmeralda, Freddie and his ferrets and the school Mascot (the goat) about the invisible things I took them off to show them to prove they were there and real, and I was surprised to find a crop circle or a grass circle. This means that the invisible small plane was in fact an alien spacecraft, probably one of the Venusian Battle cruises mentioned yesterday and it was having engine problems. And the Red Kites were in fact aliens from Venus (the planet not the tennis player) and they were saying thanks for sorting out a decent landing pad with nice short grass. 

We have been out to see Mr M again to make sure he is OK I was able to show that if you slide a walking stick up the side of someone's leg while they are wearing trousers and are a bit poorly, they are completely incapable of moving. Mr M is not eating all his food so I also balanced five oranges on the end of his walking stick; that was before I trapped him in bed with the leg trick. AH  . . . . . . DAMN I have a feeling I may have forgotten to remove the walking stick from the side of his leg before we left. I guess the nurses might notice.

Aliens are from Venus, Zombies are from Popular television shows.

As I said yesterday the Ghost Writer had to go into his office today to do things, he is not happy apparently he has got five more working days till Christmas, it does not sound much to me. He says that there is only eight of nine more Saturdays till Christmas and only about three weeks until Easter eggs start appearing in the shops and the hardiest of folk start queuing up to buy the Boxing day sale bargains.  As someone who makes things out of cardboard boxes, Boxing Day is a good day as in general there are lots of empty boxes about that folk do not want.

The Ghost Writer says he wrote the greatest technical paper ever written about something no one is interested in and then he shouted at some software.  Of course his technical paper is technically not the greatest technical paper ever written as my diary is, although it uses a lot of paper. It is also the dynamic opposite of his technical paper as everyone is interested in my diary, well everyone except the very nice Mr Steven Spielberg, but I now put this down to the fact it is too heavy to pick up these days and he is getting a little older than he was.

To slightly change the subject myself and Mr Jones noticed a bright light in the sky to the west tonight, low on the horizon hovering in the air at dusk.  So it is plainly an alien Venusian Battle craft masquerading as a planet, but we known, they can’t fool us, we have not been turned into Zombies getting excited by folk baking cakes, and things like that in order to win a glass cake stand.

Those Zombies are testing the human population and once enough folk spend the night watching cakes bake, or so called celebrities who keep telling the nice Mr Spielberg I am mad, dancing in circles or the man from the butchers singing the green green grass of home while his dog tap dances; they will make their move (that’s the Zombies not the dancers). Well that’s if the aliens don’t get here first and end up in a battle to the death battle with Zombies while the human race phone up to vote for the fire eating granny from Blackpool or a French ventriloquist oblivious of what is going on outside (that’s the humans not the French ventriloquist) .

AH . . . . . . . DAMN I got all distracted again, this diary is getting a bit erratic. Anyway I got a photograph of the alien battle cruiser with the Steam powered Y Ray telescope as evidence of what is going on.  People don’t believe me without evidence which is quite frankly unbelievable.  

Hospitals, Waiting and the Famous Writers Loop Syndrome

It has been a long day of waiting and some travelling for various reasons that would take a long time to explain and which would not help the script of the blockbuster movie that everyone is hoping that the very nice Mr Steven Spielberg is going to make once enough folk have signed the partition and jabbed at him a with pointy sticks. . . .  The Eccentric Diary of Rob Z Tobor (The return of the curse). I have added the return of the curse because I have reason to believe that when my man phones his man, his man turns to Mr S and says it’s the return of the curse again…..  I don’t mind if he wants to call it that but it would make more sense to have a quick read of the half a million words or there abouts already written. And it is a lot chirpier than that Harry Potter bloke who got right moody as time passed, ungrateful chap that he is. There he is in all these films and what does he do whinge a lot, some folk are just plain grumpy even when fame and fortune is staring them square in the eye. That’s one those saying again, fame is not square and does not stare at people.

Sorry I got side tracked as I do, as I said the day involved travelling and waiting at hospitals, two of them as it happens. The first was the hospital with the peacock that wanders about outside the main entrance. It is a male peacock and looks a bit dishevelled, but I think this may be due to the time of year as it no long needs the fancy tail to display. We spent a long time waiting about in this hospital but the good news is we will not be back to it for about a year.

The second hospital was to see Mr M as he was on route to home, but we arrived a little early so had to wait to see him. He is OK but has to drink horrible looking coffee although he says the food is much better that the last hospital. His last hospital was not the one with the peacock.

It is odd how spending the day travelling waiting then travelling and waiting and then travelling can sap all your energy.   As it happens so can a Ghost Writer who has to go into his office in the morning and do stuff, he is complaining and muttering away about it when he should be pleased he missed the big meeting today for reasons that would also not help the script of the blockbuster movie that everyone is hoping that the very nice Mr Steven Spielberg is going to make once enough folk have signed the partition and jabbed at him a with pointy sticks.

AAAAAuuuuuugghhhhHHHH NO I am suffering from the famous writers loop syndrome now…….. I better go and lie down.  

Sorry about the picture I don’t have a peacock to hand in the house and this was the next best thing…….

Television, Zombies and Sir Walter Raleighs Duck Pond.

As you know if you read last nights diary entry we went to see Mr M in his new hospital where he is much happier, and as I also said I got to play with the controls of his bed. It is amazing what shape you can turn a patient into with these beds and now I know how magicians do that trick sawing the lady in half, I did practice a few times at school for the school talent show but they banned me from using any more 1^st years.  Well it appears you don’t actually saw anyone in half after all.

Anyway this is all by the by (another saying that means if you are near something you are also by it . . . .Yes I agree silly) the point I was coming too concerns Zombies because I am concerned. What I noticed as I tried to make a figure eight with Mr M is that everyone else in his little ward were watching a television, even the visitors of the other patients and they sat there the entire time not moving or talking or even blinking and then a thought came into my head. Yes thoughts do that they seldom arrive anywhere else I have never had a thought in my foot or hand or at least I don’t think I have.

Hang on where was I  . . . . . AH yes, you see everyone looked like Zombies and then I realized that there must be Zombie scientists out there and they designed a machine so cunning in its ways that we have taken to it like a duck to Walter, Yes its one of those silly saying again, I have no idea who Walter is unless it is that Walter Raleigh the inventor of the bicycle who spent a lot of time floating about on his duck pond looking for potatoes.

Sorry distracted again; you see this cunning machine of the Zombies has taken over the world and is slowly turning skilled intelligent humans into Zombies, deskilling us so that when they finally attack, folk will be powerless to save themselves. Folk will just say things like ooooo look  its whats-his name from thingy on that programme on the tele, he looks just like a Zombie, only he will be a Zombie.

Yes I think you realize that I am talking of the television and I suggest that you all run off and turn them off NOW before it is too late, you can spend your evening doing things like sharpening pointy sticks, making model mice out of cheese to confuse the cat or even reading the incredibly brilliant Slightly Eccentric Diary of a certain person who will remain nameless (me) . . . .

Oooooo yes what did I do today  . . . . . . . . . . Ooooooo dear best not to tell. How come there is always a screw left over when you put things back together. 

A traditional Sunday in a funny sort of way

Today has been a funny day, when I say funny I do not mean in a light up revolving bow tie sort of way with amusing fish and small mechanical boxes that chuckle and giggle at anything and everything particularly if it involves an amusing fish. NO I refer to funny as in sort of odd but not odd say like a three headed goose singing close harmony acapella church music to the tune of Smoke on the Water, I simply refer to it being a funny day as in the old saying meaning it has been a funny sort of day.  I think I should leave trying to explain this and get to the point.

After a chilled sort of start to the day, it was (is) Sunday after all; I decided to do a bit of Cardboard Arty stuff as I have things to finish as part of The Monty Cardboard Robot Clubs expansion plans into the giddy heights of artist elitism. We plan to make up complex arty stories to confuse the punters and then charge them loads of money. . . . .  Mr F had to head off along the twisty roads towards home, although I must admit after the first twenty miles he was on motorways most of the way and they are not really twisty.

Then Mr Bruce and Miss C called by to see us, we have not seen them in ages, so we had a long chat before we had to run off to see Mr M in his new Hospital. He appears much happier in his new hospital, I got to play with the controls to his all singing and dancing bed, all sing and dancing is another silly saying because things like beds seldom do either let alone both at the same time.

So that was my day , I have noticed that Sundays are starting to get like the old Sundays talked about by folk who remember the old days when Sundays were really low key and you would spend the afternoon watching an old black and white cowboy film starring Gary Cooper or if you were really desperate Rin Tin Tin.

OOOOoooooo hang on what’s that you say Skippy; Rin Tin Tin fell down the old mine shaft and was eaten by aliens . . . . . . . . . . HAH HAH HAH AH HAH Ahah hah ahah hah ah ha hah ah aah h ahahah hahah ah ah ahahahhah aha h aha ha haha ha ha ha . . . . . 

Aliens, clouds, spies, curry and vineyards

 You can always tell that you might be standing next to spies when one man in a raincoat and designer sunglasses reading the Times newspaper says . . . . . The gazelles are not happy pushing the supermarket trolleys in the mud. And then another man in a raincoat with designer sunglasses reading the Times newspaper says  . . . . .  The bicycle has climbed the tree in the wood again, I will light the fire. . . .  I did add . . . The Seagulls are less active when the Queen sings. But I was told seagulls are very old school and no modern spy fresh from the headphones of GCHQ would even know what a seagull was these days, now we have the internet and stuff.

Anyway other than encounters with spies and a small grumpy alien who refused to abducted Mr Jones on the grounds that he was naked yet again and  that they had already adducted him three times this year; and really knew as much as they needed to know about him, not a lot has happened today. Oooooo yes I might have seen a pirate or it may have been a duck, sometimes if things move fast the mind will change the things to a more suitable object to fit in with the situation, like for example seeing a tap dancing crow holding a ice cream on the Eiffel tower . . . in a cloud above the house while digging a hole with a pickaxe.

Mr F is with us for the weekend and we went off to a vineyard to drink hot chocolate and discuss cheese. It was a very nice vineyard just the other side of Churchstoke and they we right in the middle of their main harvest, I don’t drink wine which explains the hot chocolate.  I also continued to dig my new hole with the pickaxe although it started to rain from an interesting looking cloud which stopped that in its tracks as they say . . . Yes a hole does not make tracks, so not an ideal saying really.  And we have been for a curry in Monty with Mr F which was good.

And really that is about it I think.

Ooooooo some folk are doing a jigsaw as I am typing this by the way and I am also drinking tea.

Vegetarians, sheep, sausages and hard places with rocks

Today I have not done a great deal; I am getting to be quite an expert in the noble art of not doing a great deal. Mrs E formally known as Miss I has leapt into action to help Mr M who has been trapped between a hard place (his hospital Bed) and a rock (a pile of rocks in the hospital car park). Luckily though Mr M is being moved from one hospital to another as I type where he will have time to sort things out a bit more, and luckily Mrs E formally known as Miss I was on hand to help pack Mr M’s bag and make sure he was OK for the big move. He will be much nearer his house making things a bit easier for folk to go and see him.

Both Mr M and Mrs E formally known as Miss I are vegetarians as are other folk I know, and our good friend Mr F as come up for the weekend who also has a very healthy diet. So I have had to try and defend the diet of the unhealthy almost single handed today in conversations about food.  As it happens some people have rather odd concepts about who is a vegetarian, all the folk I know are real vegetarians, but I have heard of many vegetarians who eat fish or even chicken and I recently heard of one who ate lamb. This was a new one to me as lamb is hard to justify as vegetarian on most levels, it is after all meat from a beast with four legs that runs about in a field, fish are sometimes eaten on the grounds they don’t have legs or fur and chickens on the grounds they only have half the number of legs of real animals like sheep. But a lamb is a sheep and I rather like lamb so I reckon if lamb is vegetarian then I eat a healthy diet after all as I don’t eat beef, I cant risk the chance of the cows that surround our house finding out because cows are quite big. Although we have chickens living next door also, chickens are smaller and just a bit stupid so I can eat them and they wont know, as it happens I cant eat the chickens next door as the are all rare breed chickens and a bit pricey to eat.

Anyway as I said right at the start I really have not done a thing today and have nothing what so ever to write about; so rather that write a whole load of stuff about stuff of absolutely no interest to man nor beast, like say food and folk who don’t eat beasts I better go . . . . . . . . .AH DAMN  

Sausages for tea . . . . YUM  

The unseen problems of things you cant see.

I guess that some of you are wondering if I (Rob Z Tobor) am still a part-time teacher of Zombie Defence Classes  and the like, in the strange cyber-academy of cyberspace.

Yes

And you are wondering if Esmeralda is still there and whether she snapped my trusty pointy stick in half in a fit of rage.

Yes

And you might even be wondering if I fixed it with some handy electrical tape that was not really doing a lot.

Yes

And now you are wondering if the fact there was an electrical short circuit in the science blog resulting in an entire blackout in school meaning that teaching science was very difficult indeed resulting in everyone being sent home early

Yes

Have you noticed just how dependent on electricity we are, it is a bit of a worry really and also rather odd, because the entire Earth has become dependent on something we can’t see. Well that is not entirely true we do get to see lightning but the problem with lightning is it not the easiest stuff to use constructively. Dads lightning powered electric car was not a great success even if it did do one of the fastest zero to sixty miles an hour ever recorded, but it would have been even more impressive if dad had been in it at the time. As dad says the problem with lightning is it unpredictable and you can’t park the lightning powered electric car in the same place twice for reasons that are plainly clear to all who know the famous old saying. And dads assistant mechanic Scotty, after investigating the engine did make the point that the engine will nay take it Captain.

I have just been outside as I saw a message in cyberspace saying the moon was like really looking really cool; only over here it is hiding behind a huge cloud, possibly created by an overheated lightning powered electric car.

We also got to see Mr M today and his son Mr S, it appears Mr M is still trapped between hospital and no place to go…. He thinks the hospital might write to him in hospital to ask when he is able to leave hospital; although he is still not allowed home so it is all a bit of a game sorting out something suitable. As for as we can tell most of the suitable places have already been taken over by little old ladies with white hair who have a habit of stopping strangers in the street and shouting at them I remember when we never had electricity and now you see it everywhere. I once tried to explain to a group of little old ladies you can’t see electricity but they hit me with umbrellas and then demanded electrical tape to fix them. 

Steam Powered Ducks and Old Converse Trainers

Today started in a wild and windy way and sort of got windier and wilder until mid-afternoon when the sun finally came out. I know it was the windiest day in a long time as poor old Steam Powered Duck was blown over the waterfall and was upside-down lying in the lily pads. Not a dignified way to spend your time and full of technical issues if you are a Steam Powered Duck. Anyway I can now assure everyone she is back in her own pool and looking none the worse for the experience, and I believe the long term memory of ducks is limited.

   

We also had a visit from Miss Jo who has spent much time whizzing about from place to place doing things and talking to folk about stuff. Something we all have to do from time to time although I do try and avoid too much talking to folk about stuff if I can.  Miss Jo then had to whizz off to do other things and collect Miss E  . . . . .I think.

Once the sun came out I was able to grab my trusty pickaxe and make a hole in the ground, it has been a while since I made a hole in the ground, although the ground was not ideal for making holes due to all the rain in the morning. I was also digging in my trusty Old Converse Trainers which are getting that real lived in feel these days although the soles are sort of very thin and falling off.  If the soles do fall off it will be terrible because I have never heard of Old Converse Trainers with no soul before and I do not want to own the first pair. . . . . .  I wonder if I can fix them with super glue.

AH  . . . . . DAMN I have super glued my trainers onto my feet

Mum has said IDIOT.

The Paradoxical Loop of the National Health Service

We have been to the Hospital today to see Mr Michael who is not well, he was asleep when we arrived and I have now been informed that poking patients with a pointy stick to wake them up is not good for many reasons. The first of which is the loud scream upsets the other patients who then also scream, leading to general panic and a rush to the exit by the visitors who fear that the patients have all turned into mad Zombies. The second reason is it sets off the heart monitors, which then makes all the nurses rush to the patients, where they (the nurses) are trampled to death by fleeing visitors escaping from Zombies. They would like to send Mr M home but he lives at the top a hill with a long impassable track to it, so there is a lot of confusion at present about where Mr M will be allowed to go.

It is interesting that politicians often shake their heads and sigh a lot about the problems of the national health system and how as we all get old so we all need more support, but then they complain we are all living too long and need to work until we are all much older to pay for it all. Of course one of the reasons we all live much longer is that the national health system is jolly good at keeping everyone up and running about so that we can all work until we are all really old to help pay for the national health system. You can see there is a terrible loop going on here one that is yet to be resolved by the powers that be.  And our Friend Mr M has the as yet unresolved problem of he is not allowed to go home due to his impassable track but he is also not allowed to stay in hospital, it appears the world is very complex……  

Reuniouns, Proof of Aliens Breeding on Earth and Dogs

Before I return to tell more of the secret mission on the South Wales coast I must first let you know I have been close to the North Wales Coast today on what was a grand reunion for old school friends. I must also add that although I was there it was not a grand reunion for my school and I did not have a clue who anyone was, and they did not know who I was, although they all knew each other. It is odd being at the grand reunion of folk who have not seen one another for up to 40 odd years or so when you have never met them before, but they were all very nice people and I got to have a nice lunch, a hot chocolate and an exciting drive along some of the wettest motorways I have ever been on which was well scary….

So while on the subject of wet scary things I should show you my proof of aliens breeding on the beaches of Saundersfoot in Pembrokeshire, because it is rather convincing. And before anyone thinks I have been tinkering with the picture I can assure you I have not. The only thing I have not worked out is do these aliens remain tiny aliens in which case they can sneak about unseen, after all I did photograph those Nano-Alien spacecraft way back when and those two bits of evidence do rather link up rather well. On the other hand they could grow into huge aliens very fast and pass themselves off as members of the yacht club; in fact could it be the local yacht club is a front for alien activity.

Note the little Alien faces as they emerge from their shells

 One other small thing I noticed about beaches is they have a strange effect on two particular creatures on the planet; both go a bit silly when placed on a nice sandy beach, Humans and Dogs.  Is there a reason for this what is in both men and dogs that makes them run about on beaches digging holes and chasing balls, is the fact that a dog will see man as a god and god is in fact dog backwards significant. Could it be that we both emerged from the primitive earth’s sea millions of years ago at the same time, man throwing his first pointy stick at his prey only to have it returned by a primitive dog wagging his tail and waiting for a treat, did this lead to the hotdog (lead . . . dog . . . Hah HAHHAH ha hah ha hah ha hah ha hah hah ah ah ah ha hhhah hahah ha hah hah ha ha ha hahah ah)      

Sand Circles. Aliens and a Wet Sunday Afternoon

Having been away on a secret mission at the coast for a week in Pembrokeshire where it was warm and sunny, yes that is a bit of a shock but luckily I managed to make Whalesimus the Micro God of Sunny beaches and holiday homes and his trusty Horse of the Sea. However he is not the Micro God of Home and so it is raining today somewhat, more that somewhat really.  I did say I would tell of some of my adventures and as today is cold and damp and I am doing very little in the tradition of a cold damp autumn Sunday, now is a good time to start.  I am sure you will be interested to know that there was much communication with aliens using the old classic Sand Circles method as favoured by many of the less aggressive aliens. Sadly Mr Jones was unable to visit us, but he did send the Ghost Writer down to help interpret messages and supply us with a suitable pointy stick to reply.

I also at one point had to save a dog fish from a rather aggressive seagull, I should point out all seagulls are aggressive even the friendly ones (this was not a friendly seagull). The poor old dog fish was stranded on the beach, I suspect left there by a dog who was annoyed by a fish pretending to be a dog. So the dog was sort of saying OK then Mr Clever lets see you do walkies, which the dog fish failed at rather badly allowing a mad seagull to attempt to eat it alive, not a nice thing to do.  So I returned the dog fish to a deep rock pool where it appeared to recover a bit although I will never know for sure if the dog fish managed to recover and make its way back to the safety of the sea (the world is full of such unknowns)…

I also met a talking telescope which demanded money or it was not going to tell us a thing, I told it that was extortion and I refused to pay him so he just sat there pretending to ignore us. Talking telescopes it appears are unsociable beasts who spend most of their time looking blankly out to sea in a grump.

Right well for now that is about it as I may go and attempt to shrug off the grey cloak of a damp autumn Sunday far from the nearest IKEA.  I will show you conclusive prove of aliens breeding on the beaches of Britain in the next few days, it was a bit of a shock to me too but the camera can not lie.

The Haunted Mill and my Return from the Secret Mission

I have returned from my secret mission (HELLO  AGAIN) which as you know was a secret in the best tradition of secret missions, and I will tell more of this in the following days, the dog fish, the alien message, the pointy stick, the Ghost Writer and the mushroom and the talking telescope as well as the strange yet tiny beasts. So all will become clear in the end, sort of.

But today we were making our way back home through the twisty roads of Mid-Wales from our secret location down on the South Wales coastline and as it happens it turned into a rather interesting little trip. Well I say interesting most of it was regular normal travelling, but we decided to stop and have a cup of tea at a mill, an old weaving mill whose heyday was a long time ago.  It was just a mill with a small shop and a tea room which looked much like any other mill you might pass in the middle of nowhere, and even entering the door was as one might expect…. . . . . . . However ………

You see this mill was a haunted mill, plainly obvious from one of the books it was selling called The Haunted Mill, a clue if ever there was one. We entered the mill along with two other couples and as we moved through the rather rag tag collection of jumpers, souvenirs, books, woven material and some odd things, we heard a mad little old lady shouting. . . . . is there anybody there and ringing a big bell . . . then she was shouting hello is that you and things like that. These are things that people often shout in haunted building and a strange little old lady in an old welsh weaving mill seemed to be very in keeping. However it turned out the little old lady wanted a cup of tea, much like the rest of us and we then realized that the old mill was empty except for the handful of customers. So then we all started shouting is there anybody there and hello while ringing the bell and giggling a lot, although no one went Oooooooooooooo in a ghostly manner just in case.

Then up popped (after a bit of time) an elderly but neat chap who was keen to round us all up, although one couple escaped before he arrived. So we all ordered tea and hid at the back of the tea room sniggering still, although not within view of the man from the mill just in case he was a ghost and was known for putting passers by through weaving machines. Turning them into bizarre woven wall hangings with strange ghostly faces; much like the one hanging on the wall near the spot we were all hiding and sniggering in. None of us had any food, but then more people arrived who did not know of the strange events we had encountered and ordered food, we were not sure the elderly but neat man could make food so we all sniggered again before scurrying off into the afternoon in our different directions.

Ooooooo yes I have made cardboard things while I was away, of which I will tell another day……  

The Greatest Fairy Tale of all Time (no not Snow White and the seven dwarfs)

As I am off on a secret mission which is a secret my diary will not be written for a few days, and no one else wishes to write it while I’m away on the grounds it is rubbish. So in order to keep folk amused (or not) until my triumphant return I have rewritten an old favourite fairy tale, I am no fool, I know it is best to keep to a winning formula to please the punters.

So this is it for now until it is time to start my diary again. I have my trusty pointy stick and will be hunting strange monstrous beasts as I travel.

The Greatest Fairy Tale of all Time

Icy Black and the Seven Giants

Once upon a time there was a grumpy young prince called Icy Black who would wander about the castle of his step-father the King muttering and complaining at crows and seagulls and some of the servants; who would say things like if you grump like that young master Black the wind will change direction and you will be grumpy for life and look like a big Frog. Prince Icy Black would always shout GOOD and stamp about until someone gave him ice cream to keep him quiet. His step-father, King Arthur had a large round table (a talking table) and each day he would ask it table,table in the hall who is the happiest of them all, and the table would always say KING ARTHUR.

Then as Prince Icy Black got older he started to really get on the nerves of everyone with his constant grumpiness and then one day when King Arthur said table,table in the hall who is the happiest of them all the table said Boris the Greengrocer, the King was shocked and asked the table why and of course it was because after nineteen years of grumpiness Prince Icy Black was making everyone unhappy. 

The King thought OK I have had enough of this and sent Prince Icy Black into the forest and gave the nod to the knights to sort of chop his head off. But once in the forest Prince Icy Black complained so much the knights forgot about killing him and stuck cotton wool in their ears and ran back to the castle.

Then as it got dark and prince Icy Black was moaning he was cold and hungry he came across a huge house, as he pushed the door open he was confronted by seven giants who looked at him and complained and grumped for at least an hour about strangers turning up and leaving doors open and not wearing matching shoes.

It turned out that the seven giants were even grumpier than Prince Icy Black which made him very happy so it was a bit of a shock several weeks later when King Arthur asked the round table table,table in the hall who is the happiest of them all the table said Prince Icy Black. Everyone at the castle thought O NO he might come back so a plot was hatched and an apple was laced with a magic sleeping potion and one of the knights returned to the forest where he made a tower of five apples outside the house of the seven giants. Of course Prince Icy Black could not resist saying he was going to eat the bottom apple destroying the tower, but as he did so he fell asleep and snored really loudly.

When the seven giants returned from their day job of guarding a small village from a group of Japanese samurai bandits they thought, we cant cope with all that snoring so put Prince Icy Black in a sound proof glass box in the woods.  As time passed everyone lived happily until one day a passing princess saw Prince Icy Black and thought Ooooooo I know I will kiss him, and all in an instant he turned into a huge frog and got in a right strop leaping about shouting, so the princess ran off. After chewing a few flies Prince Icy Black thought I know I will go and see King Arthur he will be pleased to see me.

The End . . . . . . . . . . . . Or is it

A Big Fish