An A to Z Coronavirus observational guide. . . P

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Premonitions and Predictions  . . .

It’s a funny thing but back on the 13^th January of this year . . .2020 I wrote the following on my trusty blog, at the time it was raining loads and on most days too . . . . . . .

Anyway I was not wrong
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There is a tiny leak in the workshop and also the summerhouse, the result of a rather wet winter, but these can’t be fixed until the rain stops. I have a feeling that it will not be long until something rather profound happens on the planet that will have folk saying . . . . . . . WHAT . . . . How did that happen . . . .

I don’t know what this will be or when but I do think it will be sooner rather than later. However as I have already said I am just a chap and know nothing.

Right that’s it I’m off now. Not sure when I will return, but if something profound happens I’ll be here saying    . . . . I told you so and being all snug while fending off an Alien, Zombie or squid with a pointy stick.

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Anyway my comment on impending doom of some sort did not really help much partly because I did not know the nature of the impending doom. And in part because my advice on previous occasions to the powers that be in China have had absolutely no effect whatsoever. I have warned them that not to listen to me is an error of judgement but they seldom listen to anyone but themselves; so a mad old grumpy chap in rural Britain who has little influence an anything stands no chance of being heard. . . . . .

Steven Spielberg, the making of Tinker Tailor Rob Z Spy, and monitoring social media

As my very long term followers will be aware I have had many run ins over the past nearly three years with forces that lurk in the shadows; dark forces that can sneak up on you and suck the brains out of even a fully grown antelope or brown bear, yes we are talking Zombies, Ooooooo no sorry we are talking Spies. Yes those men in the dark designer sunglasses who on a rainy day in Britain stand out like a sore thumb as they stumble about unable to see where they are going. Those of you who remember the Einstein Cube or the Jules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine will know of my many run ins with the CIA, MI6 and various other security forces including the KGB in the past. So I have to say that as the eccentric child of cyberspace using the world of social media to write my diary I must confess that the recent news that certain forces are monitoring the world of social media is not new to me. In fact I feel I may owe you all a bit of an apology for bringing them here in the first place.

If you think about it poor old Charles and his mate Quentin the back room boys at GCHQ, which if you Google tells you their address and telephone number, which is silly (hello chaps) who are monitoring all the chit chat of social media have a terrible job, just think how boring it must be to sit and monitor stuff without ever being allowed to make the odd comment on a Facebook page or follow the occasional blog making witty remarks or say even start your own blog chatting about life and stuff, Zombies and maybe take the cunning disguise of say an Eccentric Child and part time Pirate in the strange twilight world of Cyberspace, lets face it spies, particularly the back room boys will work much better if they are happy in their work, and a bit of interaction with the punters is just the ticket.

Anyway as Charles and his mate Quentin would say themselves if you can’t trust a man with an original portrait of President Putin, (a gift from the Kremlin) hanging on his wall then who can you trust. And as I have said elsewhere tonight when the nice Mr Steven Spielberg makes the film Tinker Tailor Rob Z Spy from my rather popular serialized diaries the security forces will deny everything, well everyone except Quentin and Charles who may be allowed to be extras in a dramatic scene where the hero and his trusty Lemmings confront the arch villain, a man called Moriarty who has accidently run onto the wrong set.   

The Mars Rover, one small 4X4 for man one giant leap for a chicken

As I said last night I got to go to Brecon with the Ghost Writer who said I need to do something exciting now because he is getting bored, that is not very nice. His day went remarkable well considering it is the fickle Brecon base where the computers get affected by the old stone circles in the hills, and then worse still people using them to do stuff.

We are both well exhausted now and rapidly running out of steam, much like the Olympics. I guess with today sort of returning to normal here I just started to get the feeling that the edge and glory of the great British Olympic jolly has just sort of peaked now and the big dark arms of normality will soon embrace the country again.  Even the main news has returned to politics and war now so that is a sure sign that we have turned a corner.

However Mr Jones the Alien spotter is very happy he says that the Americans dropping a large 4X4 on Mars is bound to get some sort of response from the Martians. No one likes having someone else’s 4X4 dropped in their back garden by surprise, well not unless it has a big bow on it and you are given a card saying Happy Birthday and a set of keys. I don’t think that is what is planned because one thing we do not know about life on Mars is when its birthday is (OK Mr Jones says he does). I did see a brief bit of film of the 4X4 being dropped but I did not see what happened to the thing that dropped it.

So Mr Jones is off to the woods tonight with a birthday card and a cake (a green cake) with 12,934 candles on it and jingling a set of keys. They are not the right keys (not the 4X4 on Mars), they are the keys to his slightly rusty ex Fed-Ex van which he has hand painted in day-glow green with an alien head on the roof. Not a real one, he might tell you it is real but it is made of papier-mâché and plastic milk bottles…….. and green.

Sadly it is a little know fact that Man is not the first to reach Mars someone has been there before us……. MMMMMMMMmmmmmm

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

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

the sky this evening

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

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

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

An OBSCURE Russian OLIGARCH, OWLS and Harry ***** Potter

O Dear….. Despite Obverting my eyes in an Odd way I still ended up On the ORANGE school bus (the only Orange school Bus) ON what was an Ordinary day.  According to the Weatherman on the wireless (the Oracle Of all Our Weather) it was going to rain all day something Orrible (sorry horrible) Only it was Sunny sort OF.  On the bus Esmeralda was being rather Ostentatious and it turned Out she has spent her Oliday (sorry holiday) working for the ISOBAR handing Out flyers offering free entry and a free drink. She was also hopping to make some other cash selling (Blackmailing) Obscene photos of the lemming of Petrograd; however they have posted all the photos On their Facebook page and have Ordered more for Old friends back in Omsk.   

Just in case you are thinking WHAT????..... You don’t obviously follow my Diary on a regular basis, I am Open to such Outrage but feel at this point it is time for you to go Off to Other Offerings in cyberspace, Outwards and Onwards so to speak (write).

OK at school the Headmaster had invited the OSLO OCARINA ORCHESTRAL ensemble to play after the Ovation and Oodles of praise from their previous Outstanding visit.  The OSLO OCARINA ORCHESTRAL ensemble are funded by an Obscure Russian  Oligarch who made his fortune selling Owls to Obsessive Harry Potter Fans desperate to buy any sort of Harry Potter Objet d'art. Anyway me and Harry Potter are not mates as you know, and I will not gloat by saying he is now an Obscure has been Wizard doomed to Oblivion……(OH sorry I did say it……….. HAHH HAH HAH HAH  HO HO HO HO HO HO HOH Hahah hahahhhah )

After various odds and ends of lessons including Oceanography and Observing an Ocelot and an Osprey and making Ointment from Olives (O God now I sound like Harry B******y Potter) I went home on the Orange Bus

At Home the Dog was involved with the Occult trying to sacrifice an Octopus that have been force fed Okra in the old  tradition of offering Odin something Offbeat.  The Octopus you will be pleased to know escaped. However the dog showed me the Octopus’s large empty rectangular tank and said “ O look the large rectangular tank has turned into an Octagon HA HAHAH HAHH HAH HAH HAH HHAH HAH HAH HAahah hah hah ah ahah haah ha hahh ha hah hah ah ha haahah h      ….. .. . . ..ha hahahh haha hah hah “

OK that’s It over for today………

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The legendary JURASSIC JIGANTICIUS JOLLISCARYIUS and a Jaguar XJ12 cabriolet Automatic

I have been outside all day and it has been a beautiful day the sun shining and lovely and warm just like June. In fact I have Just got in from a long walk exploring the Woods. Or as we are calling them today, The JungleS that run next to The Fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence. 

After a great start first thing with a huge bowl of Coco pops and cream in a jug, me and the dog thought we should consult the JULES Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine (we have not used that in ages) and it said “you will meet something NEW Today in the Jungle).

So we followed The Fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence to the Junction with the Pool of JeJune where the JULES Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine had predicted we would see the NEW Thing, I even had my camera with me. So we sat and waited then me and the dog Jumped up scaring some Jays and Jackdaws who flew off in a jaunty way jabbering and jeering.  But we had seen the beast the legendary Jurassic Jiganticius Jolliscaryius to give it is Latin name although it was just a juvenile. The locals just call it Jaws. Apparently they were thought to be extinct but they have been seen if Java and Japan and are said to eat Jerboa (rats on an R day) and Japonica and are jolly partial to Jelly babies. The dog said it looked like a Jabberwocky and we estimated its length about the same as an average Jehovah’s Witness or a Jester from the reign of James the second,  or Jack Johnson (?). 

With a bit of Jiggery Pokery I got a photo (not the best photo but I was Jinxed I think), still Job done so you must make your own Judgements, I shall let you be the Jury on the Photo of the legendary Jurassic Jiganticius Jolliscaryius (Jaws)

On the journey back  home to play Jazz on a Jews Harp the dog said he saw a Jaguar But I said we might get lemmings and Porcupines in the Jungles in Britain but not Jaguars so I thought it was a Joke. However as he pointed out it was a metallic green cabriolet XJ12 automatic Jaguar. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . HA HAH HAHAH HAH HAH HAH HAH ah haha hah hah hah hahahah hahahahah hahah ahah. ……..Mum Just said IDIOT  

Ooooo By the way Happy Birthday JANE.

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The End of the Book. A small Ant and a small red button and . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It is the final day of the school holiday in Wales and the final day in my diary for year one. We have all had a long think about what we should do or say as this is an important moment in time, but in the end we are chilling out with a cup of tea. Helping others with DIY still and things like that. It is a rather perverse thing writing a diary because the more you do the less time you have to write about what you have done.

As my world is linked to yours through the mind of “Old Grumpy” known as the Ghost Writer it is even more complicated to write up the events of the day. And it is getting late again and I have stuff to do and the general things of life like putting stuff away cleaning teeth moving about clearing things away from the day folding clothes or as mum describes it throwing everything in a heap in the middle of the floor.

Anyway this is not want you want to hear is it that nice Mr Steven Spielberg is hardly likely to make the movie of the book, if as the credits slowly roll down or up the screen the last image is that of a pile of clothes being sniffed at by a huge dog muttering in Latin.

Still it could be worse it could be like one of the Lord of the Rings movies where they suddenly end with three odd looking people wondering over a hill saying PHEW THAT WAS CLOSE. Do you think there is anymore popcorn down in the foyer? Mum just said IDIOT and has told me to get on with it

You will notice that I have changed since I started (I don’t mean clothes although I have I think) it is time and getting older and getting more ambitious, and early on many of our international readers did say WHAT a lot. So I am more articulate and easier to understand now so maybe by the end of the next book I might even make sense, although that may not be a good move. I will be adding a thank you to all soon, and tomorrow I will be back in Cyberspace as normal, but readers of the book will now have to go out and buy volume two so that I can continue living a life of abject luxury and decadence OK start living a life of abject luxury and decadence, Mum said IDIOT again.

We are all now watching a small ant wonder across the patio and it appears to have found a small red button saying do not press. This sounds very familiar, ants are curious creatures so we all think he is going to press the button. The dog thinks it will all end it tears but I am not sure the ant has heard or understands the dog because it just pressed the small red button . . . . . . . . Mum just said IDIOT I think she means the ant this time … . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... AH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Joules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine, Iron Bru and Russian Vodka

The Ghost writer was in his grey office today, so he is no help tonight just a pitiful zombie whimpering on a log in the wood saying things about the continuing cycle of grey each week and the trap created by powers unknown that have created the unending process of the decedent western society we live in and that the entire world wants to live in.

 I have told him to paint his office a rather nice pink and green mottled pattern with seagulls on it, but he is not allowed it must be grey.

Me and the dog tried busking in the wood today but all we got were a few leaves from some passing squirrels and a silver key from a magpie. I am sure the silver key came from our house when the magpies tried to raid it earlier in the book (or the block buster film); maybe he got bored of it after all what would a magpie do with a grimble-spin key. Dad might be pleased to get it back he has not been able to wind the grimble-spin up for a long time and mum assumed dad had lost the key. She was quite pleased to tell the truth it can be very noisy and all that swaying about can make you feel a bit seasick particularly at night when the lights glow and the mist drifts out the top of it. I will give it back to dad a bit later (the grimble-spin key not the mist).

I have asked the Joules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine about the future what with all the house moving and other things going on and it says it is feeling very optimistic. Firstly it is ages since it had the chance to say much having been in my super cylindrical copper office/shed in at the bottom of the garden having to listen to the Grumbling Child trapped in The Pit of Doom. And secondly that things are looking very bright for the future and he thinks that everyone will be buying the book or watching the movie and saying that was rubbish I demand my money back while dad fends them off with the flame thrower and the dog and Pirate Pete eat frozen turkeys and drinks Iron Bru and Russian Vodka purchased with the royalties from the sale of the publishing rights from my diary.  He even thinks all will turn out well for the Ghost Writer who will grow organic potatoes and make really healthy Chip Butties with freshly baked crusty bread and butter straight from the cow (not sure which cow there are lots?). And appear on talk shows where mum can shout IDIOT at him as he tells a pack of lies about how he thought up the whole idea himself. 

Karen Gomm                 I've always loved the word grimble, what does it actually mean?

If you look grimble up it says little although it was a book with something of a parallel line of thought to that of certain other people the grimble-spin is an eccentric machine that achieves nothing in the most complex an inefficient way. A bit like me so for example one could call the government of the day a grimble-spin or grimble-spinners

The FBI, CIA, MI6 and the Tyrannosaurus Rex from the TV show Britains Got Talent

For various reasons best know to dad; dad thinks the FBI, CIA and maybe MI6 have homed in on my diary so he has told me to be really careful about what I say. For example he said don’t mention the Einstein Cube or the Joules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine or Pirate Pete’s still in the cellar or his new patch of plants he has with the big lamps and all the walls covered in tin foil.

So I am going to be good and not mention them. He would probably prefer me not to mention all the money he made on the big press in his workshop either although he is less worried about his workshop as he modified the life size Tyrannosaurus Rex he made me for Halloween night last year to be a guard dog.  The dog said he is a much better guard dog that a mad microprocessor controlled hydraulic Tyrannosaurus Rex that can’t even read Latin correctly or tap dance. Dad tells me that is not entirely true because it can tap dance quite well. He even entered it for that Britain’s Got Talent show on the television, but the judges all screamed and ran away, so did all the other contestants and the audience. Dad was at least hoping he might get a copy of the video but apparently the camera crew ran away screaming too.  And he said to rub salt into the wound the man at the station said the Tyrannosaurus Rex was not allowed on the train so he had to hire a van to get it home it was quite a large van because the Tyrannosaurus Rex is twenty feet tall.  Anyway I don’t think the FBI are going to go into his workshop even if the dog is a better guard dog.

Very strange weather today sun then loads of rain then loads of sun then loads of rain and so on, I know I mention the weather a lot but we do this in Britain it is a tradition people go to wild mad parties (so I’m told) and all they talk about is the weather. I have never been to a wild mad party just parties with mad wild people at them, talking about the weather.

The conspiracy of the Keepers of Time

Well what a wet start to the day it was the first proper rain in a while so all the plants are much happier. Dad says it’s the start of Autumn because the seasons are all slowly moving forward. Dad says it’s a conspiracy but the Keepers of Time who have speeded up the moon so the days are all a bit shorter so as the years pass summer turns up in February.

The dog says that can’t be right because if it was our clocks and watches would all be wrong and we would have to adjust them every now and again. That is quite interesting because I have adjusted my watch at least two or three times this year and all the wall clocks say different times anyway and the town hall clock chimes all sorts of things at some really odd times. So maybe that’s it; our increasingly early summer is not due to climate change it is the work of the Keepers of Time. I though I would ask the Joules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine about time because it knows about this sort of thing but is said I should ask mum. I asked mum about dads theories but she just said her watch was running fast and that she didn’t have time to answer things like that right now.

Even though it is Saturday and I should have had loads of time to do stuff; that has not worked out either and most of the day seemed to vanish before I did anything even though I was not actually doing nothing but all the things I did, didn’t really result in any tangible changes in anything. It is very annoying to do things all day then look back on the day and think that’s add I don’t seem to have done anything. Apparently that is quite common too. It is not only very annoying but something of a paradox, dad is blaming it on the Keepers of Time.  Mum said IDIOT again but I think dad has a point because the rain has got worse and all our watches are at different times again.

And now it is time for me to go, well I think it’s time to go only I am not sure anymore because my watch tells me I need to have breakfast and I ate that hours ago but I don’t mind eating more of them after all you cant have to much bacon, sausage, black pudding, fried bread, scrambled egg, mushrooms, baked beans, pancakes and maple syrup, French fries and hash brownies. YUMMY.

A theory of time and why supermarkets and little old ladies should never ever meet.

It has been one of those days where we have all been running about doings things and then find we have run out of time. Day says time is complex and goes at different speeds. All depending on how old you are and what you are going etc. He has had several conversations with people lately about time in the last couple of weeks on his theory.

Apparently as you get older time appears to go faster and he says the reason for this is that we all perceive time as a percentage of our age and not the actual length of time. So to someone who is one; a year equals 100% of their life to date, whereas someone who is one hundred, one year is 1% of their life so a year passes much faster to the one hundred year old person than that of the one year old. It’s like a Mayfly and a tortoise one day in the life of a Mayfly is like a whole life time and one day in the life of a tortoise is a quick walk round the bloke and a lettuce leaf. So dad is saying that not only does time change as we get older everything has its own different timescale, which in the case of humans slows down to almost stopped in the supermarket particularly at the checkouts; and vanishes almost instantaneously on holiday. He tried to make a machine once to swop those over but every time he used it he always ended up behind a queue of little old ladies in the post office who would chat to him for ages and tell him he was a very nice man while their friend sneaked in front of him in the queue. If he tried to say anything they would always say AH BUT I’M OLD, dad set fire to that machine in the end. I tried to ask the dog about time but it said TIME FOR DINNER ……… ……… YUMMY

It was yet another very hot day just like mid-summer, the Joules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine said it would be like this ages ago and it was right but of course it has also forecast the huge storm towards the end of the year. The birds are all singing outside so they are happy, I don’t think I better tell them I have eaten a chicken for dinner.

Scrabble, thirty seven pence, the new desk and not going to the beach

It was seriously warm day today just like summer the Joules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine said it would be a while ago, it said the weather would be good early on but then it also predicted a big storm later in the year so that might be scary. It certainly was very hot at school so I was unable to think, and had to tell the teachers I was suffering from heat generated brain scramble.

Unfortunately the English teacher thought I said Scrabble and we had to play Scrabble for a whole hour and a half. I was not very popular with the rest of the pupils. And I was knocked out of the competition really early, but I did win thirty seven pence by betting on the outsider to win by a nose; his last three letters were OSE.

Dad is having to move the office in the house for various reasons, with may or may not be explained as time goes by depending on stuff happening in the next few days. So today he started to build a whole new desk with shelving and legs and things like that, in fact most of the usual things you find on a desk. He wants it finished by Saturday or Sunday so he can move everything out of the old office by the start of next week. Pirate Pete is helping but Pirate Pete has carved all the legs in the shape of pirate wooden legs. I don’t think that was dads plan.

Mum and dad have said they plan to go to the beach tomorrow as it is so sunny and warm after I go to school and take everyone along, even Flipper the Wood Mouse ………………….. Well that’s NOT FAIR. They said they would take the dog etc before the schools break up for the Easter Holidays and the beach fills up with lots of noisy children. I did say if I was very quiet could I go but they said NO I had to go to school and learn interesting things . . . . .  VERY NOT FAIR.

See whats happens if you spend days in dull offices.......Blue Smoke

Dad has been working in his workshop all day with Pirate Pete, they have been making a Transflux-Monofisolter Mechanical Ion Machine all day. I don’t know exactly what that is, so I asked Pirate Pete he just said I don’t know Har Har HAr. So I asked dad but he said I don’t Know.  

They finished it a short time ago and so we all went into the garden to see them start it up, it is a very impressive machine with lots and lots of gears and levers and glass tubes full of blue gas and electrodes on the top. It needed to be plugged into the mains power and had a pump that clicked and banged once it was running, lots of the gears started to go round and round and the blue gas glowed so it looked good in the dark. Then there was lots of arcing and flashing on the top like lightning and blue smoke started to fill up the garden luckily for us the wind was blowing the smoke across the road and over the fields with the sheep in. In the end it got very thick and we could not see the sheep and the whole machine started shaking and making a bleeping noise so Pirate Pete pulled a few levers and it stopped making blue smoke but it started to spin and buried itself. It seems to have gone a long way underground and there is a huge pile of soil in the middle of our garden now. Dad and Pirate Pete were really pleased they said that they knew it did something but mum said IDIOTS. What is quite interesting is the smoke is clearing from the field over the road and the sheep are all glowing a sort of pale blue. There is a man taking pictures of them too, he looks like the local Environmental Health man who was attacked by the car dealer yesterday. I think the farmer is about to hit him with his sheep dog now.  

The Joules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy machine has said today’s  events have the appearance of a ghost writer who has spent all day in a big grey office in a big grey building and got home late and has had his brain cells wiped clean of original thoughts; a bit like 1984. Dad said he knew there must be a logical explanation why he was making a machine he only got the blue prints for in a plain brown envelope this morning.  Mercedes is in a bigger grump she says she had to spend the whole day in the garden reading Mills and Boon, luckily it was a very sunny day.

And if you’re a ghost writer in a grey office and it is the sunniest day of the year all I can say is NOT FAIR

17th Feb Almost sunny and No BRUSSEL SPROUTS

Dad got in a strop today with the internet; he had to check something in his banking only he forgot his password. He was complaining that he now has at least twenty passwords for different things and keeps getting told oooo no don’t write passwords down or use the same one.

Then when he phoned someone up to sort it out they asked him all these security questions that he cant remember the answers too either. So he then failed and was told he had to start from the start again and set everything up new. Dad didn’t like that and set fire to the computer and keyboard with the flame thrower, he has done this before. He said he hates all that plastic rubbish anyway. And he might just build a prober computer with brass knobs and glowing thermionic values and cat’s whiskers etc. He said he was going to do that once before too but built a stream powered till for Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very strange Victorian Curiosity Shop instead. Mr Beelzebub was very pleased he likes all that hissing and steam and said it keeps all the change lovely and hot, Mum and dad get 10% discount now when they buy stuff.

It was a much better day today weather wise, and not raining, so more people are out and about and doing things although according to the dog it will rain again in the next couple of days. The dog uses the old ways like watching the trees and talking to the fish, smelling rocks and eating very large bones to predict the weather. Even the Joules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine says it will not predict the weather although it did add it will be a lovely warm spring and early summer followed by a huge storm. The dog is all excited now it loves storms, I have pointed out we are going to have a nice spring and summer first.

Thursday is the day when we have veggies delivered to us from a farm shop so they are nice and fresh only last week the man hid brussel sprouts in a plain brown paper bag which everyone thought was mushrooms, only they were not. We all hate brussel sprouts including the dog so they must be bad, so the man better get it right today or he will be in trouble.