The Strange Tale of the Vampires Head, the Commonwealth Games and the Elephant in the Room

Yesterday saw the strange arrival of a vampire (OK a bit of a vampire), it is a strange vampires head made of stone and plainly prove that vampires must exist. Lets face it no nobody would spend loads of time making a stone head of a vampire unless they had seen one, it would be silly.

It was made by Mr M our old friend who sadly died last November and it used to sit just outside his back door to remind him that Vampires are sneaky beasts and will turn up in the middle of the night with their huge white beard, big sack and big red coat shouting Ho Ho Ho I just need to bite youR neck a bit . . . . .  No I DON'T like carrots, OK yes a Special Brew will do for now . . . .

Now I said the Strange arrival because as I said Mr M died in November last year and when we arrived home after doing good deeds again (a man can do too many good deeds) there it was sitting on the patio smiling at us. Now it was not there when we left and so it must have untold vampire powers that we have not been told about because Stone heads don’t normally just turn up on the patio smiling. I feel this will go down as a great mystery in years to come once I embellish the tale a bit more and add wailing, screams and creatures rustling in the hedge (that’s the noise not stealing sheep or cows).  

I also visited five local villages or towns yesterday so a vampires head turning up is very significant

Today I did some plastering and a bit of painting. . . . I am good at plastering. . . Well when I say good I tell folk I am good at plastering because it's one of the skills folk always go OOOOOooooo No I DON'T do that. . . only I do. People often come into the house and say O MY GOD I can see why you need to re-plaster look at the state of it . . . . . .  

Anyway that is it for news; I keep on keeping an eye out for aliens at the Commonwealth games but with no luck. I notice there is a huge alien spaceship that appears to have landed right in the middle of the games but it is not being mentioned, I assume it is what we would call the elephant in the room. . . . . That’s stupid because it’s plain to all that it’s a spaceship, I wonder if there is a link with the Stone Vampires Head. . . .That nice Mr Steven Spielberg might fancy making an Alien Vampire Sports Film full of men in kilts eating deep fried Mars bars and throwing Neeps and Tatties at the English  

The diary, the Turkey and the Christmas presents

Hello all I am here with a diary entry as it has been a few days since I told you all the news, but as it has been a few days I have forgotten most of what happened. You see this was one of the main reasons for starting this diary in the first place, and one of the reasons I write it most nights. So now I am going to have to remember sort of what has happened.

I do know that we took Miss Jane from one place to another place and one of those places was home as Mr Charlie had gone to France to do important things. Then other stuff happened like………………. It has been windy and wet, seriously windy and wet round here and some of the trellis that was put up in the summer started to lean a bit so is now secured with a couple of props. You can’t beat a bit of triangulation to stop a thing blowing over in the wind, it is rather windy yet again.

Mr P who had been in hospital for an entire year finally made it home and he gave us a ring to say he was home and everything finally worked; that is in his house not in him, as bits of Mr P do not entirely work as designed by nature, or as some would have it, the Micro God of human bits. In fact a Christmas card from Mr P arrived this morning.

I have also finished my Christmas shopping; I always have serious problems Christmas shopping because I buy things and then hide them so folk will not find them, but then forget what I have bought and where they are hidden. Or worse still entirely forget I have bought them which is fine until you find a present for someone in June wrapped in snowmen paper  with Ho Ho Ho Merry Christmas written on it . . . . And I am serious about this I have done it more than once.

I have done loads of other stuff but I can’t remember what so that will have to be that. . . . . .     OOOOOoooooo yes, just to say the Ghost Writer got his car back yesterday and it had to have a new clutch and stuff, well that sounds expensive I am glad I don’t have to pay for it . . . . . . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN apparently I do, it appears that he says it is due to excessive ghost writing due to me rambling on about stuff no one is interested in like the three headed Seagull I chased away from the pond the other day or was it a Heron. I can remember but it did have three heads, or was it three legs

Oooooo I also saw a frog the other night too

I will now end with another Christmas Poem to cheer you all up

The Christmas Turkey has dug a tunnel

To avoid its terrible Fate

That goes under the perimeter fence

And under Bernard’s Gate

But the Turkey is a greedy bird

And now a huge big Beast

And will not fit into the hole it made

So will be our Christmas Feast

YUM

HAH HAHAHHAHHAH AH HAH AHHAH AH HAHHAH AH HA ha hah ah ha ha ha ha ha ha  

   

And finally Hello Charles and Quentin at GCHQ, you have done it again chaps, made the news yet again; I notice I don’t get a mention on the BBC typical and me your friendliest snooped upon cyber-person, there is no justice. 

A Visit, a Wind, a Meal, a Glove and the Loch Ness Monster

The weather is cold, I guess I will be saying this a lot at present as winter sneaks up my legs and into my brain. Which in turn means I am not entirely paying attention to the things I should be. One good thing is I have discovered that it is possible to type almost as well in gloves as it is not wearing gloves, and in my case that really means I make loads of mistakes in both cases.

I went to see Mr P in the hospital today, I said both to Mr P and to our friend Mr M that I would pop in while Mr P was still in hospital as he only has a couple of visitors and he has now been in hospital just over a year. The local council seem to be messing him around and don’t seem capable of getting his house in a fit state for him to move into, well it has only been a year so far?

I have heard on the grape vine, another silly saying as communicating on grape vines is seriously flawed (which may be the point of the saying I guess) that it is going to be very windy through the middle of the UK that is the proper middle not the Midlands so sort of south of Edinburgh and just north of Chester. There is some talk of trees and ducks having problems and fake Santa’s may have false beards blown off resulting in traumatized small children who will grow up with a fear of the wind at Christmas parties.

Esmeralda who has featured very little in my diary lately has decided to make a Santa trap to prove once and for all whether Father Christmas is real or not, I have to say the large razor sharp steel jaws she is making in metalwork do not look entirely friendly and her plans do remind me a little of her attempt at catching the Loch Ness Monster with a harpoon gun and depth charges. Even now opinion is divided as too whether her conclusive proof  was  the monster or 23 fish suppers dropped by a passing hiker who slipped and fell into the Loch as a result of a very loud bang from high explosives going off at a depth of 500ft.

We have just returned from a lovely meal out where we also met a man with his car slightly upside down making it tricky to drive to say the least.

The Guitar and the Sunset

I am in a bit of a rush tonight I have been searching the wondrous world of cyberspace for information on Mr M’s old Guild guitar a single pick up CE 100 which seems to date from 1960 although the tail piece seems to be from an earlier time and looks classic 1956.  Old guitars to some folk are like steam trains or old motorbikes or rare books or stamps, mind you most of the folk such things appeal too are in general men and quite often men of a certain age who like to potter about with other men of the same age looking at these things and going OOOOOOOo that is a humbucking pickup from the old New York workshop made by Mr Smith or even his dad . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Or OOOOOooo look a condensing double level braking cylinder screw mechanism.

Anyway we popped up to Mr M’s house to ensure all is OK which it is or at least we think it is as far as we can tell considering there is piles of stuff and several rusting dead cars and large holes in the ground.  It would be an ideal place for a classic Zombie movie although getting a film crew and a load of Zombies up the hill would be far from easy……….

Right I must go as it is getting later than I planned to be writing my diary, but before I go I must say WOW that was some sunset tonight I went out to take a picture and there were other folk doing the same, a clear sign that it must have been jolly good, normally it is just me pointing camera’s at the sky (and pointy sticks). 

The Funeral of Mr M and the Kala Kar

Sadly it was the funeral of our old friend Mr M and despite the fact he really only had the one son who could be there as a direct family member a lot of his friends managed to make it. It was an odd sort of funeral as his son has always been convinced that Mr M was a hardened Buddhist, but he was not really and would have been happy to have a bit of everything on the grounds that would cover all the options once he arrived where ever we arrive. We then went off to the after funeral reception where we ate a bit of food chatted about Mr M and the old days and some of his mad exploits and trying to work out where he hid the gold in the garden which he did years ago to avoid tax. Although doing this while being rather merry is a bad move as it then leads to years of digging holes looking for it again but failing.

After a rush home and feeding the cats we then rushed off again to team up with Mr Charlie and Miss Jane (who were also at the funeral) for an Indian meal in Montgomery, where we discussed many things including old bird cages and the making of small cardboard birds.  The last small cardboard birds were faulty and I now have decided to start from scratch again and make a Mk2 small cardboard bird design, although I now have to make twice as many as Mr Charlie and Miss Jane wish to have one or two for their cage.  They told the chap at the Indian that I am a great artist and although I agreed and said I was I also had to point out that I was a very modest great artist so I seldom tell people, he (the chap from the Indian) then said that I was a KALA KAR which is apparently an artist in Indian so WELL COOL.

Last night the weather was very windy and we found ourselves battling along some tiny roads in the dark as we were out visiting friends for a meal last night also. I know it sounds like we are out all the time having a good time, but this is not true as we are not out that often or my diary would be really exciting which it is plainly not.  And as a result of a bit of wheeler dealing I am now the proud owner of a big posh camera, the main drawback of which is I now have to learn how to actually take a picture with it.

I was also planning to tell you more about the conversation between the shop assistants on how to stab people and what is the right type of knife to use, but it is very late and it has been a long long day…..  

This Post does not Exist . . . . . No words have been typed what so ever

Having reached 1000 blog posts the other day and then saying that this now means that I will no longer be writing a daily diary I have decided to make today the first day of not writing my diary. Of course you may have noticed that I have probably not started not writing my diary rather badly as it already has more words in it than none. I hope you understand that (it does make sense honest).

It has been an odd day not to write about as someone told me Adam Faith died today but it appears that was slightly inaccurate as he died in 2003 so they were one figure wrong. It came up in conversation because Mr M once appeared on the Six-Five Special with Adam Faith and they were both being rebellious and refused to do the silly train shuffle walk thing.

I have also cleaned some windows today and have attempted to return to some arty stuff as part of the great world master plan. I wonder what happened to all those End of the World predictions, they appear to have ended. Talking of which I will go before it looks like rather than not writing a thing people will miss interpret this as writing, it is not and no words have been typed in the typing of the diary entry that does not exist. . . . . .    

Mr M, Art and memento's, Memorabilia and the Taj Mahal

We were rather hoping that with the sad death of Mr M it may be possible to get a small memento from his estate, one of his small quirky little sculptures or one of his personal little drawings. However we have not heard from his son and the dark shadows, and have a feeling that much of the little personal things of no value have been destroyed or burnt. This often happens when people die suddenly folk see pounds signs and not the person, which is very sad. But being a resourceful chap I am now working on a master plan to create Mr M art based memorabilia using images from some of little home made cards and some of the things he made plus some old photos.

Ironically it may well be that lots of the items he had collected or made over the years; he made of lot of wooden furniture and small cupboards could end up in an auction in Montgomery where we used to live.

It was Mr S’s birthday today and so we have all been to the Indian restaurant in Montgomery for a meal, and jolly good it was too. Although Miss K did try and destroy the Taj Mahal (not the one made by Mr M out of special brew cans or the real one) 

Oooo and we have just heard back from the son of Mr M so we will see what occurs. 

You should really watch this it is rather cooooooool

The sad news of the death of Mr M . . . . . .

Mr M finally lost his battle defending himself with his pointy stick, the gods ran off with his soul just after midnight last night, I suspect they will tell the spirit of Mr M that he is not to mess about in heaven and under no circumstances is he allowed to attempt to make a two thirds scale model of the Taj Mahal out of special brew cans (again). However he was and I suspect still is a mischievous soul and will be doing something rebellious like drawing moustaches on sleeping angels or teaching cats to sing old jazz songs slightly faster than they should be sung so that they all sound like Tiny Tim.

Mr M (left) and the Ghost Writer (right) many moons ago

Interestingly the tale may continue a little while longer as dark shadows have loomed out from the far distant past and large doors appear to be closing, so that some of the things Mr M was keen to see happen will not.  However among the dark shadows that are moving about is a secret; one that I think a certain person may prefer I did not know, a secret that should it be known would bring disharmony to the dark shadows, a secret that will remain secret but which will in its own good time grow in power and eventually come to cause much conflict among the dark shadows. Much will depend on one person’s greed and desire; in fact it is all a bit like that Indiana Jones (not the alien hunter) and the Holy Grail, Anyway it is a sad day but the wheels of fate could not be changed.

Mr M was a nice chap and will be missed by his friends a lot. Although he was a suborn eccentric (unlike me) who would always say after you told him that he was more annoying than a flock of seagulls wearing balaclavas on Brighton beach trying to run off with your fish supper . . . . . . I knew you were going to say that . . . .  

1000 blog posts, Blogger and the Diary of Rob Z Tobor . . . . .PHEW

As many of you know partly because I told you all yesterday I write my diary in many places, like on the side of trains, in tunnels, carved into old oak trees, and cyberspace, and one of those cyberspace locations is a blog. There are millions of blogs in the world which is a lot and I am sure I heard or read that the average blog has something like 10 posts or the like. I may be entirely wrong about that, but it is not a high figure and you need to work away at them in order to keep them going. My blog was a little late in starting as my diary in fact started in cyberspace elsewhere, but I like blogs and as a long term way to keep my diary going it is perfect. It was started on the 15^th Feb 2011 and many things have happened since then although if you are a regular reader of my diary you will know by now things are not always as they appear and I can’t spell or type and in general forget loads of stuff and spend a lot of time defending myself against Zombies and almost communicating with Aliens.  It has also changed a bit over time which is probably all for the better, partly because the very nice Steven Spielberg is not getting any younger and my diary gets heavier by the day so his ability to pick it up and say WOW this would make a cool movie is becoming less likely. I may have to resort to using thinner paper to write it on……..

OK yes to get straight to the point today is a special day for my blog as this is post one thousand, yes the 1000^th blog post and one of the first goals I set myself back in the early days. I am rather pleased I have reached it because I said once I did, I would stop posting my diary on a daily basis as it hard work and a little difficult to always find the time to do it,  I am after all only Super Human with X ray eyes and the power to leap over speeding cats.

Since I started the blog the pageview counter tells me I have reached just over 72,000 views which is an average of 7 views per post of which at least six and three quarters are spam auto robots. So I wish to thank my reader and say next time you eat a Jammie Dodger or Custard Cream or poke at the iphone with a pointy stick, attempt to stop a small child taking over the world, or paws for thought or are even quietly writing away at your own blog why not pause for a moment and say that blog is rubbish he’s an IDIOT.

If you are new to blogging and all keen and thinking OOOOooooooo I will have loads of followers and all will be hunky dory, that can happen but you will have to work at it much like most things in life really which as we all know is a bit of a nuisance, no one likes work.

Mr M by the way is still fighting off the gods, I think if he had a decent liver he would live to be at least 110 or more, sadly though he really cant have long until he goes off to see his maker and have a jolly good complain about being given a faulty part and will demand another go, but with more sparkly bits.

Birthdays and other things

It has been a sunny day and although now dark the sky is still clear and the stars and half a moon are up in the night sky, I suspect someone has pinched the other half.  I noticed that India sent a rocket to Mars the other day (I cant remember if I mentioned it or not) and I have seen various comments floating about in cyberspace saying that the Indian Mars Mission is remarkably cheap in comparison to previous ones. It made me think that maybe what we need is some sort of competition like the one the Wright brothers won when they flew their helicopter over the Statue of Liberty in 1907.  We need some sort of competition to make a rocket to go to the moon, say for less that price of the average car or even  made out of an average car.

Earlier today we were at a surprise birthday party for Mr D who was 40, it was a good party and everyone had a great time and loads of good food. We left a bit early because we needed to go and see Mr M who continues to battle away poking his imaginary pointy stick at the gods to fend them off a little longer.  However since I started writing my diary many odd little coincidences have happened and I suspect that tomorrow may see yet another one. As many of you know my diary has several locations in cyberspace including my blog which is a bit like Captain Kirks Ships log on the Starship Enterprise and tomorrow’s blog post will be the 1000^th one. In blog terms this is quite an achievement (well I think so), but I can’t help but think this is going to coincide with Mr M finally loosing his battle with the gods.

If anyone is wondering about my picture tonight it is a long story but I now have to master drawing President Putin. Most of you will think WHAT but someone will not and he knows who he is. . . . . . .   

Star Wars, Teeth, Heaven, and Mr M

Today is a quiet day, well sort of quiet, we have been in to see Mr M and he is still battling away with gritted teeth, well they have removed his teeth which I suspect he is not entirely happy with.  If you think about it over the last couple of thousand years or so it is quite common for folk to loose their teeth. And I don’t mean as in put them down on the seat in the bus and then the next thing you know is eating a Gingernut in Marks and Sparks and thinking DAMN.  Yes OK that is also surprisingly common too, but I am referring to the real teeth sort of going bad and falling out or even pulled out.

Then the thought occurred to me that assuming we all go off to some sort of heaven somewhere and most religions have a heaven of some sort somewhere, which will turn out to be the same one for everyone, but with a lot of entrances no doubt with escalators bringing folk up from all over the place. A bit like supermarkets who also have escalators getting you up into them but then make you walk down a load of stairs to get out again, although I am not certain that heaven will have stairs because a lot of folk are fairly elderly and frail.  Hang on I got distracted from the point, I was saying about teeth and the point I was going to make is a rather large number of folk arriving in heaven will have no teeth. Since this is a rather spiritual place I suspect there are no dentists so I am now left with the vision of a host (or is it multitude) of angels looking down on folk with no teeth spending eternity eating soft food. Or like the person who left their teeth on the bus by mistake having to dunk their Gingernuts in their mug of tea, I rather like dunking Gingernuts in my tea even if I do still have teeth. 

We hope to go in and visit Mr M later although I better not tell him that angels probably don’t have any teeth so don’t tell them any jokes and make them laugh.  And like yesterday my drawings are getting even more unrelated to events, maybe I am in two different dimensions at present and the me in the other dimension is communicating using pictures in the same ways as tables sometimes knock once for yes and twice for no………

Ooooo how come everyone wants to be in the new Star Wars 7 or what ever, and are forming huge queues, when it is plainly clear that what they need is an eccentric child of cyberspace….

May the Norse be with you  . . . .. . . . .see its easy . . . .AH DAMN. 

Storms, Books, Old Masters and a Morris Minor

Mr M continues to get weaker and the nurses suspect he has less than twenty four hours left to live, so it is all a little sad, but he had a jolly good run. And although he has struggled with one thing and another the last couple of years, he has done loads of things and been to loads of places in his lifetime. We did not stay too long today as his son is stopping at the hospital and other folk are popping in to see him. I have taken to drawing pictures of stuff while I am there now as Mr M was amused by them when he could see what I was up too; he was rather a good artist himself and once painted a tiny Micro Morris Minor on an old master so well that no one has ever noticed.  He always used to think of John Constable saying to the young Morris Minor driver  . . . . . HELLO sonny would you mind blowing into this Goats bladder.

I noticed on the news first thing that a huge storm has hit the Philippines with winds up to 199 miles an hour although as yet there is little news of how much destruction it has caused, but it does go to show that the big storm that the BBC were talking about that attacked the South coast of Britain was in reality merely a flesh wound. One of the perks of living in the UK is our weather may be wet, windy, cold, and sometimes a bit warm, but mainly not with grey skies and the odd bit of snow and more rain and even more rain; however our storms are fairly tame compared to other places and we tend not to get seriously extreme weather. It is strange then that I reckon us Brits complain about the weather more than anyone else, maybe knowing it can’t come back and bite us quite so badly means we can complain more.  It is like poking a kitten and a Lion with a pointy stick, OK the one is just not nice but the other is extremely silly or so I was told by the Zoo Keeper.

You may look at my little drawing (doodle) tonight and think WHAT? But I tend not to think too much about what I draw while visiting Mr M, so it may appear a little unrelated. If (as I have said many times now) you are reading the cheap paperback Diary of Rob Z Tobor bought at Kings Cross station in the three for a pound bargain basket, you will not get to see my drawings, so best to buy the illuminated limited edition with the gold leaf embossed cover sold for a modest one thousand five hundred and twenty three pounds and fifteen pence plus postage.  

Mr M, Pointy Sticks and the art of remaining still.

It has been a wet cold day and time is all a bit of a blur at present due to visiting Mr M, our old friend. However it is important to visit Mr M as he is sort of on limited time even if he is doing a good job of hanging on in there and sort of poking at the gods with a pointy stick, I suspect that the gods may at some stage when he goes to see them mutter about pointy sticks, and confiscate any he may take with him. I am not good with religion in general but don’t think any of the main stream religions of any country deal with pointy sticks in any great detail, I think at sometime I will need to draw  Pointstickius the Micro God of Pointy Sticks. Anyway we will be off to see Mr M shortly so I am typing super fast to finish my diary entry or at least as much as I can which is why I suspect it may make no sense what so ever.

The Ghost Writer has been rather busy as he had to go to his grey office today and do things although he did say that by hiding in a dark corner and remaining very still he did manage to get through the day without too many problems. He says the art of remaining still in a dark space in the office is a skill most people need to survive work and yet no one ever teaches it at school anymore.  In the old days it was taught subtlety in the playground to children and was called Hide and Seek rather than Work Avoidance Skills or WAS after the standard answer to the question from the boss. . . . . . . Where have you been . . . . .  where we say in a slightly panicky way I was, was, was mmmmmmmmmmm posting an Armadilo to the design department.

OK we have returned from Mr M, he looked a little better than last night which was good but alas it does not mean he is getting better just that he is still comfortable and the old brain cells are still in working order.  As I said yesterday (I think) it is a funny old world and I must say there are times when you feel that if you could poke someone with a pointy stick (obviously not Mr M) it might just help a bit. 

The true History of Guy Fawkes and other things

Today in the UK it is Guy Fawkes Night when loads of folk have bonfires, set off fireworks and eat toffee apples and wave sparklers about. However folk forget about why all this started back in 1605 when trying to escape from a large group of Zombies Guy Fawkes leapt into the cellar of the House of Commons. His train of thought (yes another saying that led to the saying, he has fallen off the rails) was that no Zombie with any sense of taste would be stupid enough to want to eat the brains of a politician. However Zombies cant read so followed him, so thinking quickly he happened upon several large casks of gunpowder and thought to himself . . . . .I know I will blow them up.

Unfortunately as he was running about avoiding Zombies and trying to set fire to the fuse for the gunpowder a large group of politicians arrived in the cellar to see what all the noise was about.  Zombies hate politicians they taste terrible so they ran off and hid leaving poor old Guy Fawkes standing on a large pile of explosives with a box of matches and as no one likes politicians they sort of got the wrong idea about him thinking he was trying to blow them up. 

Of course poor old Guy was hung and it was only afterwards that it was discovered that he was trying to blow up Zombies, so feeling a bit guilty and knowing that no one liked them anyway the politicians thought it best to celebrate him with a jolly uplifting event with bonfires where folk could burn a Zombie on it. Then after several accidents where the Zombie escaped and ate small children it was decided to burn an effigy of a Zombie instead.

We will be heading off to see Mr M again soon but have discovered, thanks to Miss Fionaski the Famous Russian Spy that it will be possible for him to have a Buddhist funeral service locally which is something he would like, so we will be passing on the information to his son later; although it is on microfilm and in code . . . . . . AH DAMN.

Mr M and fields of mud

I did not get to write my diary entry last night as Mr M has got weaker and has been given only a couple of days to live, so we headed off to see him and collect his son who had spent the day travelling up on trains from London. So we had to battle up the track to Mr M’s house in the dark and rain, but the trusty car made it again, although I am not sure that the trusty car is entirely happy about going to Mr M’s house.  We will be heading off to see Mr M again a bit later on, so we are slightly in limbo waiting for some news and making a few phone calls.

At present it is rather muddy outside so it is difficult to do anything such as poke about in holes with pointy sticks as the holes are full of water and/or mud. The ground is also far too muddy to chase Zombies about and wave pointy sticks at them, particularly as I do not really possess suitable mud fairing footwear to run about in mud.  I am told that the hospital would not entirely be happy if I turn up to see Mr M covered in mud and water with a pointy stick with bits of Zombie hanging off it and they might make me wait outside.

I have also got my White Falcon out of its case (it is not a falcon but a guitar) as it is some time since it has been out of its case and guitars do like to see some daylight and get a chance to stretch their legs (sorry pegs or is it strings). It is entirely the wrong guitar to take into a muddy garden too as it is sort of the wrong colour and as near as damn it the diametrical opposite of mud.

I may return later depending on events and time.

Mud, trucks, Curry and Corrugated Steel.

It is getting late; we sat down to eat a takeaway Indian curry from the rather good Indian restaurant in Montgomery some time ago and then chilled (as in relax not get cold), after a busy day.  It was a bit of a shock first thing this morning as we had to get up earlyish and head off to Mr M’s house to help move beds and shift corrugated tin sheeting and wood, we teamed up with Mr S and Mrs E (formally Miss I) who had been given a load of corrugated tin sheeting and wood by Mr M who is poorly in hospital. All sort of went well until it was time for Mr S and Mrs E to head off which involved turning a small truck round to get it back down his very dodgy track, and it sort of got stuck in the mud. It is very very muddy at Mr M’s house so this was not ideal and despite using planks and the like the truck was well stuck, so we had to resort using our trusty car to help without getting the car stuck also. This proved to be successful although we were all a bit done in afterwards and Mr S and Mrs E had to then whiz off to unload and return the truck to its home.

We then sorted a few things in Mr M’s house as his son is due to arrive for a couple of days, up from the great metropolis tomorrow.  And then we went off to see Mr M although he was not all that good today and had only eaten half a dried scone all day.  We were not with him too long as other visitors arrived so we returned home we were definitely flagging by then (that’s getting tired not waving flags)

It has now got very windy and wet which was what was meant to happen on the day of the great storm but did not, these things tend to happen on the English Welsh borders all the time stuff happens down south and then many moons later it turns up here. It is rumoured that we are one of the few parts of the world left where our phones are still connected to walls with wires and we heat our houses with sheep’s legs (sorry I mean logs).

The Ghost Writer also found something he made twenty years ago that he cant remember making although it is plainly clear he made it because he put his name on it, although he will admit he cant remember what he was called twenty years ago, but he thinks it was the same as he is called now, well that’s not very nice………..

I hope this makes sense my brain is not entirely working 100% due to a busy day.   

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 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…..

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 . . . . . 

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