The Bonfire, the Dancing Owls and the Arrival of Christmas?

Today was quite a good day weather wise, being sunny and dry most of the day. Although we did get a bit of a shock when we went out to get milk at Tough Harry’s Store because lurking in the corner appeared to be a group of dark skulking beasts which at first glance appeared to be Zombies. Only as my eyes adjusted to the light in what was a slightly gloomy area of tough Harry’s, it turned out to be even worse that Zombies, because they were chocolate Santa’s . . . . . WHAT it cant be Christmas already how did that happen, maybe they are Zombies in disguise that must be it, its far more logical than Christmas in September who wants Christmas in September that is confusing.

  I had a bonfire today and finally burnt all the odd bits of tree that the men with chainsaws had to remove from the power lines rather a long time ago, it was a good bonfire and I suspect is still alight. I will go and check on it a bit later when the owls stop dancing about in the trees, I really don’t know why owls dance, I can see no evolutionary reason for dancing, particularly by owls.

I also spotted a toad being grumpy today, a butterfly eating a crab-apple and a wasp drinking lemonade. And I have been informed by powers who will remain nameless to protect them from folk going BOOOOOOO HUMBUG that the Bishops Castle michaelmas fair was not so good this year, but then I was not there drumming and that makes a big difference.

Finally our old friend Mr Michael is in hospital and not well, but bearing in mind his quirky and sometimes wild life it is not surprising  . . . . L

.

The Sad End of Crop Circles, but the Arrival of the New Water Circles.

Mr Jones several times lately has been lamenting the times back in the old days when aliens could communicate with folk on Earth using crop circles; when crop circles were simple affairs with subtle messages asking if we were friendly, and did we mind if they were to come down and eat us all, well maybe not all, but certainly all the politicians. But then hoaxers started making fancy elaborate crop circles that looked all very clever but had more to do with art installations than a simple alien message, which in turn annoyed the aliens resulting in them saying they had, had enough and were going to go off to sulk. As they said, no one likes a smart arse human ruining a decent cornfield pretending they are aliens, particularly aliens.

However he cheered up this morning with the discovery of an alien Water circle on our drive, he says it has all the hallmarks of the original circles and is plainly the work of alien intelligent life.  And although it has been some time since they last communicated with mankind they say that we appear to be rubbish still at picking leaders. Well I must admit I do agree with that most of them just seem to cause trouble for us ordinary folk in the street with their mad plans of power and corruption.

Apparently the message also said that the rumour that Zombies have an aversion to Grannies almost indestructible old carpet is just not true, and that they are far keener on the retro granny look that most people realise and that I should hide that carpet pronto.

So I spent the day hiding the carpet, then later on Mr F arrived as he is spending the weekend with us so I have been chatting and am therefore a little late with the diary . . . . . Sorry about that…..

The end of Art as we know it, and too much enthusiasm for small people....

As this week is the last week of the school year before the big summer holiday which as it happens usually means it rains loads, although dad insists it will be OK as he has finally sorted the Weather Machine after having to turn it off a couple of weeks ago to tweak things. I have told dad that once he turned it off the sun came out and it has been really hot here ever since but he assures me that unless he gets it working this week it is bound to rain during the school holidays.  Which brings me back to the point I was making, today I was in the local Junior School in Monty for what was the very last art class this year with the over enthusiastic small children who as it happened we a bit frazzled and hyper. I think a combination of heat (yes it is hot) and the prospect of seven and a half weeks of holidays meant they were mentally slightly scrambled and over excited, I am never over excited myself, in fact I have mastered the skill of non excitement to that of a grand master….. I did smile a bit once but I got away with it as it was in the dark.

 When I left I was given a home-made card, well when I say home-made I mean School made card with pictures of our final work OK not the Dragonfly as that was finished tonight; and I was given two bottles of Monty Ale. I know I am the eccentric child of cyberspace and therefore tea total (I do drink a lot of tea) but it was a lovely thought and many folk are now saying that they just fancy a nice cool bottle of locally brewed beer and don’t know where to get one from. However it has been decided that we will keep the bottles of beer for Mr F on his next trip to see us…

I will be away now until Friday afternoon as we are off to the Funeral of Miss A, Mr F’s wife so it may now be Saturday before I post the next exciting instalment of my diary, Yes I know I said I don’t do excitement but of course I am very aware that all my readers are excited by my diary entries (OK that is more than 1 and less that 10) but then who really reads that Shakespeare chap.

Luckily Miss I and Mr S will be holding the fort . . . . .. I am not sure about that saying, forts are usually huge stone buildings and trying to pick one up to hold it is near on damn impossible, even chiselling out a few stones from say a tower near the draw bridge and holding them is not easy. For one thing you get shouted at loads.  

The Mortality of Man

As you all know my diary is a quirky, light hearted and often strange affair as I interpret the events of life in my own way, however today is a sad day. If you remember back to the 24thFed we went down to see dads old friend in Milton Keynes as it was his sixtieth birthday party, dad and Mr F have known each other for almost fifty years since school days. It was good to see Mr F and his wife Miss A, but three or four days after seeing them Miss A had to go to hospital. It turned out she had a brain tumour and sadly after several ups and downs she died last night in the early hours of the morning……..

It is a funny old world and if there is one thing we cant actually do it is prevent our own death at some point, all we can do is muddle along and do what we do.  It is one of the reasons I write my diary because when I eventually die . . . . . . .  I am hoping to become a very grumpy mad old bloke first and wave sticks at folk and tell bizarre tales that no one will believe and eat loads of rubbish junk food. I am not sure what the right age is to start eating loads of junk food; start too early and I will be huge and not make it to old, but if I start to late I will just get into it and then die and people will say WE TOLD HIM NOT TO EAT THAT triple cheese big mac whopper with extra fries and the deep fried Mars bar, see what happens.

Anyway as I was saying it is one of the reasons I started my diary, ‘The Mortality of Man’ I have a theory that long after I am gone folk will look at my diary and say who the hell was this mad old grumpy bloke writing strange bizarre tales that none of us believe. I would rather hope at that point to be able to look down on them from wherever and shout BOOOO, but I have a feeling it will not be allowed. 

  

  

Parties. Poo Men and Eurovision

Life is a strange thing full of ups and downs, last night there I was at a posh dimmer (sorry dinner) party of which I will write in a bit and then today I had a slight down. . . . . No not in the way you might think, you see I had popped out to do a little work on the Zombie Defence Ditch which as you know (most know) is connected to the septic tank, well no Zombie is going to climb over that lot. So I thought; OK DAD thought I should check the septic tank to ensure all was well, but I made the error of taking one step backwards and sort of fell downwards in the septic tank in a sort of YUCK way. So today I became a Poo Man, I now know why you seldom see Poo men because other folk have a habit to either running away or turning cold nose (hose) pipes on you shouting “AAAAAAUuuuuuuuuuugggggHHHHH go away it’s a monster . . .IT'S  Poo MAN” . It appears that the life of a Poo Man is not all it is cracked up to be (I can’t help but feel there is a terrible joke in that statement somewhere).

OK enough on that I will return to last night which was very good and we all had a lovely evening and it was great food, a really interesting curry that was an Indonesian favourite of the host from her days in the grand palaces of Indonesia. I did have a couple of problems one was the interesting Indonesian serving implements which involves a special technique in order not to appear to throw curry at the person sitting next to you. Luckily the person sat next to me was very good at using them but unluckily for them I was not. Then I was faced with two knifes and a spoon one side of the plate and a fork the other and a fork and a spoon at the top of the plate, a configuration of cutlery I have not seen before. But luck was on my side as the others had by now been distracted by the person next to me who was covered in curry.

What was also rather cool is the house was full of Indonesian furniture and we had to light a candle for a little God (a God of good fortune and money) whose name I can’t remember. It was a small painted god about two foot high but the host told us that is was painted in order that it could be shipped home OK without any agro as it was made of gold and shipping solid gold Gods about can cause a bit of bother with customs and the like. It still looked cool though even though it still had its paint job, done back in the streets on Indonesia.

Anyway as I said it was a great meal and we finally got home sometime around two in the morning. And I did not see Steven Spielberg; I think he might have been concerned his nice white jacket would end up covered in curry.

OOooooooooo finally it is the Eurovision Song Contest tonight so I am predicting the UK will do rubbish based on two facts; one the UK song will be terrible (I have not heard it yet so it must be), the UK has produced some really bad songs of late and then folk wonder why we come last. The second fact is the rest of Europe don’t like us so no one would vote for us even if we had a good song . . . . . Please note I can write this before it all starts because these facts are a dead certainty or my name is not Rumblestilskin. 

Spies, Pirates and Chemists in the strange twilight between cyberspace and reality

The world of diaries and cyberspace can lead to interesting things; things can happen that can have an influence on both. Take my good friend Miss Fionaski the Famous Russian Spy; we all know that she is very much a real person out there listening intently to her shortwave radio gluing micro dots onto the bottom of homing tortoises. However through the strange sub world of my diary she has found it very difficult to be a spy and has had to resort to leaping about and being a party animal in real life, because it is tricky to be a spy when as mum puts it some IDIOT keeps telling everyone about their secret plans.

Then there is my cyber-friend Captain Nessman of the High Seas, we have had many an adventure in the world of cyberspace battling sea monsters and the tally ho British fleet, but then real life leaps into place and Captain Nessman of the High Seas finds himself on a wild adventure learning Chinese in China, which is probably the best place to learn Chinese as it happens. He has many a tale to tell of huge squid and creatures that western man has never seen before which is why from time to time he still sneaks into a MacDonald’s from  time to time. 

Today the cross over between the real and surreal of cyberspace took another slightly strange twist, my diary as you know can be found both in Facebook and as a blog, and my blog friend Mr ESB a man of many talents and a chemist who often experiments with chicken sandwiches and who lives in Texas has told me that as a result of my help he has been able to sing Happy Birthday in Welsh to his friend Jesus (no not that one) who works in Mr ESB’s favourite diner back in his home town in Texas. Now that is well COOL just think without all this technology and the internet, things like this would not happen. I think what this proves is that even a modest diary of an eccentric in the rolling hills of the English Welsh borders and a few of his good friends can make the world a better place.

If you are watching the block buster movie or reading the best selling book then I will be found in a warm swimming pool with a cold drink in my hand, if you are not reading the best selling book or watching the movie all I can say is that nice Mr Steven Spielberg has made yet another film about the wrong thing (if it has horses in it again I will not be happy).

.