The Surprise Birthday Party, Leaping About, Fruit, Zombies and a Hot Air Balloon.

It has been a lovely day today after what was a nice day yesterday and as it happens it is predicted to be a nice day tomorrow, so we are back with a feeling of summer again after the arrival of autumn. I know this is not very exciting is it, but as I have said many many times stuff like this happens or does not happen. One thing I have noticed mind you is there are lots of berries and fruit on the trees and there is some sort of saying about . . . Much Fruit Means Many Zombies Ahead. . . .  No sorry not that one, I mean the one about Much Fruit Means a Hard Winter.  Interestingly the saying about  . . . Much Fruit Means Many Zombies Ahead. . . .  Also means it will be a hard winter for your head as the little (OK Large) critters try and eat your brains, ironically they don't like fruit.

OK back to events of the here and how and our theme this year in volume five of my popular diary (all publicity is good publicity so they say) being the Unknown meant that we went to a surprise sixtieth birthday party for Miss L which means that it was entirely unknown to her until she was faced with family and a few good friends all singing. . . Meatloaf’s Bat out of Hell. . . . .  AH no that was later on I think we all sang happy birthday and then drank and ate and danced about having a good time.  Well as you know I don't drink alcohol so was drinking orange juice, as it happens I like orange juice although it is not good for your liver. . . . You just can't win with these things at present.

I also have a bit of an issue leaping about dancing . . . sort of dancing  . . . . .Ok just leaping about but in time with the music . . . Ok not in time with music . . . .  Although I can do Air Guitar better than Mr N he is rubbish, but then I can play a guitar (sort of) which helps. Right back to the point I have dodgy feet, meaning staying upright can get tricky and to make matters worse I am not as fit as I was in the past and leaping about leads to rapid exhaustion and a less agile panting Zombie sort of dancing. Which in turn leads to folk offering you bowls of fruit because of the old saying . . . . .  Much Fruit Means Many Zombies . . . . 

Anyway it was a grand party and as I am a unsociable grumpy bloke I was rather pleased that there were a modest number of folk rather than hundreds which would have scared me into hiding in a cupboard. It is not easy to leap about in cupboards.

OOOOOoooooooooo I have just returned from being outside watching a hot air balloon attempting to avoid landing in the woods. Not a good move as the new battery pheasants have just been released and they have not worked out yet that eating hot air balloonists is not a good move. Luckily they cleared the trees and are on their way to the Castle of the Bishop. (That’s the balloon not the pheasants although in the long run it would be in their best interest).   

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A Greek Tale of Gandhi and the Men with Guns

It is Monday today and although I started to write a diary entry for yesterday it did not make it to cyberspace, well things like this happen to the best of us. Today started as a lovely sunny day but by about three in the afternoon it was like yesterday so it makes some sense to blend the two days together . . . .  Anyway to save me a little work I will sneak in what I wrote yesterday in a sort of seamless join of text so that it will be impossible too tell where one day starts and one day ends.

Its Sunday again Phew . . . . . They seem to turn up rather quickly these days, and in a traditional, going back to the point Sunday was first called Sunday it was damp, grey, cold and generally not all that great outside.  It has now gone dark too, so all in all as classic a Sunday as one could ever get in Britain in the winter.  However all is not as gloomy as it could be because Gandhi was out on the drive eating most of the day, and because the local shoot have been out shooting at Gandhi and his mates in the last few days we thought he must have been a goner, but NO.

Ok yes I have used an old drawing tonight but I am rather limited for time

I guess two things may cross your mind here, the first being I thought Gandhi was dead, has dad been doing his Frankincense (sorry that was yesterday),I mean Frankenstein experiment again. Well no he has not, not after the rumours that he had created a Zombie Mrs Thatcher I don’t think he could cope with all the stone throwing again by the Godzilla Appreciation Society who as we know are a bit left wing.

The second thing that may come into your mind if you were unaware that Gandhi had died being  . . . . WHAT? who the hell is going to shoot at Gandhi (OK us Brits did a bit once), but you see Gandhi is in fact our friendly pet Pheasant and round these parts of the rural community folk make loads of money by letting city folk shout (sorry shoot or both) all the pheasants. They are stupid birds and because they are farm reared birds sort of see humans as friendly folk that give them food, rather than a nasty bunch with guns intend on using them as target practice.  Ironically they thought much the same in India when the Brits turned up there first.

OK back to Monday, I have seen Gandhi again today he appears to have two young female admirers, I just hope this does not distract him from his bid to avoid the men with guns who were still shooting everything today, It is turning into a classic tale of the Greek Gods, our young hero using his wit and guile to avoid the giant monsters with guns who have sent two young females to lure our unsuspecting hero onto the rocks, or as they would say within range of the guns.  

OK that’s it I must go now I just hope you can untangle the two days which have been cunningly entwined in a complicated story of subterfuge (I don’t think that is like Fudge, much?) and international scandal . . . .

Oooooo I will be drumming later . . . . . (that’s Monday Evening)

One further thing if there is anyone out there thinking. . .  WHO IS GANHDI, well  he is the chap who made My Hat . . . . . . .HA HAH HAH HA HAH ha hah ah ah ha hah ah ah ha h ha ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ha hah ahah ah hahahahah ha ha hahah hah aha ha ha ha ha…..

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

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

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

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

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

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Weather, Icicles and the flight of the Pheasant

Today was dry and sunny although it was very cold, dad was pleased, he thought AH GOOD because the photovoltaic cells would finally get to generate a bit of power, it has been ages since we have been self sustaining in electricity and he is grumbling that the electricity supplier might actually want some money off us for supplying electricity.  Then about mid afternoon he realized that despite all the sun we had generated very little electricity, because half the panels were still covered in snow. He did go outside and shout at the snow but the snow just sort of lay there and completely ignored him, the Snow Zombie grunted a bit because that is something zombies sort of do and a big pile of pheasants screamed and panicked and flew off in all directions. When I say fly pheasants are not great at flying or anything else really, but they had worked out that we had a bird table and food and although they tend to dislike man because he shoots at him quite a lot they are getting a bit hungry due to snow lying on the ground now for a week so were sneaking up to the house to eat seed. That was OK until dad ran out and shouted at the snow on the roof and waved his fist at it confusing the pheasants, mum said IDIOT but I am not sure if she was referring to the pheasants or dad or the snow.

 I was rather looking forward to the icicle competition with Miss Fionaski the famous Russian Spy the other day but the weather changed slightly and all the icicles vanished, it appears that icicles are very fickle they only turn up when a whole series of metrological conditions are favourable and a slight change in any one of them and off they go. It reminds me a bit of Esmeralda in the Physics lesson she is very good and in there with the best of them when we are experimenting with explosives and diabolical acids and death rays, but as soon as say a ball point pen or a piece of paper turns up she vanishes in a cloud of confusion, actually I am being slightly artistic with the truth she reminds me a bit of those pheasants making their get away from dad although Esmeralda flies even worse than a pheasant.  AH I have just compared Esmeralda to a panicking pheasant that may not fair well at school in the morning if she reads this . . . . . . . . DAMN.  Still it could be worse I could have told you that her school uniform made her look like a penguin today HAH HAHHAH Hah hahhahah hahh ha hahhah hahh hah hahh ha . . . . . . . . . . . . DAMN I have told you now, that’s not good .. . . . . mum has said IDIOT  . . . . . . . DAMN.

Oooo I did see an icicle today by the way although it was not very big, less than five feet long….

Please note that due to persistent abuse of the anonymous comments option by spammers I have reluctantly changed the option for comments so that only followers of the blog can comment now. I hope this does not cause any problems for those of you who do leave comments. But if it does  wave things at me or throw small pebbles at my windows in the dead of night. If need be I will try another option, sorry for any inconvenience..... 

I hope all members of RATs should be OK as you all follow my blog . . . .  

I would Like to thank Miss Lily and Arlee Bird for their feedback and I hope you are all able to comment OK again, when I say all I do not include the spammers  who are abusing the anonymous comments option to ruin things for the masses. I am as I type making an Anonymous Voodoo doll out of a tin of Spam and will be sticking pins in it very soon..........  

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the first day of the Post Apocalyptic World, Pheasants and floods.

Well today is very exciting (well OK its not) as today is the first day of the Post Apocalyptic World, I really should have gone out and explored the brave new world but the truth is the weather in the UK at present is terrible. It seems rather ironic to me that the best day we have had in a long time was yesterday, I suspect the great gods in the sky have been having a bit of a jolly at our expense. However for one small group the End of the World has been today, probably well within the acceptable mathematical margin of error so will count as yesterday, yes the local shoot have been in the fields near us and have zapped loads of pheasants. Being pheasants they work to entirely different calendars than we do, and their doomsday date is based on the one predicted by the ancient Dodo. I have been told that the legend tells of a fearsome creature that will arrive with unspeakable weapons that will make load noises and fell all before them even while in flight, obviously in the case of the Dodo the flight bit does not count. These terrible creatures will then rip apart all the birds and devour them mercilessly, laughing and throwing bits of them away as if they are but bits of uninteresting rubbish. The terrible fearsome monsters apparently look just like human beings and are known to the entire bird population as human beings . . . . . . . . .AH, yes I can see their point. It might explain why the turkey next door was looking a bit depressed, in fact where has he gone? He was about a few days ago  . . . . .AH OK Christmas dinner YUM.

 In other news, there is no other news at present except that Britain is going to be flooded for Christmas and I would strongly advise the use of waterproof wrapping paper and that a wet suit might be a popular present for the man who has everything. Well he had everything until it was last seen attached to a Christmas tree heading down stream with a duck sat on the top of it laughing at people on the banks of the river with fishing nets.

mmmmmm that looks suspicious, maybe we are not entirely safe yet

Slow Broadband. B.T. And the Acme Pheasant Ned Kelly Shot Gun Protection Kit

This Broadband is not getting any faster, we are starting to feel like good old BT are pulling a fast one, I have visions of gangs of Indian call centre workers sniggering and muttering things like that will teach those British colonial ******* for shooting all the tigers just for fun. Then all those B.T. fat cats employ us all on the cheap so we can listen to the masses complaining they have no broadband. Which they only want so they can sit on their bums all day on Facebook.

Talking of shooting Tigers, the shoot were back this morning bagging the odd pheasant (when I say odd I mean one or two, not strange) Still I was at school doing metal work and mum and dad did the IKEA run again to get more bookcases. That’s five of them now so with luck that might just about do it. Dad says if we had decent broadband he would sit on his bum for the rest of the day and annoy folk on Facebook with pictures of tiger skin rugs and elephant umbrella stands. You don’t see many of them these days probably a bit non PC (as in politically correct not personal computer).

Some of the pheasants were hiding in the garden again today, so maybe they are not quite as stupid as we think. I am trying to help some of them, and I have got the metalwork class working on Acme Pheasant Ned Kelly Shotgun Protection Kits. These are very effective, as long as the pheasant does not try to fly, well let’s face it pheasants are not great at flying at the best of times. So the additional weight of a couple of pounds of steel plate makes flight impossible, and the swimming experiment was a bit of a disaster, but I don’t think pheasants float anyway, so that shouldn’t matter.

There is one small drawback to the Acme Pheasant Ned Kelly Shot Gun Protection Kit, if you hit a pheasant who is wearing one it makes one hell of a dent in the car. On the bright side the little critters can’t run out in front of you as fast, so they are safer on the road wearing it. 

General Custer and the Pheasants

One advantage of living in a classic 70’s bungalow with huge UPVC double glazed windows is the slightest bit of sun and it is well toasty. So this morning we were eating breakfast with the patio doors open. That is not bad for the end of November although if it is like that now what will it be like in the summer. Luckily for me, I like hot.

One of the Pheasants wondered into the house this morning, they are way to friendly and tame for their own good, because there is a shoot just the other side of the narrow bit of wood. I think these pheasants are cage bred birds so to put it bluntly, they are stupid. I don’t know why some folk who shot pay so much money to shot cage bred pheasants because they will run up and smile at everyone. It is because they assume all humans have loads of yummy grain and the fact someone is pointing a 12 bore at them seems not to deter them.

The one in the house at least did run off rather sharpish when it was perused by the dog with a large meat cleaver while making references to Bernard Mathews and sitting ducks. Talking of sitting ducks, well Sitting Bull at least Heavy Harry the Cat and Sooty the Cat are leaving the pheasants alone. But it is probably because they are seriously outnumbered and the dog has recently told them the story of what happened to General Custer when he was surrounded by the native Red Indians who were also covered in Pheasant feathers, (lets face it everyone has it is for pheasants).