A Catalogue of Excuses and other reasons this diary is Slightly Erratic.

Have you wondered where I have been  . . . . What do you mean NO. . . Right I am going to assume you mean YES or this whole diary entry would be futile and we don’t want that do we . . . . What do you mean YES . . . I am assuming you mean NO and have just got a bit confused. Folk often get confused reading my diary although I don’t know why.

Right here in Britain it has been hot, really hot. SO hot in fact that a chap who likes to write his diary might go delirious and forget. YES it was that hot here (well almost 35c - ish). And I have been making the workshop so was busy when I was not delirious. Then to add to this I was abducted by Aliens who were planning to do tests on me until I suggested they read my diary. They let me go then saying I was obviously a faulty model and they would find a better human to chop up (sorry experiment on). 

Then rather sadly our cat (The Grumpy One, Harry) is very poorly so he has distracted me as he's being drip fed Squirty Cream at present. That is helping, well its helping the cat he is looking slightly better today He still looks very very poorly though. Yesterday he looked like he would not make it to morning, but he loves Squirty Cream so much he will refuse to die while there is a possibility of another small dish of it for him. And he is eating some food again, and being less fussy that normal too.

I have also been patrolling the garden at night to look for wildlife and things such as Zombies, in the warm evenings. To tell the truth I have seen very little; I think the reason is that our other cat Sooty meows like a banshee at present and does enjoy a walk round the garden. His body is OK, but his brain is not and he is also totally deaf now which is why he howls so loudly I think. So a very sick cat and a deaf mad cat are also jolly good reasons why this diary is getting trickier to write by the day.

I will leave now and drink tea.  

Yet another obstacle in the path of the perfect diary.

Harry in better times

By the Way Sid the Seagull who is a Pigeon has left now I will never know what happened to him but hope he headed home. We were but ships that passed in the night (a few days). Anyway it does mean calling him Sid the Seagull was a suitable name bearing mind he/she  is/was a Pigeon. 

The F Word. The Devil and a Moorhen

Well its over and we will not mention the F Word again . . . . . NO not that F Word, but the Football F Word. Now look I have mentioned it again and it is entirely the fault of you lot, but that is it once and for all (Well until next time).

So what happened today. . . . . . . I played football. . . . .HAH AH HA HA HA HAH HA hah ah ah ha ha ha ha ha hah ah a hah ah ah ah ahha hah ah ha haha hahah ah ah ah ah aha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha . . . . . OK only kidding. No I woke up this morning to the voice of Radio Four and the Today programme; sometimes it is full of interesting snippets of information and news and sometimes it is not.  They waffled through the latest government reshuffle and the news that the folk of Gaza and Israel hate one another loads, well the powers at the top do; plus and the problems of loads of us getting old rather than dying just before we get to retire.

They then suddenly announced that the Church of England is doing away with the Devil, apparently he will no longer exist and we will just have evil instead. I am not entirely sure what it is connected with, but my old mate Napoleon Beelzebub (the Devil) will be well annoyed, you just cant go round saying he does not exist its not fair. After all he does not go round making folk be evil he just sort of smiles and prods them loads with pointy sticks when they turn up at the door in the afterlife.  As he says folk always say . . . . it was the devil he made me do it. . . . But they are lying he merely ensures they don’t have fun in the afterlife, and would argue that some folk would see him as very useful. There are some folk in the world who are simply bad and Mr Beelzebub ensures that they spent eternity NOT having a good time. OK he has nicked all the good music but that’s not his fault, God has always been a bit more Val Doonican than Ozzy Osbourne . . . .

Anyway as a sort of sign that I am entirely right when I got up and sat and ate my breakfast a Moorhen walked past the window and half an hour later I saw a Narrow-bordered Bee Hawk-moth. . . . . . . You can’t argue with that Church of England people, I think you need to give us back my old mate the devil (Napoleon Beelzebub).    

Delicious and full of Natural Goodness the all New NOCAR BAR . . . Driving Men Mad

The Ghost Writer ventured off to his place of work today, but was using our car (again) as he has Nocar . . . . When I say Nocar I am not referring to the chewy sweet substance made with the fermented legs of the nine banded armadillo and seaweed from the shores of the Ivory Coast blended with the crushed bodies of the sugar monkey. Yes I know I know they are very cute, but delicious and give Nocar its distinctive sweet flavour. 

I am referring to Nocar which is the state of exact opposite of a car.  The advantage to owning the Nocar is that it is incredibly cheap to run although admittedly it is a bit slow, but in eco terms it is difficult to find any vehicle that can equal it. Of course the great disadvantage for the Ghost Writer is the reason he is using the Nocar is because his car is sort of dead, like the Norwegian Blue and is pining for the Fjords  (sorry I mean Fiat spare part) and like the Norwegian Blue will arrive back with a big Bill  . . . . . . HAH HAHAH HAH HAH HAH AH HA HAH HAha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

Anyway the Ghost Writer was in his grey office with one other person who it turned out was not expecting to see anyone else, so it is just possible that he spent the day working away when in fact he was probably still on his Christmas Holiday. But he did say that he was able to get on and do stuff and back up the entire system, and did not have to be nice to anyone as they were not there, as he often says an empty office is a happy office.

It was also a slightly better day today something that the Ghost Writer says tends to happen when he is trapped in a grey office all day. However the forecast is not good for the weekend and it looks like its going to be good pirate weather again, HAR HAR HAR me old sea dogs…..

 Ooooo yes I have been told I am an IDIOT apparently Nocar the chewy sweet substance made with the fermented legs of the nine banded armadillo and seaweed from the shores of the Ivory coast blended with the crushed bodies of the sugar monkey is not called NOCAR. . . . It is called  NOUGAT, and apparently not everyone makes it the same way as we do, I have been told to say nothing as it may ruin sales . . . . . . . AH DAMN. 

Long arms and Geckos

We are lucky here in that life is still fairly chilled and in Christmas holiday mode, yes we are very lucky indeed what with a myriad of jolly presents and lots of food and everything going sort of to plan I am pleased to say all is well. Well I say all is well as it appears the rather interesting Steam Powered Gecko has been a bit of a pest having run about on the PC monitor for a while and has taken to eating Santa pictures. However many in the UK have been having a tricky time over Christmas with a complete lack of power so that in order to eat their Christmas dinner it needed to be wrapped in clay and cooked in a bonfire like they use to do in the old days with hedgehogs. This was in the old days when there were loads of hedgehogs and it was not regarded as bad form to eat them; things changed once the hedgehog became a cute beast in children’s books although it has not stopped their decline in numbers. Anyway to get back to the point you can’t cook a turkey in a bonfire when there is a flood, but there does seem to be a modern trend to build houses on flood plains in Britain which ruins the habit of hedgehogs and makes it impossible to cook a turkey in a bonfire (or an oven) during a flood.

The only thing useful I have done today is try old clothes on to see what can go to the charity shop, run my Mrs E in Newtown. This however has revealed that something strange is happening because I have noticed a lot of my old clothes appear to have shrunk by just sitting there in a cupboard for a long period of time. I know for sure that it is the clothes shrinking rather than me growing because of my arms; you see arms get to a certain length and then stop getting any longer, but clothes that had arms that were the right length once, now have arms that are to short. I pointed out to the others here that my arms are not growing, but everyone insisted that my arms are getting longer and I may be turning into a large ape. In fact there is a so called scientific theory that says if a man writes an infinitely number of words he eventually write the complete works of a large number of monkeys.  It also appears that arm length is directly proportional to the distance you sit from the keyboard while typing.  I have been told that one of the reasons the iphone and tablet style devices are so popular is the fact they do not have keyboards and folk believe this will avoid the risk of their arms growing in length.

I do have one question though I can’t answer and that is . . . . . If my arms are getting longer as I get older why is it getting harder to reach my feet. . . . . . This is a paradox and that is for sure…..

You will notice most of what I have written tonight is rubbish; however I am not going to let writing rubbish get in the way of completing my best selling Blockbuster Diary. 

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Tales for the Hunting Lodge and the Wild Beasts

Life bearing in mind this is the summer holiday seems to be very busy, and not good busy chasing the invisible Ibis through the undergrowth with a spear, that’s me with the spear not the undergrowth. Or climbing the North face of the DIY store again and planting the Union Jack and claiming it for Britain or even making an attempt on the main facade of Mount IKEA; which has still not been climbed without the use of modern high tech equipment such as scaffolding and ladders.

But as I was saying it is busy, what with major work on Zombie defences with Mr Chris the builder who all being well will be back tomorrow to finish off; and helping the Ghost Writer with his task of emptying his office, which I ended up doing again today . . . . . . PHEW. And then I was asked to go and forage for food in the garden with nothing but a small knife and my wits to track down large game such as wielder beast and crocodiles, or golden eagle. Anyway it appears the wildlife must have got scared off by a stranger sitting in a small box not saying much, because pickings were slim and I was forced as a last resort to hunt vegetables.  The Ghost Writer rightly says If it cant move don’t eat it and he has a fair point. Sadly however my booty for the day was a vegetarian’s delight, something a hunter of wild ferocious beasts would never tell anyone for fear of ridicule back in the hunting lodge (summerhouse) so I won’t write about that . . . . . . . AH DAMN . . . .  A reputation ruined

The Woods and the Wood Witch and the search for the mythical Rankenzomp Beast

The more practical side of today was confined to poking about in holes in the ground with pointy sticks again, I know I have done this loads lately, but I am good at it; and painting dark things white. Although the painting dark things white was harder that it might at first appear because the white paint tuned a sort of mud grey colour. I guess that is what happens when you try and paint mud white….  However this is hardly that exciting and will not help sell my manuscript to the nice Steven Spielberg, I do not wish to give him the opportunity of saying it would be like watching paint dry while he tries to hide again in exclusive restaurants, who refuse to let me in for being a scruff and having no tie…  Don’t you hate it when the doorman says “No Tie Sir so you are Knot getting in HAH HAHAHH AH HAhah hah hh h hh ah hhaha …….tie, knot HAH HAHHAHAH HA h hahh ah ha…….

Anyway in order to liven up the events of the day I went in search of mythical beasts in the woods where I saw Mr Jones stalking an Alien and the Lemming of Petrograd who were hiding in a pantomime alien costume. They told me that Mr Jones needed cheering up and so they were planning to do a re-enactment of the movie Alien even though they had never seen it, as they said, Lemmings are not allowed in to the cinema. They were dead annoyed because the usherette said they were rodents and they have not been insulted like that since the revolution and their great strike of 1921.

Hang on, this is all a distraction because just as I was wandering home one of those Wood Witches turned up saying they were going to turn me into a frog, or a pig, or a ferret, or an alien with three heads and eighteen feet and three ears, or a lamp post. Still we all know that this is what Wood Witches say to everyone, after all their Bark is worse than their Bite . . . . . . . AH HAHHAH HAH HA HAH HAH ah hah ah ah ha hahhha ha ha ha ah ha ha.

OK I’m off now, I am going to sit on a Nymphaeaceae, or as it is more commonly known lily pad  and eat flies for a while ……… HAH HAHAHh ahah hahah hahh ahah ha ha ha    

Immortality, Franciscan Monks a Steam powered, electro-mechanical person called Igor and a Rabbit

In a battle to become immortal , I have offered my blog (of my daily diary) to the British Library for posterity, I would prefer to offer them the hardback edition with the all its medieval illuminated lettering and the like, but as I am still working on volume three (that’s year three) of what is a long term project the producers of the  hardback edition with all its medieval illuminated lettering, a group of free lance Franciscan Monks living on an isolated rock in the local lake told me to go away. When I say they said go away they shouted stuff in Latin and threw seagulls at me.  However I mentioned that the very nice Steven Spielberg is a regular visitor to my diary, (well OK I regularly mention him from time to time in my diary) and this did make them reconsider things and they have implied that as long as they get to do a song and dance routine in the musical and, can have Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers autographs then they will do a quick write up, I say quick it appears it may take up to fifteen years and I have to supply my own gold leaf.

So in the meantime I have been left with leaving the blog to the nation as a record of life as it is here in the wild (OK not very wild) hills on the borders of England and Wales, a place full of dragons and monsters and Zombies and Strange old men in flat caps who drive in mysterious ways on the open highway in old 4X4’s once owned by Franciscan Monks back in the Bronze age.

I am very optimistic that they will be keen to lock my diary away in the darkest vault for ever so that it will be safe from the ravishes of being read (Hang on that sounds wrong).

It appears dad is also keen to create something that will last for posterity so he is working on Igor a Steam powered, electro-mechanical person that will be controlled by a suitable human brain and triple A batteries.  All he needs is the correct sized brain, which apparently is exactly the same size as my own one, that’s a bit of a coincidence. . . . . . AH DAMN.      

Oooooooooooooooo yes I saved a bunny from under one of the sofa’s this morning that Sotty the cat was considering having for breakfast.

Madras Fudge and Three Fish

There I was this morning listening to Radio Four as I do in order to know what events have been happening in the world overnight that may require me to hide under a table or run screaming to my nuclear bunker as I fight off Zombies and other monsters that have invaded the area under the cover of darkness. Since we moved to our present home in the quiet (very quiet) rolling hills of the English Welsh borders I have thought it would be the perfect place to invade planet Earth. What with plenty of open fields but with enough cover to avoid to much interest, and a local population who will tolerate aliens as long s they are not noisy or start messing with local events.

Hang on what was I talking about; AH yes, Radio Four and the today program. As I lay in bed thinking I might get up as all is OK in the world a news story suddenly started talking of extinction, one of those news stories that might be important after all I am not expecting to become extinct for ages yet. But it tuned out to be a fish that is due to become extinct (from Africa) and all that remained of the species are three fish in London Zoo (I think) who are all male, what rather amused me though (I know I should not be amused by demise of a fish) was that the last known female of the species had been eaten by one of the males in a breading accident. I felt I was allowed to snigger at the plight of this fish as eating your last breading partner is to put it bluntly stupid and I can imagine the other two males looking at the third one and shouting IDIOT rather a lot.

It was also the local market day today and so I have bought Marmite Fudge and Madras Fudge from the Chocolate Man (yes I explained last week he is not made of chocolate (I assume), so I now have photographic evidence of the reality of these products. Although I thought the Marmite fudge tasted OK so I plan to eat all of that at some point so as the Ghost Writer would say if you ask me nicely to try some Ya Sucks Boo . . . . . Its my Fudge and I’m not playing.  Sometimes I think I need a better Ghost Writer I an starting to get as bad as he is.

I did other things today but they were not interesting and the weather was rubbish most of the time with sudden appearances of the sun, which would then vanish in seconds. I think we have a faulty Weather machine again . . . . . . . . . DAMN.

Madras Fudge

Zombie Defence Ditches and sewage . . . . . . .YUCK

Today did not start that great weather wise, but it got better as the day progressed, it was felt therefore by the dog and dad that I should work on the Zombie Defence Ditch because it is the time of year apparently when Zombies Breed (no I didn't know that either). So there I was digging away in the bottom of the ditch when I came across a pipe attached to a large concrete tank, dad in particular seemed very pleased and told me to break through the pipe with a chisel and lump hammer, which I did. Well it was a bit of a shock because the ditch started to fill rapidly with decomposing sewage, not the ideal situation when you are standing in the ditch. Dad and the dog however did say it could be much worse and that it might have been fresh raw sewage, but they were standing a long way off and wearing masks at the time.

This is the reason my diary entry is a bit late today because I was not allowed in the house for ages and then was chained into the shower for ages too, until I smelt normal. The only good thing is no Zombie is going to get past that Zombie Defence Ditch now that is a integral part of the soak away system……. YUCK

It also appears that something strange happened last night, firstly the hedgehog was about again but then suddenly vanished, I don’t know how it did that. Then this morning two fat balls put out for the birds hanging on the bird table vanished, Either the work of the hedgehog, but then it would either need to be able to climb a post or make use of tools such as pointy sticks or zip wires. Or it was aliens which is what Mr Jones says is very likely if not a dead certainty, because aliens have little knowledge of food on Earth and might see the fat balls as a gift of friendship only to come to the conclusion that humans eat rubbish.

All this drawing pictures in a rush is terrible too but not as terrible as standing in a Zombie Defence Ditch. . . . . . . . 

It is a nice evening for Bats . . . and Aliens 

   

The Life of Pi, Tigers, Hyenas, Zebra and Pies

The rain continues here and apparently England has officially had the wettest year on record although the UK as a whole still has four and a half centimetres to go to beat the UK record. Thats roughly 2 inches if you are in America, although it is worth remembering American inches are slightly smaller than British inches. I sometimes wonder when they measure out the New York Marathon if they use British miles or American miles. OK I will return to this subject some other time as it’s complicated.

Where I was heading in all this is that Miss Fionaski is off to see a movie called ‘Life of pi’ where a boy, a tiger, a hyena and a zebra end up on a boat, well a lifeboat in rather a lot of water (OK the sea). It just goes to show the interesting parallels of life as we are surrounded by flooding and only yesterday I ate Harry Potters Owl and attached the cats to a remote control helicopter skimming them over the surface of large puddles in a re-enactment of Apocalypse Now. And of course the old story of the Owl and the Pussy Cat is famous, as they sailed across the sea living on Zebra sandwiches sold to them by a boy with a pet hyena under a Bong Tree listening to tiger rag on their I Pod. As the Ghost Writer said to me today there is nothing new under the sun,   he is right about that as I plan to eat a few Yoghurt Coated Brazil Nuts tonight and point at things in an interesting way, in particular my evening meal which is homemade  Hyena Pie….YUM.

I have just returned from eating my homemade pie and all I can say is the life of the pi was rather a short one, and as mum is a vegetarian, her pie was a beautiful pea green pie wrapped up in a five pound note (OK I made that up).

You will have noticed that the Ghost Writer was about today and that was because he had to head off to sort out a printer on a 64x BIT Windows 7 PC only the printer was just a bit too old and despite looking at tricks on the internet he failed.  That is not meant to happen to the Ghost Writer and he thinks he might have lost his touch and is getting too old to be an IT man, to reassure him we have all nodded and agreed with him and told him he is well past it.  He did manage one success however, and managed to link someone’s android tablet thing to the internet; although both him and me thought an Android was a large mechanical monster that went AAAAuuuuuuuugggghhhHHHHH a lot and threw Zebra and Tigers over tall buildings. Apparently they are not any longer; they are just a small flat thing with no buttons that you can read my diary on . . . . . . SO COOL. Anyway while I was distracted by all that Miss Issy came and opened all her Christmas presents, so Happy Christmas Miss Issy I will see you soooooooon.

  

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The Owl and the Pussy cat

Today is one of those funny days because many have had to start returning to work but those of us still on holiday are pondering what to do. I still have loads of things to eat and so I have made a start on that. For example I managed to polish off that Harry Potter Owl leg at lunch time no problem . . . . . . YUM. And I have a good variety of other things to eat including peanut brittle I have not had peanut brittle for ages it is WELL COOL as long as your teeth don’t fall out while you are eating it. 

I have not managed to get outside much lately because the weather is bad, it was raining again at one point today and more is due. The ground is incredibly boggy and although at first sight it may appear to be fine, if you attempt to stand on the grass you slowly sink into the ground and it turns to a gluttonous muddy mass resulting in rescue attempts using ropes and winches to pull you out of the muddy lawn and back onto the path .

It was a Big Owl

 

I got an interesting key ring fob thing for Christmas which is designed to bleep and flash at you if you whistle, so that if you loose it, a quick chirpy whistle will find it again (as long as it is nearby. But I can’t whistle (OK it’s not my fault I have tried) so I though AH. . . . DAMN but I have discovered that it also responds to coughs and certain people on the television and certain sudden noises and being shouted at as you tell it to shut up because you know where it is. So all in all it is WELL COOL, strangely it refuses to work with other noises even loud ones like clapping or firecrackers or cats tied to a radio controlled model helicopter in a major film re-enactment of Apocalypse Now, that will teach the cats not to snigger at humans hiding under tables on the 21^st December just in case the world ends

So that’s it; that is the days events and now it is a bit too late to add another song from the Ghost Writers musician days when good musicians would call round and tell him he was rubbish and hide his guitars. .  

How to keep warm in the cold using Rats and Wooly Jumpers

It was a very cold day today, one that nibbled about at the extremities of one’s body resulting in the addition of many layers. These many layers may work remarkably well at keeping you warm, but it is only when you see someone else wearing additional layers that you come to realise there is a fine line between the practical and madness. Yes I think we all know who we are talking about . . . . The Ghost Writer, who popped in to say its jolly damn cold outside and I have resorted to wearing several extra layers of CLOTHING? It was pointed out to him that if there was one thing he did not need to point out to us, it was the fact he was wearing extra layers. I even removed several layers of clothing for a while in order to look normal (sort of normal) but decided that looking mad and being toasty and warm, beats looking normal and freezing. Strangely no one in school commented on my appearance but looking back on it I seem to remember that all the pupils resembled woolly balls of wool and sounded very muffled.

The Ghost Writer has told me that if you wear a few large rats under all the layers they make great hot water bottles although you do need to make sure they remain well fed and that you do not make any sudden movements. They do not take kindly to being sat on…….

It is the day after the start of the End of the World, I have to admit I am not sure if it has started to end or not, certainly no one is screaming or running about flapping their arms in the air. But then that is not easy with fifteen woolly jumpers on anyway, I just hope that the world in not going to end in a giant freeze as I was hoping for a warmer End of the World, luckily I do have a larger than average collection of jumpers due to a technical error when we moved house resulting in me obtaining loads of jumpers. I will run away now as the open fire is calling me to go and throw wood and coal on it for the evening.

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Mutant Flesh Eating Zombie Rabbit Christmas gift tags

With more of an effort on making homemade things for Christmas and also as we are all having a quieter day after last night’s party. It was a good party but there was one very loud band, they were a good band, but loud. I could tell when several folk ran screaming from the town hall clutching their ears and pointing towards the upstairs of the town hall, although at first I assumed it must be aliens hiding on the roof again.

AH  . . . OK as I was saying we are having a quiet day here and making things for Christmas, so I was helping by making small gift tags in particular Mutant Flesh Eating Zombie Rabbit gift tags. Although mum did say IDIOT as it appears I was meant to be making holly and Santa gift tags, I did explain that Mutant Flesh Eating Zombie Rabbit gift tags were far more popular that ordinary gift tags and no self respecting Goff would appreciate getting a present with a smiling reindeer looking them square in the eye.

It has been yet another cold day outside and so I have not ventured out into the elements, and am maintaining a minimum number of layers of clothing I have worked out that the optimum number of layers to maintain normal temp is eight so I am wearing 32 items of clothing at present but it is not ideal when trying to cut the fiddly bits of a Mutant Flesh Eating Zombie Rabbit gift tag. I am trying to think of some good Mutant Flesh Eating Zombie Rabbit jokes to put into the Christmas crackers, and we have found a nice selection of mummified things to add as gifts, so they will liven up the school Christmas party. 

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The local Remembrance Day memorial service, a Bi-plane and The Great Escape

Today started as a lovely sunny day although it was rather frosty and so we had porridge for breakfast, this is something of a tradition when it starts to get cold, in our house (not cold in the house but outside) and so I think we can now well and truly say that we are officially in Winter.  Not sure exactly what I was doing this morning myself although I do remember dad swearing at a car battery that was meant to fit into his car after he changed the one that he was sold that turned out to be the wrong size.  Although the battery was the right size the bracket that holds it in place did not fit the new battery, why do companies keep changing stuff all the time there must be a good reason for it? Anyway after much swearing and throwing of spanners at passing pigeons it was all sorted and his car now has a new battery.

While all this was happening (I say all it was not that exciting really) there was a Bi-plane above our house that someone appeared to be joy riding in or what ever the aeronautical equivalent of joy riding is. It seems like an odd place to do it, above our house all that loop the loop and whizzing about in little circles and the like, because there was only us watching and I always thought they did stuff like that in Bi-planes at air shows with loads of people going Ooooooooo  . . . . . . .Aaaaahhhhhhhh (not AAAAAAAUUuuuuuuuuuugghggghgghghghgh). Then after a bit the Bi plane sort of flew off.

The next thing was a Sparrow Hawk flying round the house although it did not do loop the loop or any other sort of trick really and all the sparrows were hiding going AAAAAAAUUuuuuuuuuuugghggghgghghghgh (not  Ooooooooo  . . . . . . .Aaaaahhhhhhhh)

Then we had lunch

Then we went off to the local Remembrance Day memorial service at the local church, now to tell the truth we are not really church type folk but when you live in a tiny place and you are invited along, it is bad form not to go and do you bit.  It is also bad form so the dog found out to dress up as Rommel and drive round to the church in a tiger tank even if it is a life size cardboard mock-up propelled by a dog on a unicycle in a Rommel disguise. The dog was therefore locked in the kitchen with two cats watching him from cardboard boxes on stools each with a torch panning backwards and forwards to ensure he was unable to escape. Just so they did not get too bored we left a pummel horse, a baseball ball and an old motorbike in the Kitchen for the dog, and told the cats they were allowed to throw the dog in the coal cellar if he tried to get away.

When we got back and dad told the dog off after he (dad) fell down a tunnel called Tom we ate food and pointed at clouds in the sky and wondered why there were two suns setting in the sunset, that was a bit odd but I did get a picture.   

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Banksy and the Ferret in the Dark

 Yesterday I sort of wrote YA SUCKS BO we are all sunny and warm and everyone else is in the cold autumn mist, well that was a mistake because today it is cold dark and wet and has felt like mid winter all day. I can tell it has been a bad day from the solar panels on the house, yesterday they produced 15 kilowatts and today they produced a total of 950 watts, so not even one kilowatt. I think that is the worst figure so far. I will say though that overall the solar panels are jolly good they just don’t like days when it is dark even at midday.

Another not so good event today was a trip to the dentist, last time we got rained off when it rained so much it flooded the road, and although it was raining again the roads did not flood. I wonder if there is a connection between going to the dentist and rain, maybe I should stop going to the dentist then it might be permanently sunny although I guess in the end all my teeth would fall out. So is rain and teeth better than sun and no teeth, I am not sure.

At school we all sulked and shone torches at our text books because the headmaster is on an economy drive to save money, and today was too dark to read anything without a torch. I always have one handy in case the end of the world should suddenly turn up, lets face it you cant really predict these things that well unless you are the dog who says it will be 6:30 the first Friday of June next year. Esmeralda luckily has a clip on interchangeable torch attachment, so she was fine also and Freddie’s Ferret can see in the dark so was able to assist Freddie a bit, although the ferret is rubbish at maths so was of limited help. As for the rest of the class there was a lot of falling over chairs and shouts of I’M LOST AT THE BACK OF THE CLASS . . . . . . . . HELP.

The economy drive by the headmaster by the way, is so he can save enough money to clad the front of the school in a new iconic stainless steel façade in keeping with the schools new academy status, rather that low grade breeze block. With the words We love ferrets in huge letters sprayed on in red paint. Which was done by an unknown person a few months ago; it is signed Banksy but I am not sure Banksy likes ferrets much but I know someone who does.

Anyway it is well dark and it is now even 6.00pm yet so I think I will declare that Britain has officially reached Winter, and I am off to eat the second half of my rather delicious Indian takeaway from Montgomery.

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A wet quiet Sunday, but how many cows can you fit in a glider?

I think today has proved to be the first really cold, wet and generally nasty Autumn (wintery) day of this Autumn/winter and the forecast is not good for the next couple of days or so. We have all been keeping our heads down today and even the cows next door in the field are digging their winter burrows ready to hibernate until spring. Hang on that sounds a bit wrong cows do not burrow, and I sure they don’t usually have a vaulting horse in the middle of the field either. The dog seems to thing it is an elaborate escape plan and they plan to fly south for the winter like the swallows, although the cows will need to go by easy jet; I have to say I am not entirely convinced that it is all that easy for a cow to get onto easy jet even wearing a false moustache and an old Estonian school tie.  Anyway that is a distraction I am sure no one is interested in a field full of cows digging holes and trying not to look suspicious about it.

it is very wet today

 So to other news, well to tell the truth it there is not a great deal of other news because it is a classic wet cold and dark Sunday in the United Kingdom. These are the days when the human brain tries to do the same as the cows and will hide in a burrow and hibernate. So writing an interesting diary entry to tantalize that very nice Steven Spielberg’s own mind which I suspect is in a nice sunny climate next to a large swimming pool sipping champagne and nibbling warm sausage rolls is tricky to say the least.

We did see Mr Kris who has a new car, not brand new but as new as Mr Kris has ever owned because it is shiny and clean and not full of mice and rust. The thing is with cars is that once upon a time you could potter about in a rusty relic quite safely but then everyone started to drive about fast and wave their fists at you, so driving about in a rusty relic was not as safe anymore. Then the powers that be said ooooooo those rusty relics are not safe and changed the rules so they have all vanished to history. When they should have changed the rules to stop everyone driving so fast (not dad or the dog though), so that it was still safe to drive a rusty relic.   If you get rid of you faithful old car to get an environmentally friendly new one you have to drive it for fifty years to balance the environmental cost of scrapping the old one to get the new one, so environmentally it is better just to keep the old one on the road.

Now what was I saying  . . . . . . . . . . .Ah yes not a lot has happened today so I will go. I will say one thing before I go though; cows are rubbish with a spade and a pick axe at digging holes, if it is an escape plan it could be spring before they get out, I might suggest they try making a glider and that avoids the agro with easy jet too.  

How many cows can you fit in a glider?

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The Olympic Flame, Mo and a Moth

As you all know Britain, (well London, I think they have forgotten the rest of us now) has been hosting this Olympic sports thing and it appears that the British have been doing remarkably well. Even today, as we come to the end of the penultimate day the Brits are still winning a few medals. Tomorrow is the grand ending with what appears to be a few celebs, well I think they are celebs.  I suspect that the trendy thing to do will now to be seen hanging out doing a bit of sport with a medallist saying things like HAY WE LIKE TO JOG WITH MO JUST TO STAY IN TRIM.

Anyway I did my bit today; after my rather disastrous bonfire yesterday I had another go today. Now this is something I could win medals for in fact I could melt them if I wanted so I made sure that today’s fire was good, very good and that it had at least a full 15ft of flame at times, and all done with non toxic regulation garden stuff and some hedge cutting, no cheating with accelerants and plastic or cardboard. No one wants to be banned on the last full day of competition do they?

I could tell we are near the end of the Olympics because they are running out of sports, for example that modern pentathlon, WHAT? Fencing, swimming, show jumping and running and shooting…….? Yes OK but WHAT?

Then there was that 200m canoe race for one person and then pairs WHAT? How mad is that. You can imagine someone saying ooooo lets go for a canoe trip and they shot off like a motorboat but only as far as the other bank and then they say to you that was fun what’s next before you have even managed to get in a canoe.  And I’m sorry but the BMX just looks silly.  

Anyway the British have done well, and all we need to get through now is the closing ceremony without blowing it somehow, and we can send all those BBC sports reporters back into the darker recesses of obscurity telling them, job well done mate but here is your P45 and thanks….. And I can be grumpy again……….. WELL COOL and tinker in a shed with my new steam powered pole for the pole vault ready for next time…..   

I saw one of these today too, 

But he is still quite safe, and now called MO

HAHAHAHHAHAh hah ah ah hah ah ahah ha hha 

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Boris in a wardrobe and the Olympics. And the fragility of life

Me and the dog spent the day attempting to perpetrate a particularly impenetrable part of the garden using a steam powered mechanical machete and a flame thrower. It was all part of our recording nature project for the school who are interested in finding rare and fragile species of plants, insects and animals. We spent a fair bit of time battling through the undergrowth but sadly found no life of any sort. The dog thought he glimpsed something of interest, but by then he was a bit trigger happy on the flame thrower, we were both convinced we heard a little voice go YICKS but I think the dog char grilled it to well done. 

But it was a good morning and loads of fun so no harm done (sort of… ok a bit)

The big orange room is starting to take shape, when I say take shape I mean we have almost finished all the painting; it is still the same shape as it was when we started just more orange.     

I then had a very unsuccessful bonfire this afternoon, that is not like me I can usually burn stuff really well and it was a sunny dry day too so not sure why that happened. It is like being a dead certain medal winner at the Olympics and then coming last in the qualifying section… That happens to me all the time in the school sports but then that is to do with betting scams that I am best not to mention ………AH DAMN. 

Anyway I was planning to redeem the situation by adding some wood from an old wardrobe (very old, no not antique just rubbish) but Boris the Spider has set up home in it and was in a bit of a strop when I ripped the door off. I have told Boris that I will leave him be for tonight, but he can’t go round setting up home just any place me fancies, although he was being very grumpy. With luck now he has no front door he will go and find a more practical place to live. Still it may explain the lack of life in our hunt this morning, Boris the Spider has eaten it all.

Ooooooo yes sorry the Olympics, I think we got sailing medals today or was that yesterday I cant remember………. COME ON TIM. People keep saying legacy now rather than I SEE A LEG ……………. HAH HAHHAh hah ah hahh ah hah hahah hah hah hhahh hahha 

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The Olympic ban on Hamsters with straws, and a Coconut Palm

I dug up some potatoes today as the leaves are wilting a bit. OK yes I hear everyone going WHAT we don’t come here to read you have dug up potatoes and are planning to have them for tea……. Yes I know, the nice Steven Spielberg will not be impressed with gardening but it has been that sort of day, I have to admit I even repotted a Date palm and a Coconut palm. That sounds exotic but they both live in the house. The Date palm is one of the smaller ones with a maximum height of 10 feet as for the Coconut palm  well it might attempt to escape through the roof rather quickly. Coconut palms and British bungalows are slightly non compatible long term and it will not fair well outside in British weather, this according to the dog is because Coconuts are shy ………… HAH HHAHAH hah hahhah hah h hahahh ah hhah ah hh ha hah hah hahh hah hah ha a ah ha…

The palm in its new pot

I have also been cutting down some branches of trees although not the ones near the power line which I have been told really are 11,000 volts. That’s not what the dog told me when he made me cut all those other bits down next to the power lines a while back.

Although the weather has been OK today so far dry and sort of sunny without being too extreme it is Sunday, and as we know sometimes Sundays can suck the brains out of you’re head much like some aliens do or some monsters or hamsters when you are asleep. One of the reasons we don’t have a hamster anymore, after he was found sat on Mrs Jones head with a straw while she was having a little knap. It took the doctors ages to get the straw out of her ear and she says it has ruined her hearing on her left side, I never knew you could hear through your side as well as your ear until then.

I keep seeing Olympic things popping up in odd places at present, however the farmers are happy because in order to avoid copywrite infringements aliens are no longer producing crop circles as they are trying to avoid any bad press after rumours of them sucking the brains out of security trainee’s causing all sort of agro. And it also appears that just in case, the Olympic committee are banning hamsters from the Olympic Stadium, well all except the handful involved in the opening ceremony who will be frisked for straws first…..

I must go the slugs are demanding more beer…. 

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Normality, Harry Potter and the Pheasant

    

Dam today was quiet, everything at school was normal, Maths English German History Chemistry (not a single BANG), and Art. Just as they should be not a single event of any interest even the seagulls were just chilling eating the occasional chip after lunch from the remains of the mass exodus to the Chip Shop for the regulation school lunch. And the headmaster, wandering about in the playground pointing at stuff, with one of the school governors. Who had taken the headmasters advice and was wearing a full face crash helmet.    

When I say (pointing at stuff with one of the school governors) I don’t mean the headmaster was lifting the school governor up and pointing them at the particular item to be pointed at. Although with a red crash helmet on they would have made a good pointer (not the breed of dog), No the headmaster was pointing at stuff with his hands same as I do when I point at stuff although I sometimes use a stick or one of those hand held steam powered laser pointing things.  I have told dad most people have battery powered laser pointers and the steam operated one fills rooms up with steam, but I must admit the laser looks well cool in steam.

Then the school bus did not get kidnapped, it has been ages since that happened doesn’t time fly. Dam it I used that silly saying again about time and I am not going to discuss that again now (maybe another time HAH HAHAHH Hah hahahah hahah ahahah haha hah hah Haahanah). Mum said IDIOT again.  Everything was normal at home, well as normal as it normally is and everyone was pottering about.

How come Bloody Harry Potter gets a word named after him that is all nice; I am just pottering about la de da de da ho hum potter potter. I have the word robbing Me and Harry have just nicked that nice little old ladies pension HAH HAH AHHHAH HAH HHAHHHA and we scarred her cat up a tree HAHAHHAHH HHAH hah Rob rob rob…….. ……….  lovely job gov.

I think I have discussed that all before too, I am starting to think that Harry Potter and the Horse are trying to discredit my diary by messing with the plot. Still where is Harry Potter now (HAH HAH AHAHHHAH HA) a spent force destroyed by a slightly dodgy happy ending which reminds me I must watch that last movie of his sometime, it has got to be better than the one before the last one, that was rubbish.

Sorry back to today and the diary as I said nothing has happened so I well I have nothing to write about (again).

Oooooo it was grey and raining not a nice day, OK that’s it bye.   

And I saw a pheasant

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