Dr Gonzo breaks out the Crunk Juce

Straight out of the hat, there was a Mistake. The online warehouse from which Bud had purchased his New Year's Eve PuddleParty silly costume had sent him the wrong one. Instead of All-in-one Chicken Suit (adult), they had carefully sent Christmas Turkey (boysgirls). It fits me fine and I may well wear it to the next party. This, combined with the possibly inadvisable policy of not opening the package until the morning of the party, had left him in something of a bind so we hopped on a bus (still free for those of us who are small enough to pass for 4) and high-tailed it to Baffins Pond, where I fed some pigeons.  It was supposed to be ducks, everyone knows about feeding the ducks, and we did indeed see ducks, but mostly it was pigeons, a swan bigger than me and 2 very fat'n'eager geese that took the bread right out of my hand as I reversed away from the clucking flock. Checking that I was still in posession of said hand, we got him a replacement suit at only twice the price of the original, but at least it was also twice the size. We bussed back and stopped off at SwingPark to have a go on the hanging basket. Swinging with me today was Willow, classmate of mine, birthday girl (7 today) and non-stop talker.

She rabbited on, screamed, predicted vomit, and generally wittered on to the embarrassment of her mother and my general disbelief. I said she was crazy. Bud said that was because she was female. I have much to learn.

We were dressed and ready for the short walk to Erin's by 6pm. Then we waited patiently for an hour and a half for Jof to put on her extensive costumery. She looked very frightening and I demanded that she come nowhere near me with those nails.

 When we got there we checked our weapons at the door: yes, we all had weapons so attacked each other and any passing adult unmercifully. JoniBobsDad retaliated with a fart to Ben's face.

Erin's bedroom had been turned into a den with tents and drapes etc: entry to the facility was via a cupboard so we were protected against adult invasion. There were several bales of pink foam from Bud's work so we scattered them and made a padded den. We found we could also jump off cupboards etc onto the foam and we could not die. This was great until I overshot on the foamy bounce and skinned my nose on her bedroom door: Ben did likewise and clanged his forehead. That's when we were told to stop.

Later there was excellent food and then we trooped into the front room where we were forced to watch a video/slideshow of ourselves shot by a secret cameraman (from Nero to Hero) over the last couple of years. It was fun seeing our little selves (some of us were 4, practically still in nappies) but we got bored after 20 minutes and wandered off, leaving the rest to hoot and laugh at me fighting Ben in the bath. As usual, Ben started to strip off while watching the DVD, must be something he's picked up from his parents.

Even later we all got awards with medals and Mr Men books and sheets of stickers for being great people, some kind of lifetime achievement prize for general grooviness.

Then there were fireworks and we all went onto the pavement to mill about a while. Then we did even more foamy grotto work and had a film but in the end we were all falling asleep, and the kids weren't going much better. After all, it was already tomorrow.

I caught the beer taxi home (Bud's shoulders) and got to bed for around 2am, but snyrtles to everything, I'm 6 now so can get in when I like.

Abstinence makes the arm grow stronger

Victorious yet again at Ludo, this time: the others just haven't got that killer instinct and joy in the demise of others. On a promise from the Bens to take me to see Happy Feet 2 so once we've finally ditched Nanna at the train station I'll leave directly.Saw agent Nanna off at the station dead on time, into the guard's carriage for safe-keeping. Directly outside, Agent Ben's handlers were at the rendezvous to spirit me away for the next mission and we vanished into the night, giving Interpol the slip. Meanwhile, the safe house was cleaned and swept for bugs.

The film was excellent and immediately afterwards I danced down the aisle followed by Ben and several extras (unpaid). He came back to mine to play with my new train and I discovered that Andrew, Louise and Kiera had visited and had left me a 3-in-1 lego motorbike. Bud set about building it while I tried to combine wooden track with the lego one. The wooden bridges were too low to allow the mega-train to pass unhindered so we abandoned the idea as incompatible. Shame, but there you go. We will start on a lego bridge (troubled waters, here we come). Then, just when you thought we could relax, Jof has to go back to work tomorrow and the costumes are incomplete. Sigh.....

The Day of Reckoning (6th Day)

Ben Dover... this won't hurt a bit

Up early but not as early as Nanna. After jam on toast it was time for the great counting session. I tore open all my birthday cards (and 3 more giant vetinary syringes for bathtime squirting fun) and hey presto, my total fund for the great lego splurge was ... £140! This means I can get the train track, a decent base square for tower building and some considerable leftovers.

Blind Uncle Len gave me £1500 worth of bonds again so I'm set for life. It's not so different being 6 but I'm working on it.

Ben came round to celebrate with me and we played balloon attack robots. He brought me a lego monster with extra fangs and claws, I built him rapido and hung him off a bridge, as you do. Then he took 2 fossils with the promise of finding me some better ones in return in the summer. Measuring day was a success and I have indeed grown a bit in the last 3 months. Then he went for a 10 mile run in the rain while I took Nanna to lunch in Knight and Lee. Right outside the cafe is the lego wall and I selected the desired infra-red remote controlled electric train, a base-board for towers, a yellow digger, level crossing and some spare track. Once we were all gathered together, the building began. After only 3 bottie-breaking hours, the set was complete and we switched it on. Then we nipped out to buy some more ruinously expensive batteries and switched it on again. I'm sure there were instructions somewhere but I pressed all the buttons at once and exploded into space.

7th Day Benevolent Candles (Scottish Rite)

I was so excited at the mere thought of Nanna arriving that I got up at 9am. This didn't last so I legoed and watched TV until it was time to pick her up. It wasn't long before we'd roped her in to playing Monopoly in lieu of Jof: she inherited a couple of decent property chains with houses but managed to snatch ignominy from the jaws of potential and capitulated early, having eschewed house purchase for the far less advisable course of buying Park Lane.

After lunch they wanted to cook without my help so I accompanied Bud to his work where we picked up tranche 1 of 2 of the foam he'd asked his workmates to keep for him. There was loads and we'll need to make another trip but it'll be worth it to make the padded room at last at Erin's party next week. While piling it all up for neatness I used it as a throne: fear me and bow down, my subjects.
In the afternoon I played ludo and snakes + ladders with Jof and Nanna but didn't win anything. It was very unfair so had a strop in a corner. Bud rescued the situation with a valiant yet doomed attempt to get more money than me in the unfinished game of Monopoly: I gradually stripped him of all his properties and then charged him (with glee) £1025 for visiting Piccadilly. He died and I was pronounced victor in only my second game.

Life as a Faun-again Pagan

Up for 10 as usual. This holiday will never end and the days of going to school are over.

We needed to do a bit of tidying up before Nanna arrives tomorrow so started by separating off the cardboard for burning and the bottles for banking. This is when you get distracted by the Housework Randomizer Theory (see details here ) and we ended up emptying the conservatory, washing the walls, golf balls, plastics recycling bin, hoovering etc etc. All this so that Nanna cannot see the domestic squalor of our daily existence.

Due to wetness and soapitude, had to get dressed again only an hour after managing it for the first time.

As he was so lucky at Monopoly last night, Bud bought some lottery tickets with the £5 note and the 2 x £2 coins he found last week. He said I can have a share of any winnings but with reductio ad absurdum, dipso facto and habeas porpoise (inter alia) I'll owe him 27 quid pro quo and 50 pee.

Later there was lego - I did actual lego, he did magnetlego with his micro-magnets.

When Jof got back from sales-plundering, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, thanks very much, and I'd already set out all the money and the playing pieces and the cards. It started with the usual purchasing frenzy, I turned down Park Lane this time, and gradually amassed all the stations (this is something JofsDad always went on about) and within meedle of no time had even learned the finer points of the game

1. Take peoples' money in a polite fashion. Always remember to say "Thanks for the £200, Mr Baldy, ha ha"
2. Watch the movements of your opponents carefully. And then say "Yah hah, Poo-brain, enjoy Stupid Tax, Mr Stupid"
3. Tell your opponents what you think of them by slowly lifting one buttock and emitting a long, drawn-out squeaker while pulling a mischievous face. Then quietly place another house on Piccaddilly (£850) while they're not looking
4. When people are scrabbling to get change together to pay you rent, hold out one unwashed hand right under their noses while cackling and saying "Hurry up, gimme money, where's my money".

Of course I have also worked out that reality is outside GameSpace so I'm untouchable IRL.

Sorry, I'm a little hard of herring

Up for 1010, straight into nutter jumping-on-your-head mode. Slowly we reasserted our right to rejoin the human race and were ready to leave the house noonish.

The JBs invited us over to the park for bicycling so we did that, and took a football. We all then played a decent game for an hour or so until lunchtime, a very enjoyable bit of fresh air. We changed sides and directions a few times and Johnny spent a lot of time on the floor showing off his new sliding tackle but in the end the scores were very close because we'd lost count.

In the afternoon we lazed as usual but then heard that Elizabeth McPuddle had enjoyed a game of monopoly. We tried it and did very well. It's excellent reading and maths practice and will prepare me for the vicious revenge and treachery of life.
I died first because of bad luck landing on the right things in the initial purchasing frenzy. I chose to keep all my money upside down in one messy pile so others wouldn't know how much I had but then, neither did I. My plan of buying Park Lane straight away backfired a bit, Jof paid taxes every circuit and then when Bud had 3 houses on the green ones we were facing a £900 bill every time and soon copped it. He was declared Econ-O-Miser and we decamped to rub our stiff botties better.

Happy Saturnalia!

There were 2 stockings of presents attached to my bed this morning - well, I say attached, but my bedknobs are so feel-the-thickness that the hanging loop won't go round. Woke at 1025 to riffle through the stockinged goodies.

I didn't bother to get dressed for the great present shareout so sorted out the tree presents in pyjamas. I got the most as is deserved and as there were at least 3 lego items in there I just got on with that. At about 3 we thought we ought to get dressed and go out on the new scooter, so we ventured forth into the deserted world and I got to go on the hanging basket in swingpark as there were only 3 humans there.

Joy to all and may all your christmases be great.

Then, gradually, we did the usual family thing of sitting around waiting for the 1 real meal of the day. Jof made a massive turkey delight of many different dishes (pity the washer-up man) and I had seconds of all the porgiest bits - extra pigs-in-blankets and extra meat'n'gravy and extra roast potatoes and then extra choccie biccies. As usual, I roused Bud from the afternoon film to make the table football game and we made a monster-on-a-stick from the making-it book and then it was bath fizzer night with all the favourites. Jof was playing bookworm (the word-making game he brought back from work) so I used that as yet another excuse to stay up later. Bedtime was approx 1100 so let's not get up until Tuesday. This is all training for the Puddle New Year Party at Erins...

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all was beerily quiet.....

Dull and overcast, but who cares! Lazy day of train track, shopping and TV. Then the Pops invited us over for drinkies....

It was only supposed to be a quick visit for a mince pie and a sherry.

Doggie Bondage

But then we got supper, they got supper, we played doggies and card games and running up and down and bondage and everything, by the time we realised Pops had little mini-bags under her eyes it was 1030 so we scooted off so Santa could make his deliveries. Jof and PopsMum got very serious playing Top Trumps, I wowed the girls with my "1001 things to do with a poinsettia leaf" game and Bud brought round one of the dusty bottles from GrandMa's pantry that time forgot, we watched films and barked a lot.

Ideal christmas eve, the giant dragon'e egg bath fizzer I don't know about will be held over until tomorrow.

Prehistoric Mud Pie

Post #500!
Actually got up early to get to the coast for low tide. For some time now I have wanted to go fossil hunting or perform my own archaeological dig: 2 things I mix up. We had identified 'Golden Cap' as a good place for my first expedition and I was ready with my commando jacket and boots. Seatown, on west Dorset's Jurassic coast, is a tiny place down a single track lane. The population soars in the summer months when the caravan park reopens or when clifftop walkers hike through. It suggests you don't visit in the winter or take kids, so I didn't take any kids and we pretended it was summer. But today we were the only car in the car park. We loaded up and set off along the beach. We were the only people on the beach. The foggy misty rain we'd driven through magically cleared for us, as arranged.

It was quite a long way but as the cliff gradually increased in height we started to see things in the wall of mud. I used my special fossil-hunting hammer to retrieve the first which was a belemnite - a pointy shell thing we called pocket rockets. On the shore we found or dug out many more of these and fragments of ammonites. Loads of them have been turned into nodules of iron pyrites so groovy but heavy for Bud's magic bag and the 2 ice cream tubs acting as booty chests.

After a couple of hours we made our way back over the muddy cliff landslips as we didn't want to be cut off by the tide. The grillion year-old mud was very thick, glutinous and sucky and we both fell over. I went down a few times and got liberally daubed in 180 million years of gucky gloop so as you can see in the picture, I gradually became as one with the cliff and you can only see my face, which was only lightly silted. The trudge back along the gravelly foreshore was lengthy and onerous and I moobled and rimbled all the way back saying I never wanted to go fossil hunting again, but really I had a great time and it was only the superhuman effort of walking over 1/2 a mile of gravel in boots that had tripled in weight due to sticky mud, and the force 95 gale. We washed repeatedly in the public toilets but we just knew that during the car-picnic we'd planned for the return journey we'd get our recommended daily allowance of vitamin fossil-mud.

After a couple of hours warming up in the car we got home, and, once the bags had been emptied, we cleaned up our petrified prizes for Jof to wonder at. OK so we'll win no prizes, all the belemnites are broken, but it's my first go and we got loads. Perhaps one day I could be a fossil salesman - it's gotta be worth a trilobite.

Whisky river drifter

 Thursday. Bud is 42 today. Nobody said Happy Birthday all day.

After breakfast we wondered why GDad had a bad tummy. Looking through the fridge, we found eggs BestBeforeEnd 13 Dec, 9 July and ‘unmarked’ ie a present from someone in the village. The crème not-so-Fraiche 2 Dec, pork scraps (green) and pasta with 3 types of mould left over from when GMa was last here 2 weeks ago. The lasagne I had last night was of the same vintage, so maybe the moulds were penicillium not poison-ium. Most of the salad items were eat by last month, only 2 of the 8 unopened packs of butter were still in date and several of the jams were only 6-18 months out. The birds enjoyed the suet (Jan 09) and sadly the compost heap got the opened jars of sauces, jams, pastes etc in a range of ages 5-12 years past due date. GMa has always had a siege mentality and we could indeed have sustained a small army for a month as long as that army was present in about 2005.

We will help somewhat by taking away a lot of what remains, the tins are rusty but we have hopes for their contents.

Broke up the morning by climbing the church tower again. We’re now convinced there are 70 steps to the top: I tried to play the organ but they wouldn’t show me where the on switch was.

When we got to the hospital (Bud drove this time as we couldn’t trust GDad’s driving any more), we found the ward had been closed due to a Clostridium difficile outbreak. Symptoms include vomiting and diarrhoea: wonder if that’s what GDad had. But it meant that he and I could not go in at all so we went to the café while Bud sat with GMa. I played bookworm on the laptop and read Mr Men books while Bud listened to chirruping woman (“Tracey, where are you? Avgav? I’m in pain”) and the 2 wandering patients … well, wandered around. It is not a time of joy but most of this has been kept from me.

When GMa needed her sleep we left and returned home. I completed the December section of my New Bike Project (I have monthly homework from GDad which is coursework points towards a new bike with bigger wheels and gears and everything) with him and may indeed start on January.

Kissing in the wind

Even demi-gods deserve time off. So I am visiting Grandma and Grandad to see how they are. I will describe my visit in detail upon my return.

Arrived at Grandad’s right on time and added all the food we’d taken with us to his already bursting fridge. We visited Grandma on the 9^th floor. She was very slow and got sad when she couldn’t hug me.

One of the nurses tried to explain to Grandad about tumble drying and so forth. In the ward, the old lady opposite quacks, hootles, chirrups and calls for the nurse every 2 ½ minutes, day and night. The old lady in the corner sits primly in her high chair looking genially around the room, upright and smart. But there is Nobody Home. The one in the next bed is always on oxygen but never wakes up. The one diagonally opposite died last night but her name remains on the chart above her empty bed. Thus it is not a happy place for Grandma to be stuck and I am developing a healthy dislike for that all-pervading aroma of terminal antiseptic which I call “Blood”.

They took turns to escort me around the hospital via the lifts. We found the childrens’ ward and their train set that is just like mine and Bens’ but eventually we were rumbled as intruders, technically, and we had to go. Then we visited Giant Tesco where I got a Tom & Jerry DVD and GDad bought a microwave oven: we christened it cooking my supper of Jof’s macaroni cheese and some lasagne that GMa had left for me. The cat is small but very noisy and doesn’t understand why it isn’t on your lap being fed prawns, much like a feline five year-old.

Bud made supper but then GDad felt unwell: he says it’s remarkable that he has not already poisoned himself, and the cat was the surprised yet replete beneficiary of Jof’s shepherd’s pie.

They made me read 1½ books but then I crashed out while GDad finished his third extended bout of tortuous vomiting. Nobody’s having a great time.

Face like a welder's bench

Tuesday. Spent all day at the YMCA with the JoniBobs and Ben. I stole a lego horse which Ben will take back tomorrow. Then right at the last minute Bud picked us up and took us straight to the pub where an American who looked like Elton John was doing a christmas party for the kiddies. We played musical chairs, treasure hunt, mummies, dancing games and magic tricks. He had a great inflatable santa and snowman and then there was party food.

 

Come on in, the water's lovely

Swimming day at the YMCA! Ben picked me up super-early so Jof could go to work and open up, the rest of the staff had forgotten to take the right keys due to christmas party-related forgetfulness. All of us wanted another few hours in bed.
At the YMCA we:

1. made advent calendars
2. played lego
3. went swimming
4. ate sweeties
5. made quadruple-stacked paper aeroplanes
6. that's about it

When Bud came to pick us up I was still eating a strawberry shoelace and we both had lots of floppy paper aeroplanes and so forth to pack into our numerous bags. I think we remembered everything. At home we played in the box which played the role of a garbage dump, multi-storey car park, pirate galleon etc etc. Ben finally went at 730 although I'd have kept him if it were possible. We'll meet again anyway.....
At showertime they noticed the red patches on my chest which were from the rough surface of the 'surfboard' in the pool today. And miraculously that is when they started to hurt. Just because I'd been gambolling around with Ben all day without a twinge does not mean I wasn't in agony the whole time, I just didn't realise.

Sororizing with the enemy

Today brings a confluence of 2 venerable institutions: the Puddle Christmas party and the Scumton match. The JoniBobs are hosting the party as they did last year, and special gifts have been laid on (at great expense and palaver) for us special people. There may be cutting/sticking and other arty endeavours: I might reprise my role of last year and go round the room drawing everyone's portrait. Hopefully this year I'll do ErinsMum's necklace in a less embarrassing place, it looked like she had a big willy last time.

The Scumton match is a traditional time of joy for the sister cities of Portsmouth and Southampton. Only 20 miles apart, one has always played host to the Navy, the other to the Merchant Navy. Then we broke through their picket lines in the 70's and they said those terrible things about our Sandra at the wedding or whatever it was and the animosity has never waned since. The two football teams rarely meet due to mostly being in different divisions, but on those rare occasions, the songs are louder and ruder, the hand gestures larger and more medically graphic, and any of the locals with those little brick walls around the front garden knows that the half-bricks will be knocked off the top to be used as ammunition.

Last time they visited here in April 2005 I was but a mere 8-cell blastocyst so my memories of the event are dim. However it is recorded that Pompey won 4-1, the Scummer fans were kettled outside the ground for an hour while the police tried to clear the route to the train station and many Pompey fans were lying in wait behind garden walls with half-bricks and dubious motives. Once the visiting fans had been escorted away, the home fans had an extra riot and trashed some nearby streets for no real reason.

The court cases for these domestic disturbances were long and numerous.

We delivered some beer and goodies to the JoniBobs to save having to carry it all later, and watched the policeman herding the Pompies along: they'd erected metal fences across some of the roads so they could keep the 3000 visiting fans completely separate from the Blues. Once they were all in and the match had started, we wandered out again. All was quiet on the streets as the lines of police vans waited for the end of the match, but we could hear many cheeky songs and ditties from the crowd.

Once Jof had finished putting on her makeup we walked round to the JBs where it was already in full swing.

We did some art, had food, played lego, chased each other round and round the house with aircraft carriers and argued. JoniBobsDad started to design a lockable soundproofed padded room for us but with luck it won't be ready for a while. Erin circulated, attaching stickers and post-it notes to every adult bottom she could find. Then Santa came when we weren't watching and left us all a giant stocking of goodies under the tree.  

We piled in and we all got head torches! They're very bright so we all went into the garden and hunted for Santa. We invented a method for detecting, trapping and killing him which was possibly unfair as he'd given us excellent pressies in the same stockings as last year. We looked everywhere and JoniBobsDad had to shout "Santa is not in the incinerator" at us. There was a bit of kick-boxing action with the inflatable boxing gloves which resulted in Erin getting a whack in the face and a lot of dancing until it was finally time to go home. I'd better sleep well - early start tomorrow for the YMCA.