A pillar of salt in the desert of unforgiveness



My manservants (who were put on this earth solely to serve me) have been getting above themselves again. One even threatened to spank the holy buttocks if I didn't put my pyjamas on. Papal Bull to self: I shall have to have a word, maybe call in a small lightning strike.

Speaking of narcoleptic ocelots, I do hope football is on this afternoon, we'll assess raininess before leaving (or not). Either way, Ben can come round to my house and undo all that tidying we did yesterday.

The weather changed from black rainclouds to sunny blue sky in a matter of minutes at just the right time so we went footballing. The JoniBobs were on hols so it was just us: we ran around and skidded on the damp sand as only we can. Then Ben came back to mine for a musical parade and to get all the toys out. We shot our real bullets into the flowerbeds and retrieved them using a combination of grabbers and an adult. Then BensMum drove us round to the JoniBobs house to water their plants while they're on holiday.

Gardeners Corner

Ben and I have a sporting competition as to who can grow the largest sunflowers. Mine went in ages ago so I might peak early and lose but here is the opening salvo in the sun-stakes. My tallest plant currently (none have flowered yet) is six feet ten inches (208cm). We are a little obscured in this pic but we're standing on the little flowerbed wall so level with the plants.

Later, in the shower I put an empty 100ml giant syringe to my lips and made the following safety announcement, which sounded just like a real tannoy:

"Attention, attention. We are about to go to the farm. If you want to go to the farm, please press the red button on your remote control. Thank you."