Hello? Een!

Back to the daily drudge of school again. Why does this keep happening? Can't wait until I'm an adult and every day is a holiday.
At pickup time I posed the following question to Bud and ErinsMum (because it is art week):

What artist was born 150 years ago in 1966, died in 1944 aged 76 in the big war, became a schoolteacher and painted pictures made out of shapes? His name sounds like Silican Scotsio. Any ideas??

At least I have Ben's place to look forward to tonight. I have tried out BOX #5 and have the costume ready. I've practiced lifting the lid slowly and arising from within like Count Dracula himself but I might just jump up and shout "Hello, everyone" because I can't stand the suspense.

Before we left we stuck the bats to the coffin lid (one is called Jasper the friendly bat and the others appear to have shrunken head syndrome) and also a spider. BensDad helped Bud carry my boxed corpse into the house and once he'd said the magic words, I rose from the dead to tumultuous applause. Of course, all the Piddlers immediately rushed forward and all tried to get in it at once, which is when Erin got kicked in the head and squashed.

There was much ghouling, a bit of gurning, some goolie-ing and everyone was manic. That's when Jof asked Bud to take the coffin away as it was proving too much fun. At food-time Bob sang his favourite song over and over ... 

"You're a Big Fat Knacker,

 You're a Big Fat Knacker,

 You're a Big Fat Knacker."

We played halloween bingo and we bobbed for apples. Well, technically I suppose only Bob bobbed for apples, Erin kept dunking her long lustrous hair in the apple pond and her mum had to hold it back for her. Eventually we headed out for the serious business of the day, to whit, armed robbery of all local houses for chocolate plunder. There were 7 of us so each hapless householder tried to palm us off with only 1 sweetie each. Trouble was, we raided so many dwellinghouses, the domestic comestibles soon mounted up and I practically filled my bucket as well as my boots. It was the night for it and on some of the local streets we met so many other bonbon bandidos that our thieving tribe kept getting mixed up with other candy-marauders and we had to give at least 1 zombie back to its parents.

 I reckon that I did the best because I had farthest to travel to get home, plus I had a Pops with me and nobody can resist a Pops. The 7 of us wandered up and down until the rest split off and went home, Pops and I took an hour to make it from Ben's house to ours and on the way, I believe every one of us met one or more people we knew, schoolfriends, trampoline teachers, that kid that goes to the same swimming lesson as I do etc etc. Yet another spiffing Puddle event and BensMum is a credit to the profession. Of hostess, that is.

Obtain. Procure. Acquire. Scavenge.

Felt so good this morning. As much sleep as I wanted, and it was still only 9am. Today we went to the big charity shop in North End to pick up the 2 bits of furniture we bought yesterday, and to acquire the pumpkin-on-a-batplate that I'd seen. But as is so often the way, we accidentally ended up by the tunnels and messed about for an hour. This is Peronne Road footbridge over the creek and motorway: it's great for pooh-sticks with a twist: you use the yellow-white apples from the tree you can see on the left of the picture. There were only a couple left but we threw them in from the bridge anyway. I can also report that rose hips sink and are therefore no good for pooh-hips.
Gradually we wandered back along the wooded ramparts and found a broken-down brick wall behind a car dealership and used an old car roofrack to climb down. We scurried like secret agent rats all the way along the back of the old Hilsea Milk Depot and got back to the car and picked up the furniture.

No sooner had we delivered them to Jof than we drove away again to a bathroom shop which has lots of broken pallets piled high in a corner of their car park. We procured a carload of wood for the bonfire. Once we'd processed it all (detach all planks, hammer down nails, stack neatly in my playhouse) Jof and I destroyed the old TV stand. This wood was added to the pile.

In the afternoon we cycled down to the seafront and saw the huge traffic jams leaving the site of the great south run. BethsDad did the run again but he'd gone by the time we got there. Against the stiff wind, we powered our way west to the marines museum where a digger had gouged a massive hole in the shingle beach. The sea was rough and we played wave-chase inside the fenced-off area. I liked the immense susurration as each wave receded and a million pebbles went bouncing down the slope. Then onwards (but not upwards) past more traffic jams to the pier, where I ate my customary half an ice cream and watched the fishermen catching seaweed. In fact the sea was so rough it had washed away half the beach: sand was exposed instead of the usual 30 yards of shingle. The storm surge had deposited seaweed and pebbles onto the road and the corniche pavement was bumpy in places with shingle rocks.

Cut! Chop! Slash! Burn later....

No Gymnastics today as it's half-term so Queen Jaffe Joffe had set us a task. She was quite prepared for it to last 2 days, if that's what it was going to take. First we harvested all the red tomatoes. Then we harvested all the orange and yellow ones that had a decent chance of ripening on a windowsill.

Then we chopped, slashed, stabbed and ripped our way through the tomato plants and took down the frame. I have a pair of long-handled choppers and some secateurs and I wielded them ruthlessly. This left us with an empty flowerbed which Bud shortened so that the path would get wider.

You know the way everyone gathers in the kitchen at parties? Well, in Puddleparties, everyone gathers in front of the tomato bed where the path is at its narrowest, and a fatal bottleneck develops. No longer. Plus now we've got a freshly dug bed for fireworks. While he was doing that, I sorted all the tomatoes and got rid of the stalks and swept up the debris. Colin the Compost Heap is now very full but the unique ecosystem that is Colin will digest it all as usual.

Jof desires a new TV stand and going-to-work cupboard to put all the junk on so we went to North End where there are many charity shops (bath fizzer rumpus) and we're now the proud owners of some new (old) furniture. Then I cried out in anguish and sank to my knees on the pavement - not in some kind of religious fervour but in terminal hunger. A cafe beckoned and I had fish'n'chips and Jof's hunk of black pudding she failed to eat quickly enough. She started stealing my chips like JoniBobsDad: I countered this by ketchupping them liberally which protected them from her evil grasp. It's good to be clever.

Later we decided that as there weren't going to be any more tomatoes, we might as well cook them all up in the cauldron to make the annual passata. I sorted them into green ones and usable ones and off we went. Due to strenuous and well-underlined orders from Jof we put only herbs in, no beans, no spinach, no sweetcorn etc etc. Then we did some Saturday night hoovering, as you do, to make the room ready for the new (old) furniture. Thank goodness we got some bath fizzers today.....
Bath fizzer night music by request: Cosi fan tutte and Mozart's flute quartets.

Echolocate: chocolate

I have inherited an ability to detect chocolate through walls, tins, packets, present wrappers, etc etc. Thank you, mother.

Managed to leave the house at a sensible time and hopped on a big six-wheeler scarlet painted London transport diesel engined 97-horsepower omnibus down to Canoe lake and the model village. Bud and I took Ben there last winter for the Father Christmas thing and they gave me a free child's ticket so I could come back. The model village (at Lumps Fort, Southsea seafront) was apparently voted #3 in the highly exclusive "Daily Mirror Top 10 Best Grottoes Christmas 2010" so you just know it's wonderful.

Thought I'd better use it within one calendar year otherwise it'd be silly so here we are. We climbed the castle and chased the trains and had a hot sandwich and explored everywhere. It's in need of a bit of TLC and a lot of the buildings need repair, there are lots of weeds growing up between the exhibits and they've clearly shoved in a few extras like some random teletubbies. 

Managed to get further down the soldier's firing tunnel this time and found a model of the guildhall. We also found a dead gnome which merely highlights the state of repair of the whole facility. After a good couple of circuits we headed out to the butterfly museum as they have toilets: we had a quick look at the dinosaurs (which are a species of butterfly) and awaited pickup by the lake.

Bud had said that after the 2-storey box with roof garden he created out of 2 full-sized pallets for Erin's Puddle-House-warming party he'd not do boxes again, sort of going out on a high, retiring at the top of his game.

He lies like cheap watch. OK, so this box is not a tower-block box castle. We have had that. But each new one has to be different... just you wait, Henry Higgins...
My swimming lesson was great. Because it's half term, there were only 3 of us so I got lots of extra teacher attention.

2 pints of Dunkel and a Kochwurst, please

Achtung Liebestraße! Gezeinen geblungen! Deine flammenwerfen ist kaput! Schnell shnell kartoppelkopf! The 51st annual WurstFest is about to start in New Braunfels, Texas. Oh how I'd love to take all the Puddlers and Piddlers over there for the 10 day sausage celebration, boating on Canyon Lake and riding on the miniature trains in Landa Park in silly costumes.
Attractions include:

1.   Infinite amounts of meat on a stick and more Bratwurst, Stippgrütze and Pinkel than you can shake a Helga the Viking helmet at

2.   Beerfest favourites such as Warsteiner Dunkel, Spaten Oktoberfest and Ziegenbock.

3.   Non-stop entertainment (in the big tents, kiddie tent and the all-new house on stilts) from The TubaMeisters, The 7 Dutchmen Orchestra, Edelweiss Kinder Choir, Squeezebox and Oompah Frenzy, Guest Master Yodellers and the Waltz and Polka contests. Don't forget the Chicken Dance, mmmm.

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Lego day again, really, it rained or was claggy all day apart from a brief spell of activity when I took Bud down to the deserted skate park and immediately got soaked trousers. Now 4/5 of the battalion is complete: soon my feral Police tribe will take over the country.

Today a man came to the door and insisted he could clean our gutters for so long we had to shut the door in his face.

Supper is sausages in honour of Wurstfest. I had 6 although I'm not German. Jof is better but still quite tired and enjoyed her sofa-time until she got bored of it and started cleaning the bathroom.

Dispatch war rocket Ajax

 Lego time again with my attack fleet including rocket warhead trailer, all lined up like a Soviet May day Parade.
Spent a lot of time waiting for it to stop raining. Eventually Jof and I went into town and trailed round numerous shops which wasn't a laugh for either of us. I got a full-size plastic trident in shop #1 so was able to knock things over with it and stab strangers for the duration of the trip. Marks and Spencer failed to offer us hot food just when we wanted it so as Jof's defences were down I persuaded her into buying a vast 750-piece lego set with police station, helicopter, armoured troop carrier, motorbike and tank. OK so it's Wilklego not real lego but it's mostly compatible and was only £16, once we've built the whole caboodle and destroyed it all again, all the bits'll go into my giant lego box anyway. In the end I had a McDingle's Happy Meal.
Bud returned from work and we all set about building the helicopter. After an hour it was time for some excercise so I cycled aimlessly around eastern Portsmouth on various routes from the puddles on Ben's bumpy paths to the Moneyfields allotments. This did give him the chance to deliver a copy of the newspaper with the PuddleDaddies at the beer festival to BensDad. Then I got cold and tired so retired to the sofa. Why can't he make the roads shorter when I'm tired? I have no mudguard so got a muddy back.
While we were gone Jof started work on the Guy for November the 5th. Not having much experience in making heads out of cloth (is this not a standard part of finishing school?), she made 2 and hoped to choose the best. Initially we were thinking of dressing the poor chap in a smock and calling him Gay Fawkes but now we have 2 heads I'm thinking we go with the Zaphod Beeblebrox look. The outsize T-shirt he will be formed from certainly has space for a second head, or maybe a Kuato (symbiotic mutant from Total Recall).

Digging for victory

Today we went to help install some new plants in the flowerbeds at the front of the school. We'd missed the digging-over part a couple of days ago so took spades and chicken poo and did lots of digging with Flynn and our friends.

Pretty soon we got distracted by the remote controlled cars and the empty playground so forgot our duties but other kids arrived who had not reached their boredom threshold and by and by the work was completed.

 Once we'd finished we washed strenuously and I went back to lego. I am making a fleet of interestingly-shaped boats, cunningly designed canoes, and hovercrafty helicopters. Some good news in the afternoon: Ben and the JBs were available for some park action.

Ben came to our house with some warrior figures so we tested inter-species compatibility with the lego fleet. Once the borings had finished their tea we hit the park and the JBs arrived.

Amazingly, because the adults didn't interfere, we set up our own game of football with specified goal areas, teams, directions of play and everything, and then actually did it properly for ages. Thursday football has taught us a lot. Three freaky identical triplets kept trying to invade our match so we decamped to the other end of the park and had a free-flowing game of constantly changing teams and personnel including 2 PuddleDaddies as sillygoalies. This worked quite well for quite a long time but eventually there were just too many collapses and howls and we gave up and went home. At one point I stopped a goalmouth clearance using only my willy: for a minute there I had 3 balls and this made for the loudest and longest howl-round of the game. I decided I wanted to be referee sitting on the climbing rock out of range but got stuck in again anyway.

What, me worry?

Wandered out of bed 9-ish and watched TV while laundry was done around me. I could get used to this. One thing I do not wish to get used to is the lingering aroma of grannies weeing themselves, which is still stuck up my nose from yesterday. Once I'd told Bud where Jof hides her Polos we set off for the hospital and parked on the top floor of the car park whose basement we used yesterday. Everything was much busier and there were no mobile thrones for me. Jof was much better and had even slept a little through the noise of beeping machines and flatulent and confused grannies. We embraced but at a distance as I'm still worried her arms will explode and cover me in blood. I told her I didn't like her bloody arms.

While we waited for Doctor #7 to ask her the same questions as his predecessors, we went for another wander around the buildings. It's not like 10pm yesterday when we practically had the whole place to ourselves, we actually had to wait for the lifts and millions of people in wheelchairs beetled up and down looking sad. We found the corridor to the mortuary again but instead of seeing dead people (I have developed a healthy obsession with deceased persons and know all about how they go mouldy and smelly and gloopy if you don't get them into a freezer quickly enough) we went to the top floor and looked at the helicopter landing pad. We weren't allowed any further.

Jof was still waiting for Doctor #7 so we went shopping so we could have some food (predominantly chocolate) for when Jof gets back later today. We are looking forward to this very much. We have found out it was just one of those things, not some big problem that could come back.
Then finally Jof said she was being discharged so we drove back to the hospital (found a mobile throne this time) and found her in the waiting room. We sat with her for an hour or so while Doctor #8 signed off the paperwork, took some time out to visit the dead people - here's me pretending to be a dead person. Last night the corridors were dead quiet, but today there was stiff resistance, I was mortified! You can see the undead human through the door window about to knock me over. Anyway we investigated some more in the pathology section: I opened a store room door and guess who was inside looking at me? A real live skelington!! Well, dead, but you know what I mean. I guess a skelington is a bunch of bones with the person scraped off. On our way out some of the orderlies said 'Ello mate and waved and laughed at me. I don't see why these people remember me, I'm not exactly memorable, am I?
We finally repatriated Jof at a little after 5pm and she spent ages talking to her mum. A decent homecooked meal and she was right as rain, which promptly started outside.

Nom de cyber: Mungleton. Location: A&E

Morning; gardening in preparation for the bonfire. Jof did not feel so good so went to the drop-in centre where she waited for hours, as you do. While we were waiting I slipped my little thin arms through the grating of the wishing well and my wish for a small handful of rusty coppers came true! Bud said it wasn't cool. The nice nurses booked Jof a free ride in a woo-woo and so she waited over 2 hours for that to arrive even though we offered to take her.

A mere 4 hours in A+E allowed them to test her in many ways, X-rays, needles to take her blood and a cool beeping machine that showed off her heart by making excellent shark's teeth on the screen. We went to the hospital shop to buy chocs and magazines and explored the many massive deserted corridors and lifts. This corridor on the right is enormous, he wants to play golf in it or go on a scooter but I don't think he'll be allowed. We'd missed the gardening at my school and the last day of trains but I wanted to stay with Jof.

Finally she was taken away from the first room with the screaming baby, the woman who had had too many lagers and the woman with the black eyes and the policeman in attendance. The new yellow room had the more traditional nutter old lady [this one keeps trying to leave the room as she is expecting an important telephone call from Canada] but at least it was quieter. I did not want to cuddle her goodbye in case blood came out of her needle holes. We went home for food and to get her overnight bag as the hospital doctors wanted to keep her! Cheek, who's going to give me chocolate now?
After supper we delivered her kit to her in her new room, by then she was getting very bored so we exchanged little sentences on a pad with each declaration of undying love followed by a triangle of kisses. We found an abandoned Renal Unit wheelchair by the carpark and I commanded that it be delivered back to the reception area: I sat upon it and waved regally to the dressing-gowned patients having a crafty smoke: my very own mobile throne aha. We all had a little walk to get her some fresh air and then the third doctor came along and asked her all the same questions the first 2 had. Bud and I strolled around the building investigating crevices and found the corridor that goes over the road: that is where we found the mortuary which is freezers full of dead people. We didn't see them.
Eventually we had to go home so I could go to bed (10pm) and Jof looked sad as she prepared for a night amongst snoring crones and all their beeping machines. She had got up there too late for supper, lucky we'd brought chocolate.

A time of high adventure

Woke at 0900 with a song on my lips and a bladder like the Hindenburg. This is because I know that milk is good for you and so last night I tried to singlehandedly drink the 4-pinter in the fridge, making Bud have to visit Tesco in his slippers to get more. This morning a hooded top was deemed too small and went into the charity shop pile: it's labelled 2-3 years so maybe at last I'm growing. The trousers I have on right now are labelled 3-4 years so don't get your hopes up.

Job #1: go into the loft to take up all the summer toys and sand excavation toys etc. Bring down all the halloween stuff and check everything still works. Bring down cactus repotting equipment to repot the Peyotes. They are all squashed together and need bigger pots.

Job #2: gymnastics. I got gymnast of the week for the second week running, just goes to show.

Job #3: bottlebank tour. Met ex-Puddler Emma on the way to ballet lessons. Got the old favourite "6 blue eggs" bath fizzer pack from the charity shop and also a 20p bulldozer which I sang to all the way home. Popped in to see the gargling granny whose life I saved last week to make sure she was OK. She was very deaf and didn't remember me. She didn't remember last week.  

She had such a frail (if pungent) grasp on reality that we figured no solicitor is ever going to countersign the "I am of sound mind" part of any updated will we might write for her so we left her to it.



Better now, less crowded

Walked home via the football ground where we picked up a couple more cable drums for my collection.

They will be burnt on November 5th.

There are also a couple of toilets complete with wooden seats, might return later to remove them. You can never have too many toilet seats at a bonfire party.

After lunch we repotted the peyotes and I got to play with the leftover sand in the growbag tray using my new bulldozer. This is the third year running (see last year here) I've repotted them, my little fingers are just right for manipulating these sacred cacti, great training for my future role as Shaman to the world. During supper (which I helped to cook) we watched Jof's program: Strictly Let's Go Dancing Frenzy in which blokes lift up blonde bimbettes with big baps and twingly spangly costumes. I love it and will be a judge one day, handing out 10s to allcomers. Jof has trouble in that she totally fancies Robbie Savage and yet at the same time hates him. Bud practically inhaled his food in order to escape.

Fun and games at the Stercus Maximus

Ben came round to pick me up and we convoyed to Pirate Pete's with Erin and Jack. In there we partied hard, particularly with the new bricks with nobs on and finally retired to the Wimpy for sustenance when our session expired. I pigged and pigged (let's hope I remain tapeworm-free) and even helped others finish their food (of undoubted quality). After ten minutes on the machines with flashing lights downstairs we played in the swingpark over the road (new climbing frame to investigate and the front half of a pirate ship to boot) until it was hometime. Ben came back to mine so the adults could have tea.

Due to an inefficiency-related hopelessness disorder, Jof failed to take the camera so no record of this day exists. 

Thus you'll just have to take my word for it that we all had a great time. Met the wives as we left for my regular swimming lesson: they were going to Rainbows. Jof sat with me through my lesson and I worked hard and did what I was told. At one point this included swimming along blowing a rubber fried egg along in front of me, extra points gained if you could turn it over. Of course, all the time I was getting breathing training and swimming encouragement but I didn't know that, I just thought it was great fun.

At home I made the promised pepperoni pizza. Instructions: arrange all the pepperoni slices you have in the world into a disc and attach a small pizza underneath.
Bedtime eventually after much fun and games including Greek wrestling at showertime, toppling-attack at towel-time after the shower and laughing each other into fits of hiccups, all of which ought to be olympic events. Musical accompaniment to the gladiatorial combat: Basil Poledouris's "Anvil of Crom" (Theme to Conan The Barbarian) and some old pants that Jof found on YouTube.

The End Of Days (again)

Half term is with us once more in a blaze of cardboard cutouts, brain fizzers and overwrought mothers.
It was early doors at Otters class when we displayed our Funfair construction efforts to the assembled parents, who stood agape at our creative triumph.

I was part of the Big Dipper team and we'd made a silvery track of various heights and a truck to run thereupon. I also had been part of the Ice Cream Stall team and made a pink cone with flake for Bud and gave him change for a banknote he didn't have. Outside was a cake stall with many fine offerings and even some still in their original shop packaging. Our spidercake was there but complete, you had to buy the whole thing for £3 instead of a quarter for 50p or similar which we would have liked to do. So in the end he bought a few random cupcakes and I got 60p to choose mine which was 2 cupcakes and a skeleton straw. At school today Zak told me that his Dad had a new girlfriend but that was OK because his Mum had a new boyfriend. None of this is unusual to me as I have seen it all. I myself have 2 girlfriends currently and Ben has a boyfriend and a girlfriend.

While I was in the queue, LittleMax demanded I come back to his place for tea which was ideal. It's lucky I have inherited my short-term memory from Bud otherwise I'd remember a few days ago when I took him to swingpark and he dropped all the things he was supposed to carry and I howled and I hate him I hate him I hate him. More to the point, it's lucky I've inherited Bud's short-term memory or ..... did I just say that? Anyway, due to some memory issues we had a great time and I ate all my supper (including the baked beans I don't like) but I did not have a drink because LittleMax put a baked bean in it.
Tomorrow is an insect day (the random teacher-training extra-holiday, not flying ant swarm-day) so I shall have a surprise trip to Pirate Pete's with Ben and Erin and Jack W.

Shining like diamonds in the black

Today I finally got my School Council badge and spent the whole day playing with it in a destructive test to see how long it'll last. Then we got a big book of all the jobs we will be required to do in an official capacity and sent them to Santa Claus, for he will allocate the jobs. Bud has told me the truth about Mr S. Claus but I went along with it anyway.

The most exciting thing to happen to me today was when I had to move drawers so all my stuff will be in a slightly different place.

 Bit cold but certainly bright enough for Wednesday park. He ditched me at the gate and went to Beth's house to give the wallpaper stripper back. I elected to take 2 swords so at least I was a heavily armed abandoned man.

Ben and the JBs played wargames with me, we split up into teams and occupied 2 climbing frames and made exploratory attacks on each others' bases. Given the weapons involved it's surprising there weren't more howls and lost fingers or eyes and we also feasted under the climbing frame like hyaenas, cackling and scratching ourselves behind the ears.

On the way home I demanded to be carried (cavalry are mounted) but soon forgot. Jof and I finished the cake (another spidery masterpiece) ready for the morning; I would have emptied the entire sprinkles collection onto it had I not been stopped.

Postcards from the Padded Room

Another day over at school, we hopped into the car for a drive-by dumping at the charity shop opposite Jof's work. In exchange for 5 bags of obsolete material we were given (as arranged by Jof) a large bag of unsaleable clothes which all the Piddlers shall use to make a Guy. This will keep us busy for a while during the firework party and I feel sure one of the sensible adults (AKA Oxymoron) will secrete one or more French bangers within the Guy.

Once we'd returned, Principal Squeeze "Pops" arrived to do some iumping on my bed, as before, while Bud replaced the toilet seat, instantly road tested by a little visitor. This left us with one old wooden toilet seat's clear profit on the beginning of the day, and I do believe Mr Guy Fawkes will at last sit upon the throne before the fire is lit beneath his deserving bottom. The freaky boy scouts will play supporting roles.
After supper we started to make the cakes that must be ready for the Thursday morning school run: the allegedly light and fluffy sponge components are more like those American breakfast pancakes and I got to use the whisk again so I whiskered chocolate all over Jof's shirt like last time.

White man speak with forked tongue

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Well done, people of Earth. It is a great honour for you to read my esteemed epistle.

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Today a man visited our school and did a song and dance on stage wearing a suit made out of kitchen utensils. He had a saucepan on his willy and a colander on his head and he kept pretending he couldn't hear us properly because he was clanging the colander with a big wooden spoon. I do not know why these strange things keep happening to me, and it's most unfair 'cos I get enough of it at home.
Ran home from school due to rain and went shopping. Retail outlet #1 was Big B+Q where we bought a toilet seat, as you do.

Sales emporium #2 was LIDL, source of the highest quality continental chocolates and obscure alcohol at low low prices. Who needs to be able to read the product name and ingredients with deals like these. Anyway we availed ourselves of some marzipan (maybe) things, an assortment of items (probably chocolate) and a Chocolate Santa (probably), and some of the cheap booze before heading off to the important section. They have several different packets of fireworks but to be honest you might as well go for the 3-pack detonation combo with cube'O'30 shots, rabid rocket selection and "Can't decide? Have our mixed box!" random bucket of unexpectedness for only 20 of your Earth pounds. This we combined with some sparklers and indoor fireworks and other leftovers to create the "Gunpowder Gangsta" display seen here. You should have heard my evil cackling laugh. Incidentally, the Indoor Firework set next to me is an unopened Tom Smith original pack (1970s) that Mr Tall from Bud's work found in his loft. It's probably a collector's item. Yes, that's the pinata as well.

This is only the beginning. We need much more. Venture forth, dear Puddlers, and scour the Pyromania shops of the world to bring me ignitable tribute of all nations or there will be a wailing and gnashing of teeth like last year when Ben missed the giant rocket.
After supper Bud re-commissioned the central heating system while Jof and I posted bits of wood down the gap between the floorboards and the wall in the vain hope that we could get some of them to wedge, so there'd be a toehold for some new plaster to fill the gap. We hammered and posted and shoved bits of many sizes but they all were lost forever in the void below the floor. We'll get some wire mesh tomorrow.

A teenager once more

They finally woke me up at 1045 (a touch under 12 hours asleep) so that we'd have some chance of doing things today. I have many ideas including the beach and Tunnel park to have one last go on the trains before they pack up for the winter. I hope we haven't missed their last run of the season.

I took Jof to Sainsbury's so that we'd buy the right stuff this time; thus it was £40 more than usual.

Once we'd had lunch I hopped on my bike and cycled to Tunnel park with him running alongside and Jof following on behind on Shank's pony. When we got there we saw the trains were running apart from a red one that had broken down and was getting early retirement. It sat on the sidings hissing sadly to itself but we didn't care as we got on an electric one. The control panel was so simple and devoid of NASA-style complexity I bet I could have driven it. Once we'd finished our circuits I went into the climbing park proper while he retraced our footsteps using a trail of rice we had left earlier to find Jof, who appeared to have got lost on the half-mile journey. She was sitting on a garden wall on the main road with an old dear. This extremely elderly and highly confused barking biddy had locked herself out of her house: a neighbour confirmed that although the old bat was battier than a cricket conference in a belfry, she did indeed live at the house and may well have done so since the 17th century. Bud knew exactly what to do and ran back to collect me.

Police Rescue!!

The Father/son Avenging Rescue Team arrived in a puff of magic purple smoke, at about the same time as the nice policeman that Jof had phoned earlier. The copper tried the door but without breaking it or calling out an expensive locksmith it wasn't going to happen. This was our chance. We shared our plan with the Grateful Gumshoe. Having got the official nod from the Old Bill to perform some B&E like in the good old days we nipped round the corner and climbed up the 8 foot wall, over the flat roof at the back of the bank and we dropped silently and stealthily into her garden, crushing forever a fossilized poppy, a deceased hydrangea and the hopes and dreams of many large spiders whose webs stretched across the path at face height. We surveyed (with our professional rescuing eyes) the back of the house with its high, closed windows with no approaching handholds. With eyes bright we eyed up the skylight. Then we marched directly in through the back door which the Gargling Granny had left unlocked. There was a distinct aroma of wee and one of those special toilets that is also a piece of furniture. The Dazzled Rozzer and the Frazzled Crone were highly surprised that we had breached the domestic defences in so few minutes and we left them to make tea for each other and for the Fuzz to file reports to be assessed by the social, no doubt. Flags unfurled, we returned victorious to the field of trains. I did not get a Rescue Team badge but I deserved one.

 Jof and I went on the green train. It broke down at Bermuda Corner and all the flat-capped train geeks rushed over to offer their jibes and condolences to the hapless driver. It broke down again at the other end behind the bushes, and for this added insult, we were offered a free ride on the yellow train to make up for it, which was silly as it was a much more interesting circuit. Ben arrived so took Jof's place for the freebie. The yellow train powered its lemony way to the far end of the track where it, too, broke down. Cue a convergence of enraged train geeks with flat caps of all colours (as long as it's beige). In the end we limped home being shunted by the boring yet reliable electric train behind us. Best day on the trains I've ever had. Next week is the last week of trains as they go into hibernation so make sure you don't miss it.

Kingdom of the thunder dragon

Warbled myself to awakeness at 0930. Breakfast was frosties but I allowed myself a sausage roll on the way to gym. If we had waited for the bus we'd have been late, lucky we walked. I got a special well done sticker from the tutor for my great straddle jumps.

BensMum picked me up directly from gym even though she felt as rough as bottoms, apparently, due to a cold, sounds like she's using the wrong toilet paper. But she took us to Ben's bumpy paths where we played Hot Diggedy Dog (with the JBs, Erin and Dillandog) and Dinosaur ToothBone Discovery with our magic scanners. I also distributed the remaining chalk nodules from Goring beach to my bestest friends, so they can write their names on their gateposts or front walls.

Meanwhile the PuddleDaddies were out on their annual pilgrimage to the Portsea Beer Festival for Consumption of Liquids Of All Nations. Ben realised something was amiss and he asked "Are you going to a secret beer'O'clock?"

The brass band played many well-known hits including Bryan Adams (All I do I do for you) and Eternal Flame by the Bangles but they could not do Bud's special request "Sea shanties" or the Dambusters as they didn't have the sheet music. The downstairs toilet was wallpapered with sheet music so a phonetic joke/play on words was made about sheet and music.  During this BensMum phoned in to complain that the stereo was not working: the suggestion to turn up the volume knob worked wonders and she did not trouble them again.

He was back in time to do bath fizzer night and I finally drifted off at 11.

Not much of a secret beer'o'clock if the PuddleDaddies get in the local paper, is it?

 

At one point ErinsDad said "Dave and I are girls" but really he was talking about the children they represent. Thus I have labelled our pet adults and note that although the headline says make mine a pint, they were only issued with half-pint glasses.